#she even adjusted my belt for me to be more in-character? she's seen enough about Blorbo From My Show to know he's got a fucked up belt???

[candywife333]

There is Never A Right Time

Summary:

Jungkook hadn’t thought about the woman he had left for a long time. He had gotten secretly married to her, his judgement clouded under the influence of alcohol,  and all it took was a shadow of distrust to make him abandon her. If the world questioned the sanctity of her character, then the world had to be right. Right? He hoped he was right at least. Because if he wasn’t , he had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life. As he continued to work as a top idol, artist, and entrepreneur time went by. He had other women but they never lasted long in his life. When he attended an award show with the rest of the members, he saw a girl there. Another artist. Definitely someone he knew he had never seen or heard of before. Who was she? Something about her was familiar. Maybe her eyes. And then it struck him, making him go as cold as a corpse. He had seen those same eyes somewhere else alright, in the mirror when he looked at his own reflection every morning.

DISCLAIMER: The character written in this fan fiction does not represent the real Jungkook’s personality or behavior. All of this is fiction. 

WARNING: Fic mentions noncon/rape (does not describe it explicitly in this part), please don’t read if this is a trigger. 

This series is slated to be a trilogy. Here is PART ONE, hope you guys enjoy. Also, I will be creating a permanent tag-list for all my chubby reader fics, please let me know in comments whoever would like to be a part of that. 

  PART 1

The lady stood in front of him and the other members. She exuded a powerful aura, regal and dignified. These qualities were rather an unusual combination for idols, especially Korean idols so he was a little starstruck. Something that was rather unusual for any member of BTS to feel. She couldn't have been more than 18 years old though based on her appearance. The girl must be mixed race because she had very unconventional features for an idol. She had dark thick curly black hair that trailed to her hips and her skin reminded him of strongly brewed milk tea. The even more startling features were her plush lips, a prominent straight nose graced by a diamond stud, and double lidded eyes fringed with what seemed to be thick eyelashes.

She was sporting an unusual outfit as well; a customized skirt and bra set that he only saw gypsies and belly dancers wear. A gold belt adorned her waist sitting lower on her hips with a diamond belly piercing highlighting her lithe , toned figure. He couldn't stop looking at her because strangely enough something about her was familiar.

He made eye contact with her accidentally and what he saw made his heart palpate against his chest. He had seen those same eyes every day of his life in his mirror. Her doe eyes were too similar to his own. They say that eyes are a mirror to the soul, but her eyes were a mirror to his own.

Who was she? He felt a stir of panic as their eyes met and she bowed down low. She was of average height, but her presence seemed to envelope the room since other well known artists,  idols, and staff greeted her politely. The stage director came near her bowing. To Jungkook’s surprise , she spoke in fluent Korean though she seemed to be a foreign artist.

The stage director and the girl were a few feet away from BTS when the stage director exclaimed , “How is your mother doing Cha-ya? She must be worried since you have only promoted up til now in the US, Thailand, and India. Are you having a comfortable time adjusting over here?”

The girl’s eyes lit up in glee as she responded with a little chuckle, “It has for sure been a different experience than the U.S. and India for sure. The stage is so organized and everything is so close by for promotions. I am enjoying it to the max. Mom told me to eat well and sleep 8 hours a day. You know how doctors are like. She’s constantly checking in on me to see if I am stressed out. Saiyan and Arang are also being such worrywarts since this is the first time I’ve been here.”

The stage director continued in mild surprise, “Are they your brothers? I thought you were an only child ?”

She guffawed in a cacophonous fashion which made several idols and artists look her way, in awe and confusion. Jungkook thought that she was a rather different type of artist. Very uninhibited by social norms. Clearly she had not been brought up in Korea.

“Director, we are actually triplets but both of them were born a few minutes ahead of me so they insist that they are my older brothers. We are very tight knit and they will be coming to visit soon. Saiyan is a pretty popular model right now and so he will be finishing his Engineering degree at Washington State and rush over here for Seoul fashion week. Arang on the other hand finished his MBA/Medicine dual degree, so he will be managing a chain of Health and Wellness Resorts over here. “

The director’s jaw slid open in an exclamation. He sputtered in disbelief, “ How are all of your siblings so well studied and managing jobs like that? You must be the only sibling purely in entertainment.” The girl deliberated for a second before responding, “Mom made sure we all had solid educations before pursuing these types of careers. She is always skeptical of fame, and she brought us up to be extremely disciplined, stable, and loyal individuals. I am actually finished with my course in Law (focus in international law) ,but currently all that is stalled for the time being because of my activities in entertainment.”

As Jungkook was hearing this conversation along with the other artists in the room who were curiously eavesdropping as well, the Director continued in awe, “Your mother seems to be an extremely strong lady. I knew she was a doctor  who seemed extremely rich and well off, but she must literally be a goddess to give birth to such high achieving kids. What about your father, what does he do?”

Cha-ya scoffed with a quizzical, somewhat bitter look, “He actually left her before we were even born. We found out who he was when we all finished college. Our mother made sure our upbringing was never lacking. We saw him a lot on the Korean and world news growing up but never knew that he was our dad. You know,  he is someone whose popularity never fades strangely enough. He sold his soul for fame, so it is to be expected perhaps.” The director looked so intrigued and invested as he prodded for more info, “ Who is he? Definitely we would know who he is? Is he a singer, actor, businessman in the industry over here?”

Cha-ya’s entire expression became rigid and mask-like as she replied in what seemed to be a disinterested tone, “ We do not consider him our dad, so neither my brothers, nor I would like to claim him. He was a sperm donor. That is the long and short of it. Who he is, is as irrelevant as what today’s weather forecast is. He betrayed my mother and trusted the world over her. She went through so much pain just to be by his side. And when she thought the pain would end, he left her. I have to be on stage, so if you will excuse me now Sir.”

She side stepped the director and went closer to the entrance of the main stage. Jungkook could feel the bile and vomit rising to his mouth. She had been pregnant when he had left her? He had three kids, that he never knew anything about? This grown beautiful artist was his daughter?And he had two more accomplished sons?  His parents had grandkids? And how the hell did she brith triplets?!! Wouldn’t her vagina tear ??????!!!

His world was crashing down on him as the rest of BTS stared at him with stark grief painted across their faces. They all remembered her name, it was unforgettable.

Before he could process anything, he heard the booming noise starting up on the stage. Wait, wait up a minute! This track was the most popular pop/ rock release of the year all over the US. He saw his daughter he never knew he had on stage in an elaborate headdress dancing with precision and fluidity on stage. She had no backing track, the other idols could tell. This was live. Only one artist sang with no backing track in all her performances this year in the US. She was on MTV and all other award shows, becoming sensational, l hitting all headlines for singing with no backing track usually acapella . Shadow, that was her romanized name, but in all Asian countries she went by Nee-Da.

She had risen to the top for the past 3 years for her herculanean work ethic , creative marketing/business acumen. She was known for her cutthroat ruthlessness in the music industry, mostly aided by the fact that her mother was known to own and manage the world’s most innovative new security system, Poison. He did not know what to be more shocked about at this point? How could he not have recognized her? Seeing her in real life was different from seeing her on stage with all the makeup and ornamentation on.

She was the pop-star of the era, a business mogul with a net worth of close to 300 million dollars at such a young age due to her clothing and makeup line. She was his daughter. How could this even be possible? Jungkook could feel his identity crisis coming. How did he birth the most iconic popstar of this generation, who as of now hated his guts? What scared him even more was the realization of who her mother was.

The lady he had left, the woman he could never forget even in his dreams was her mother. And her mother owned the world’s scariest personal security company, Poison. The company had revolutionized personal security by founding a bracelet and many other gadgets that created magnetic repellant force fields around individuals. It was notorious for being marketed only towards woman and could only be activated when the device recognized the XX chromosome, so the device would never protect men.

Basically, women all around the world who had these devices now had a programmable magnetic forcefield around them which shielded them from the outside world. Firearms, Tasers, and aggressors were all repelled by this technology. Women could safely walk out in the middle of the night as long as they had a device, which was continuously made affordable at its very inception by the reclusive owner of the company.

With this  technology ,the owner instantly became the most powerful business woman, icon, feminist, that the world knew. That is in fact all the world knew. That she was a woman. But nobody knew anything else about her, she was an elusive person who didn't show up to most media events. Her personal motto was that the products advocated for themselves. Her financial officers and other company higher ups showed up in the media, but she never did. Most people in the world didn't even know how this woman looked like, because of how reclusive she was.

All people knew was that she was Cha-ya’s mother and that she had two other kids.

What Jungkook got to know that made him almost go into a stroke was the sheer fact that Cha-ya’s mom was his Y/N. The one whose heart he had broken years ago.

Y/N was a billionaire of gargantuan proportions, a net worth that made his look like chump change.  His daughter was the iconic popstar of the century, someone whose craze and popularity surpassed his own in his heyday. Which meant that his son Saiyan was the new model who had just walk in Paris Fashion Week as the face of Armani. The same one that Jimin’s daughter had raved about the other day. Which meant that his son Arang became the CEO of the exclusive wellness resort, Ellysium , a resort only catered to the richest of the richest. All this calculations overwhelmed Jungkook to the point that there was only one reasonable outcome. He fainted.

He woke up to the sound of his members whispering in anxious voices to one another. “Do you think he can handle this right now?” Jin asked Namjoon. “I have no clue bro, I mean he hasn't seen her in years and the last time he saw her, he treated her so badly that even I felt ridiculously hurt for her” Namjoon sighed in a rather morose tone of voice. Hoseok scoffed as he seethed,  “Do you think she will even acknowledge him after all he had done to her? Jungkook left her to face a whole media circus alone while he impregnated her when he was inebriated, mind you. Then, to top it all of with a cherry he not only remembered nothing of the process, but she found him shagging a whole different girl the next day. Do you think that you would forgive actions as heinous as those”?

Jungkook felt dizzy as he struggled to sit up on the sofa. Jimin rushed to him with a frown on his face and worry painting his eyes, “You doing okay Kookie? Are you alright staying here for the rest of the award show, or do you want to head back home?” Still dazed from his fall, Jungkook responded pensively, “No it’s alright. I just need to catch my bearings and I can be there for the rest of the show”. Before the rest of the members could stop him Yoongi spit out bitterly, “You say you are okay attending the show. But are you sure you really want to? Cha-ya’s mother will be in attendance, flying out to see her babygirl win an award. You sure you can handle that Jungkook”?

Jungkook felt his heart racing, panic overtaking his mind. How could he face her? He had wronged her in so many ways? How could he show his miserable face to her after the way he had ruined her life? Y/n was never even his girlfriend or fiancé at the time. But, he had compromised her in the worst way possible and then had not even remembered his mistake the day after. She had paid for his mistakes by bearing children and caring for them when he had not even known they existed. Even if he had known , it was questionable whether he could've done anything signifiant. He had been embroiled in multiple scandals and caught in alcohol addiction during that phase of his life. He was living wild and no way would he have been a sober, or healthy father to his kids.

With the help of a few assistants , the group slowly trudged towards the celebrity seating quadrant of the award show venue. Cha-ya was up on the stage receiving the award for Most Streamed Artist from the hands of a veteran Korean actress. As Jungkook watched his daughter---as strange as it felt to say those words, receive the award with a blinding smile on her face, he felt his chest hurt. What type of crime had he committed in his previous life that he didn't even get to see his girl grow up? She was beautiful, sharing so many of his features, his bulbous nose, doe-like eyes, and rounded face.

She resembled him more than she resembled her mother. And before anyone could even expect it Cha-ya spoke into the microphone, “I thank everyone at VEX entertainment for helping me get to where I am today. I would also like to thank my staff and all the people behind the scenes who have pushed me to this position. I hope to make all of you proud. None of this would be possible without all of you”. She took in a deep breath as she announced, “But, most importantly I have to thank my mother. She brought me up to be the strong woman that I am today. She worked so hard to give us everything and never left us lacking. We never felt the absence of a father because she is both to me and to my brothers. I would like to call her up on stage, so I can dedicate this award to her. Please mom, come up on stage”.

Everything was moving too fast around Jungkook as he breathed in shallow pants. He felt like he was breathing too fast and his brain was not functioning. He felt paralyzed. Stuck. But he couldn't even catch his breath when he saw the mother of his children sweep into the area where he and the members sat. He could barely recognize the bold woman he was looking at. She looked lethal, powerful, untouchable ---the direct opposite of what she had been, a warm approachable girl.

She was draped in a blood red shimmering sari crafted with gold thread, an ensemble exposing a massive fire breathing dragon tattoo overarching the entirety of what seemed to be her left hip barely reaching to her belly button . The dress was close to backless with just a red resolute thread holding the top sleeveless jacket in place. You could tell she worked out, but she had all the feminine curves befitting a woman, a rounded stomach hidden by the shadow of the sari covering her modestly. Her face was covered with black sunglasses and she adorned her wrists with plain gold bangles, her neck laced with a simple gold chain.

She walked onto the steps leading to the stage in blood red heels as the entire celebrity section of the audience got a view of her back and tattoo. The lady was arresting to look at--all the way down from her aura to her body to her attire.

Y/N walked up to her daughter with arms opened, hugging the girl on stage with all the warmth that you would expect a mother to have for her child. A smile as radiant as a sunrise obliterated Y/N’s face as she spoke into the mike, “I am so proud to be here today to see my baby girl receive this award. She has worked so hard and all her efforts have come to fruition today. Thank you for allowing me to be on stage to celebrate this award with her”.

Both mother and daughter walked off the stage hand in hand as one of the MC’s for the award show started to walk up the stage. Collective gasps rang through the aisles as people saw who the next MC was. It was Saiyan. He had donned a simple Black Armani suit which highlighted just how devastating he looked. He took after Y/N more as he had slightly more defined cheekbones and huge eyes fringed with thick dark lashes to make any woman envious. He hulked onto stage, towering over his mom and sister at a height of 6′3. He laughed and hugged both of them, kissing his mom on the forehead,  and strolled to the mike to present the next award.

Jungkook’s eyes felt like they were about to pop out his head and his head was about to fall off his body. All three of them were on stage looking like such a happy family, radiant and warm. He could tell how much love his kids had for their mother . Y/N kissed Saiyan back on his cheek and walked off stage with Cha-ya in hand, giggling with her. These were all the people who he should've had in his life for years, held closest to his heart, but his poorly made decisions or lack thereof had distanced him from his own flesh and blood. 

Blinded by agitation and grief, Jungkook rushed out of the aisles, surprising his members as he absconded backstage to catch hold of Y/N and Cha-ya. But they weren’t alone. Cha-ya and Y/N were inundated by so many stage staff and artists who wanted to welcome them. His gut clenched as he saw all the men eyeing Y/N like she was the tastiest meal they had seen in centuries. He heard Y/N respond graciously to one staff member, “Oh, thank you for loving my outfit. It was designed by an upcoming Thai/Indian designer. She really went over the top with the gold motifs.” 

Jungkook couldn't stop himself as he pushed people, shoving past them trying to get to Y/N and his daughter. Staff around him were startled as they saw him wading through the crowd to the center of the room, whispering in shock at his pushy nature. As soon as he got in front of them, he was finally able to process the magnitude of Y/N’s beauty. Y/N was shocked for a mere a second at his sudden appearance and to his great surprise, kissed Cha ya on the cheek walking away from him as she told her, “Baby, mommy will be in your changing room. I have to take care of something”. Cha ya nodded at her mother, her eyes glazing over with a coat of suspicion and bitterness. She bowed stiffly towards Jungkook , “Sunbae, nice to meet you. It is an honor to meet you”. Her eyes took up a hard glint as she saw the rest of BTS filter into the room. She faced them and bowed to all of them, speaking in a lackadaisical tone “It is an honor to meet all of you. I have grown up watching all of you”. Her face did not show interest in engaging with them and she looked at them with a rather disinterested attitude. 

“Well I should get going. My mother is waiting for me”, she said as she glided seamlessly out of the room towards her dressing room. 

Jungkook felt tears well up in his eyes and anxiety stain his mind as he could see how cold his daughter was being towards him, as though he were a stranger. She had greeted him as though he was just any person on the street, as though they didn't share blood. As though he meant nothing to her. Jimin and Namjoon closed in around him, steering him towards a secluded corner of the room as he started sobbing miserably as though he were not able to breath. His eyes were red, tears flowing down his eyes, wetting his cheeks as he understood the gravity of what sin he had truly committed. 

He wiped frantically at his eyes, pushing away from his members as he ran towards Chaya’s changing room. He heard Yoongi scream beyond him, “Jungkook you better get back here! Don’t do this Jungkook, You need to calm down!!” Jungkook could not be reasoned with as he darted towards the room that a surprised staff had pointed at. He arrived in front of the door, barely catching his breath as he knocked in a hurried manner, desperate to speak with the most important people in his life that he had alienated. 

Chaya opened the door in a pink satin robe, leaning against the door with a sigh, “I knew you wouldn't be patient. I told mom it was a bad idea for her to fly out. She did anyway knowing that she would have to contend with you.” She sneered as she bit out in a crisp manner, “Well, why don’t you come in Jungkook -sshi? Or will you stay outside and make a circus of our reputation? Funny how you are obsessed with keeping yours, but have no problem blemishing others. You couldn't stay away, could you? You managed to for so many years, but now you fail at what you claim to be best at. Not caring. How juvenile”. She snarked all this at him vindictively as she simultaneously opened the door, gesturing for him to come into the room. 

The rest of the members stood outside as she sardonically queried, “Well, would you all grant us some privacy? I am sure we will have Jungkook-ssi out of the room soon enough. It shouldn't be a very long conservation. There isn't much to say anyway.” Yoongi’s eye twitched as he glared in silence at the rude girl who was literally the unexpected niece of all of the members. 

She closed the door on their faces.

Inside the room, Y/N sat on the couch surveying Jungkook’s appearance with mild interest. “Why are you here Jungkook? Do you need to say something?”, she calmly asked.  Y/N’s mind whirled in turmoil even as she looked calm on the outside. Why was he in front of them all these years when he himself had shunned her at her weakest moment? Jungkook was hyperventilating as he asked in a cracked voice, “I am not going to ask you the Stu-pid question of whether these kids are mine or not. Because I know that they are all the same age and I can see it in their faces and their mannerisms. They are mine”. He took a deep breath as he felt the panic overtake him, “But why did you never tell me about them? Why did you take me away from their lives. You know how much my mother and father wanted grandkids. Out of everybody in the world, you knew it the best. Why did you deprive me and my parents of them?” 

In an infuriatingly placating tone, Y/N responded without a hitch in her voice, “Don’t you remember? You didn’t want anything to do with me because I had apparently betrayed our friendship by being a characterless bitch and luring you into fucking me when you were drunk. Can you not make a quick trip down memory lane? Or has it been too long for you to remember the lurid media details that tore me apart? You may have forgotten but I never will”. 

She took a sip of tea as she tapped her nails on her lap, “You wouldn't hear me out when I told you that we had both accidentally gotten married when were drunk. Even though I knew that you never wanted anything to do with me romantically, you still initiated intercourse even as I clearly told you no. I begged you to let go of me. But in your blind livid anger of finding the marriage certificate lying on the couch later that night, you didn't do what most men do. You didn't do the practical thing, which is to rage and get over it. You didn’t tear the certificate and put an end to it there. You decided that I deserved to pay, and you fucked me even as I begged you to not ruin me. But, then again,  why are you asking me all the gruesome details, when you were the perpetrator?”

As Jungkook clutched his head, bending it down in dismay and shame, she quietly drawled, “We could've simply dissolved the marriage. It was not done seriously. It was done in a compulsion, as both of us were under the influence. Influence that you forced down my throat if we are being truly accurate. But, why did you have to ruin my life even when you were in a sober state? What excuse do you have for that? Other than your ridiculously misplaced anger? So you forced me when you were sober, making me pay in the most pitiful manner.”

 She laughed bitterly, eyes bereft of emotion, retreating behind a mask of forced complacency , “You knew, out of everyone else, since you were my friend at the time, that I had never even done it before. But you still treated me more pathetically than a piece of trash on the sidewalk. You degraded me as you violated me, taunting me with the most hurtful epithets known to man. You stripped me of my dignity. Don’t you remember jungkook? Don’t you remember any of it ? If you do, why are you forcing me to re-live it? I had kids, and I moved on from that pathetic, trusting, giving version of myself. You taught me that I must always pay the price for being kind. I will never forget it”. 

The torture was too much to bear. Jungkook crumpled off the sofa, onto the floor as he started sobbing, remembering what he had done to her. He remembered how he had hurt her again and again. They had been extremely close friends at the time, and he had ruined their friendship by crossing the line when both of them were drunk. At the time he had loved another girl, one who showed him how disgusting humanity could be. Y/N had warned him against her multiple times when they were friends , but he stupidly enough had stuck onto that girl, having a toxic relationship with her. 

When that girl had walked in on Y/N and him, finding the marriage certificate splayed out on the couch, she had broke up with him. In that frenzy of indignation, he had committed the vilest mistake of his entire life. He had forced Y/N, someone with no sexual experience, to suffer. He had degraded her verbally as he had humiliated and forced her. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. He remembered it everytime he looked at his reflection. When the violation was done, she had walked away pitifully, stumbling away from his form as she quietly uttered, “I am sorry for taking away your chance at happiness. You have punished me in a way I can never forget. I will never forget what you have taught me about our friendship. Now I know how much our friendship meant to you. Don’t worry, you will never hear from me again ”. 

As cum and blood had streamed down legs, she had dragged herself out of his house, to go back to her lonely hotel room where she sobbed and cursed at her mother for giving birth to her.  She cursed at god for her sheer existence. She would never trust again. He had damaged her forever. 

An hour after she left his house, Jungkook had understood his grievous mistake and told his Hyungs the sin he had committed. They all stared at him in shock as Yoongi started beating him, “Is THIS what we taught you Jungkook? To be a rapist and a miserable excuse of a human being?!” Everyone else stared at him in shock. Namjoon went to Bang PD to ask him to contact their lawyer. What if Y/N launched a lawsuit against Jungkook and the group? 

To all their collective surprise, they received news from Y/N’s friend Myrna, a foreign communications director at HYBE, that she had left for the U.S., going back to her home country. She had stopped at a hospital before leaving and handed Myrna an NDA drafted by a lawyer, before leaving, stating that she would not reveal anything that had gone down that day. The NDA also stated that she would like to never be contacted again, and that HYBE would face heavy legal repercussions if they ever attempted to do so. A divorce application form had been filled out and left in a pamphlet as well. All Jungkook had to do to nullify the marriage was to sign off on it”. 

Jungkook lived through his memories once again as Y/N smoothed down her dress, “If you would like to get to know the kids, I will not stop you. In fact, I had reached out to your company regarding the kids when they were born. But, I never heard back from them since. I even personally tried contacting you and your members, but none of you ever responded. Regardless, bygones will be bygones. The past is in the past. Cha-ya, Saiyan, and Arang have been brought up to be kind, forgiving individuals. They are not ruthless like their dad. Though they are angry, rightfully so as of now, they will come around and try to get to know you eventually.”

“Now, I will leave the room and allow you to talk to Cha-ya and Saiyan if that is what you wish to do. Arang will be arriving in five minutes”. 

As she got up to leave the room, she felt a firm vascular hand wrap around her wrist. She looked back to see Jungkook on his knees, head down, whimpering “I don’t wish to just know my kids. I wish to know the wife I never had”. 

Y/N reached to remove his hand off her wrist, “You must not understand what the true definition of the words ‘too little, too late’ mean”. 

TAGLIST:

@sporadicarcadebanana , @darkuni63, @jessicalynn85

[rumiraclemi]

since i’m the only one in my family that’s (not fucking LAME) dressed in costume, i’m on door answering duty, and every kid and their parent so far complimented my costume. (:<

[thecrenellations]

Queen’s Thief Appreciation, Day 11: Favorite Outfit* - A study of Helen

Please come along with me and @storieswelove on a chronological journey through six of Helen’s outfits as they evolve ... from the sheepskin coat she wears as a nine-year-old (the first character we meet in the timeline of the series!) to clothes chosen by others with various motivations and clothes she chooses herself.

I drew the Helens, and Margaux came up with this concept, wrote the accompanying gems of missing scenes, and (along with Maggie) has infused my mind with fashion references over the past few months, in the best way, while encouraging my art always.

crossposted here on AO3

*ok, we did pick more than one outfit

“Eddis” Hunting Jacket

“High up in the mountains there was still quite a bit of snow, and she shivered even in her sheepskin jacket.” - “Eddis” (reference)

“There you are, my dear,” Xanthe said as she buttoned Helen’s new coat. The little girl had grown since the fall, when the weather was last warm enough for a coat that only came to her knees. “Look how nice you look.” 

Helen stuck out her arms and looked at the coat. It was all right, she thought. The blue and white trim was pretty, but that just meant her mother or her aunts or Xanthe would chastise her when she inevitably got it dirty. She almost sighed. If they would just let her wear plain clothes maybe they wouldn’t fuss so much when they got dirty. But Xanthe was smiling at her expectantly, so Helen smiled back and, fibbing, said, “It’s a lovely coat.” 

If she didn’t care for the coat, she would be happy to have its warm mass when she snuck off with Nestor to go explore the temple soon. She had been planning all winter, and she was nearly ready to go…

Miserable Dress

“In her five-year reign she’d won the loyalty and love of her subjects. They thought she was beautiful, I told her, and they would be just as happy to see her in a a sack as in the elaborate costumes her dressers liked to bully her into.” - The Thief (reference, a beautiful dress but very not Helen)

Gen laughed in her face. “Why are you wearing that?”

"What a lovely way to speak to your queen,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him. 

Gen pulled a face of mock solemnity, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. “My queen,” he said gravely, “why are you wearing that?” 

Rolling her eyes, she walked past him, doing her best to push down her discomfort. She hated this dress. 

As she walked away, her Thief called after her. “No one cares what you wear!”

War Trousers

“Eugenides wondered when she’d started wearing trousers again. Thinking about it, he couldn’t recall seeing her in a dress except at the formal dinners.” - The Queen of Attolia

Helen stood, ready to be dressed by her attendants as they fluttered around her. She would be in meetings from the moment she left her rooms until evening. As she thought of the day ahead of her, hearing reports from her officers and making decision after decision that could alter the lives of her people, Helen began to wonder how much more she could take. She eyed the orange dress with ruffled sleeves that Selene had just brought out from her closet, and Helen realized she had found her limit. 

Holding up a hand to her attendant, she said wearily, “Trousers today. I need a break.”

Engagement Dress

“Her dress was of linen as fine as [Sounis’s] own. It had an overdress decorated in knotted cord and a waist of satin covered in tiny beads in the same pattern as the knots.” - A Conspiracy of Kings (reference)

“Are you ready?” Gen said, legs swinging from atop her dresser as Eddis’s attendants twisted the last of the pins into her short hair and wordlessly drifted back to the antechamber, leaving the cousins alone. 

Helen smiled tightly. “I hope so.” 

“Helen,” Gen said softly, “he is going to understand.” 

Helen changed the subject. “Thank you for the dress,” she said. It was worlds better than anything her attendants would have chosen, and Helen always made sure to thank Gen for his gifts of clothes. She knew it mattered to him. 

“It’s an important day. You deserved to be free of their fussing.” 

Helen snorted. Her attendants had fussed anyway, of course. “I could have done without the gold in my hair though,” she said, idly fingering her curls and looking at the gold dust on her hand. 

Gen grinned and jumped down from the dresser, coming over to kiss her forehead before he left. “It’s for luck.” 

“I’ll show you luck,” Helen said, and wiped the gold powder onto his sleeve as he hissed.

Wedding Costume

“I had been sent to the palace in time to be an eyesore at the wedding of Sounis and Eddis. Instead I had been ill and slept through it.” - Return of the Thief (reference) (another reference)

“Gods, I cannot wait to change,” Helen murmured so only Irene could hear. The sovereigns and their retinues were tucked away in an antechamber off of the dining hall, resting briefly between the temple ceremony and the feast. In the next room, heaping platters of fish and lamb, sugared almonds and honey cakes awaited them. 

“Your dress looks more comfortable than what I wore for my wedding,” Irene observed, turning in her chair to face her cousin beside her. 

Helen smiled. “There’s that, at least.” The day was hot, but not nearly as hot as it had been when Gen and Irene had married the summer before. Irene’s dress, all red and gold, had been made from layers of heavy fabrics. It must have been miserable. “It’s not the dress I mind,” Helen said. All things considered, the dress wasn’t bad. It was more ornate than most of her dresses, but that was to be expected for her wedding. It was a nod to traditional Eddisian wedding outfits but cut more to her liking, carefully chosen both for her personal comfort and to reinforce that she was still Eddis. And, neither her attendants nor her aunt had been involved in its selection. That had been the real blessing. “It’s these damned laurels,” she said, barely touching one of the delicate leaves jutting out from the floral wedding crown. “They itch, and if I scratch them I ruin my hair and my attendants will be after my head.” 

“Here,” Irene said, and leaned over to delicately adjust the worst offending leaves and flower stems to keep them from poking Helen’s head. Two attendants moved hurriedly over to help, but Attolia waved them off. “I know how to adjust a crown,” she mumbled to herself. Helen laughed.

Eddisian Uniform

“She was dressed in trousers and low boots, her over-tunic identical to her officers’ but embroidered in gold.” - The Queen of Attolia (with reference to Emily B. Martin’s official art and frogged tunics!)

She watched as Sophos blushed. She grinned. She knew that look. “Surely you have seen me in uniform before?” 

He shook his head. “I have not,” he said, stepping toward her and fingering the ornate gold closures of her military tunic. He smiled slyly. “How easy are these frogs to undo?”

---

Thank you for reading! You can read it again here on AO3

[lexosaurus]

Aurora

My Truce gift for @thelegendaryloaf! I was so pumped when I was assigned you, and I absolutely LOVED working with your prompts! Happy holidays, and I hope 2021 treats you well!

Characters: Danny and Valerie Genre: Friendship Word Count: 3523 Summary: Up close, Valerie could see him more clearly. The stars and planets that speckled throughout his face, the tiny bits of multicolored light that sparkled in his eyes, the way his aura seemed to ebb and flow as if it were the aurora in the northern sky. It was as if Phantom was someone else entirely.

Read on [ao3] [ffn]

---

“Ugh, where is that stupid ghost?” Valerie grumbled, gliding through the air on her hoverboard. She had been on her way home from Star’s house when her watch beeped to life, alerting her of an unwanted ghostly visitor. And, if the watch was correct, it was a rather powerful ghost too.

After all, very few ghosts could ping her from so far away.

But like the dutiful hunter she was, she suited up, trying to ignore the way her stomach knotted up with nerves. As much as she enjoyed sending ghosts back to the hell they came from, going up against a ghost of that much ectoplasmic power was sure to empty out her first aid kit.

She glanced down at her watch. She was getting close now. She should be able to hear screaming, see people fleeing in terror, but there was nothing to suggest a powerful ghost had breached the city.

Which meant that Phantom was likely the ghost responsible for cutting into Valerie’s precious sleep.

Valerie was going to kill him. Again. 

Her radar was leading her towards the outskirts of the city, which was odd for Phantom. When he wasn’t baiting ghosts and causing destruction to Amity, Valerie could find him at the park or on top of some tall building. 

But outside of the city? This wasn’t like him.

Maybe it wasn’t Phantom. Maybe it was some tall ghost hellbent on baiting ghost hunters far away from the populace, away from any emergency response, so they could be destroyed in peace. Maybe Valerie was walking straight to her own doom.

Oh well. It wouldn’t be the first time her career as a ghost hunter had gotten her into trouble.

“Ok, he’s definitely in there,” Valerie said, shifting between her radar and the large building in front of her.

She glanced down at her watch, then back up again. Was her watch leading her to...an observatory?

“Why the hell is he in there?” 

Valerie flew low to the ground, making sure to keep out of sight of the open roof. She was almost certain that Phantom was inside the round building, but she just couldn’t figure out why.

It didn’t make sense. He was a ghost. He didn’t care about space. What did he have to gain from traveling this far to the edge of Amity just for a stupid observatory?

She could turn back here. Just go home, leave Phantom to do whatever weird thing he was doing on his night off. And why wouldn’t she—it was Saturday! She could be in bed instead of keeping Phantom out of trouble.

But it was her responsibility. Her duty to Amity. Sure, maybe Phantom wasn’t a purely evil ghost hellbent on Amity’s destruction, maybe he was just a cocky asshole with a hero Obsession, but someone had to keep him in check. 

And that someone was about to send him back to the Ghost Zone.

“Alright, Phantom.” Valerie launched herself through the open roof and hovered above the room. “Very funny. Now, come on, it’s time to—”

“Valerie!” came a cheerful cry from below her. “You made it!”

“Phantom?” She looked down and nearly fell off her glider. Below her was Phantom, but he looked...different. 

His aura had changed, and instead of a bright white glow it swirled with violets, teals, and blues. His freckles had turned into stars and planets which shimmered across his skin, and his eyes positively sparkled.

Valerie regarded him with disgust. “What the hell? Why do you look like the Milky Way threw up on you?”

Then he did something Valerie never expected a ghost to do in a million years: he giggled. 

“I’m so glad you’re here! We have so much to talk about. Saturn and Jupiter are right next to each other, and through this telescope you can even see all of Saturn’s rings. The rings, Valerie! And oh my goddess, if you thought that was cool, wait till you see the Pleiades!” Phantom reached a hand out, and his swirling aura shot forward, wrapping itself around the telescope in front of him.

“Wait, don’t break it!” Valerie shouted, touching down on the floor. But, before she could so much as ready an ecto-gun, she stopped.

Because the telescope wasn’t breaking apart.

It was moving. 

Valerie watched in a mix of horror and fascination as the telescope in front of Phantom adjusted itself, shifting around and settling into place. The aura dimmed, leaving behind a telescope that didn’t look any more ghostly than before Phantom’s interference.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on right now?”

Phantom’s beamed. “Look! Take a look!”

“Oh hell no. I’m not going anywhere near that possessed thing!”

He laughed, and for a moment his aura brightened. “Just trust me, Val!”

“Don’t call me that,” Valerie muttered, but nonetheless stepped towards the telescope. She gave one last suspicious glance Phantom’s way before she leaned forward and looked through the stupid metal thing.

Saturn stared back at her, its rings preening like a peacock against the vast emptiness around it. She had never seen Saturn before, not outside of Google Images anyhow. It looked exactly like all the pictures showed, and yet seeing it in person was...really cool. 

“And wait!” Phantom’s childish voice bubbled from behind her. Cold swept over her and she flinched, her arm instinctively twitching for her gun, before she realized what was happening.

Phantom was wrapping his galaxy aura around the telescope and moving it again.

“Okay, look now!”

Valerie glanced quizzically back towards the ghost, searching for any signs of malevolence, but his innocent smile never wavered.

“Are you high or something?” she finally asked.

He giggled again. “Stop making jokes and look already!”

She rolled her eyes but relented once more. When she looked through the telescope this time, she was met with another tan colored planet. This one had brown stripes running through the sides, warping to show an unmistakable eye-like figure towards the middle of it.

“Is that...is that Jupiter?”

“Yeah!” Phantom clapped. “And if you look, there should be some of its moons in view too! Look around it, Val!”

“Don’t call me that,” she muttered without any real malice. Sure enough, a few tiny tan dots surrounded the planet. “How many moons does it have, anyway?”

“Seventy-nine!” Phantom said.

“Jesus, wonder what its tides are like.”

Phantom playfully nudged her. “Silly Val, it doesn’t have an ocean! I know you know that. But if you think that’s crazy, Saturn actually has more moons than Jupiter does! It has eighty two.”

She stepped away from the telescope, and once again Phantom’s aura took command, adjusting the lens to a new spot. Phantom immediately jumped to the telescope with a ferocity that Valerie had only seen him use in the heat of the moment when fighting other ghosts. Yet, she noticed the way he delicately touched the telescope, allowing his fingers to gently hold the metal shell as he peered into space with a fascination that seemed too ethereal to be real.

Phantom was destructive, he was a fighter, he was driven by his Obsession to fight and be a hero. He wasn’t...this. 

“Seriously, what the hell happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” Phantom asked in a singsong voice.

“I mean this,” Valerie emphasized, allowing her arms to sweep out around her. “All of this! What...Phantom, I know we’re not friends, but—”

“Of course we are!” 

Valerie blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re friends, Val!” Phantom repeated, detaching from the telescope momentarily to hover next to Valerie. 

She could feel his cold aura brushing against her arm, and she suppressed a shudder. “Are you messing with me?”

Phantom peered up at her, his glowing eyes seeming almost offended by her accusation.

Offended? Hurt? Phantom? 

“Val, why would you say that? Of course we’re friends! We’re hanging out right now, right? That’s what friends do!” 

Up close, Valerie could see him more clearly. The stars and planets that speckled throughout his face, the tiny bits of multicolored light that sparkled in his eyes, a shooting star that traveled across his cheek, the way his aura seemed to ebb and flow as if it were the aurora in the northern sky.

It was as if Phantom was someone else entirely. It was like another ghost had taken possession over him. Was controlling him from the inside out.

Valerie’s hand slowly moved down towards her belt, but it didn’t seem to matter. Phantom didn’t notice. In fact, he shot her a beaming smile and turned his attention back to the telescope, rambling about how astronomers believe that diamonds rain on Uranus and Neptune as if Valerie’s hand wasn’t slowly inching towards her gun.

“It’s just a hypothesis really,” Phantom said. “Scientists can’t really study inside the planets yet because they’re so far away. But I hope it’s true! It would be so cool! Imagine, you’re just an alien on these planets, and then suddenly you walk outside and there’s solid diamonds falling from the sky! They wouldn’t be that pretty probably because the diamonds wouldn’t be shaped nicely, also those planets aren’t habitable to any life so there’s no aliens, but it’s still cool to imagine! Oh, oh, but if you thought that was cool, there’s this other planet—not in our galaxy—that’s really really close to its sun so it’s super hot but guess what? Val, you’ll never guess! It’s solid ice! The gravity is so strong that it forced all the water on its planets into ice and—”

Valerie gripped the gun, raising it to eye level and clicking the safety off.

Phantom’s head snapped up. He looked to the gun, then to Valerie, and his aura faltered.

“Val?” Phantom said, the stars on his face dimming. “I...I don’t understand...why…?”

“You’re not Phantom.” Valerie’s voice was steady. “I don’t know who you are, but get out of him.”

“I don’t understand…” The colored flecks of light in Phantom’s eyes faded, leaving them back to their vibrant green. “I...just…I...” His aura fluctuated before turning back to its hauntingly white glow.

“...Valerie?” Phantom 's voice was cautious. He took stock of the gun once more before a hint of realization bled through his expression. He slowly raised his hands. “Wait! I know what this looks like, but I swear I wasn’t doing anything. Don’t—”

“Phantom! There’s a ghost inside you. It was possessing you! I need to take it out. I need to—”

“Wait, Val, stop! You don’t know what you’re doing!” 

“I think it’s trying to lead us to a trap. This will only sting for a moment!”

“No! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Phantom glanced wildy around the room, his eyes locking onto the telescope once more.

Then, his aura flared, the aurora fought to return, his freckles sparkled like stars once more. A hint of childlike wonder hit his features and for a moment, he seemed lost in the fascination of the observatory.

It was the perfect opportunity to shoot.

But Valerie’s hands were shaking. They were unsteady, just like they were when she first started using the equipment. And in that split second of uncertainty, that moment of hesitation, Phantom gripped his hair and pulled himself out of his stupor.

“No!” he groaned. “Not now!”

“What the hell is going on?” Valerie shouted. 

“Don’t shoot! Just—ugh, gimmie a sec…” He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. “I just godda...I just need a second.”

To Valerie’s surprise, she waited. Maybe it was the growing respect she’d begun to feel for Phantom over the past year, maybe it was her fading hatred as she learned more about ghosts, maybe it wasn’t anything deep and it was just that Valerie was confused. In any case, she followed his pleas and watched as he pulled himself together, drawing his shimmering aura inward and allowing the familiar homogenous white aura to wash over him.

He gave a final sigh of relief. “Okay. Okay, I’m good now. You can lower the gun.”

“Tell me first.” Her voice allowed for no arguments. “Tell me what the hell just happened, and then maybe I’ll think about it.”

“It’s complicated.”

Valerie noticed how he seemed to be making a visible effort to ignore all the astronomy equipment around them. His eyes were trained to her and her only.

“Then enlighten me.”

“I…” He hesitated.

“I’m giving you five seconds before I blast you unconscious.”

He blinked, and then his expression shifted into the cocky, shit-eating grin Phantom that Valerie had come to know over these months, “As if you could hit me.”

“Don’t change the subject, Phantom. I’m serious.”

He sobered. “Right. Sorry. I...listen, it’s personal, okay? I’m telling you because I trust you, but you can’t tell anyone. If any of my enemies find out…”

“Tell me.”

“Okay.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What do you know of...of Obsessions?”

“Every ghost has one. It’s what controls their core, what gives them power. All ghosts are driven by their Obsession and if they manage to fulfill it or they’re somehow blocked from feeding into their Obsession for too long, they’ll cease to exist. Why? What does this have to do with anything?”

“I…” His face screwed up before he gave out a frustrated huff. “Oh, what the hell! I have two Obsessions.”

Valerie faltered, her gun lowering ever so slightly. 

She didn’t know what she expected, but this? 

“You what?”

Was this even possible? Better yet, how was it possible? Every ghost had an Obsession, but every ghost had one Obsession. It was impossible for a ghost to have two. It would be torment for the ghost, the two Obsessions constantly battling inside their core for dominance.

It would tear him apart from the inside out, wouldn’t it?

But Valerie watched as Phantom’s eyes strayed beside them to a small white telescope sitting off to the side of the room, and Valerie watched as his aura seemed to fluctuate again as the other side of him fought for control.

Once again, Phantom screwed his eyes shut and fought the aura down, allowing his natural white glow to pulsate over his form brighter than before. 

“Can we take this outside?” he asked, his voice tight. “This room is...distracting.”

Valerie allowed her arm to drop, her gun hanging loosely at her side. “Sure.”

“Ok, I need to...I need to slip back into it to close the observatory walls. I can’t access those powers in this form. I’m not dangerous in that state, so please don’t shoot me.”

She nodded, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t see her with his eyes shut. But he seemed to hear the unspoken words regardless. The blues, greens, and purples of his aura swirled around him, overtaking his aura in a brilliant display of light. The stars and planets returned to his face, and when he finally opened his eyes, it was as if Valerie could see the entire Milky Way within his corneas.

He raised his arms, his face relaxed, and allowed his aura to seep out to the walls. The room glowed, and Valerie watched with an open mouth as the incandescent colors of the northern lights guided the observatory walls closed. They cascaded through the walls before finally dimming, leaving Phantom as the only remaining source of light.

“Okay,” he said, the childlike bubble to his voice echoing around the room. “Let’s go!”

Before she could blink, Phantom grabbed her arm and spread his aura out around her. She let out a yelp of protest before she could feel a familiar chill overtake her skin.

Phantom was...he was turning her intangible. 

“Ready?” He asked. His eyes seemed to glow brighter in the dark.

Valerie looked up at him, breathless.

He grinned and pulled her forward, shooting them both through the walls. They flew up for a moment before shooting back down towards a cluster of trees. 

Valerie had flown on her hoverboard many times, but this was incredible. It was as if gravity didn’t exist. Her body was weightless, flowing across the air with a precision that she’d never felt before.

But as soon as it started, it stopped. The duo landed on the ground, and Phantom broke contact with her. Warmth immediately filled her veins. She glanced back towards the observatory, but the trees blocked her view.

That was probably intentional, if Phantom’s earlier display of cognitive dissonance had anything to do with it.

Valerie waited once more, watching as Phantom’s aura seemed to waver, before settling back into white. When it seemed like he was more or less back to normal, she finally spoke. “Okay, explain. What do you mean you have two Obsessions? How is that possible?” 

“I don’t know.” Phantom’s gaze was downcast. “I mean, my, uh...death was rather, um, complicated. I think.”

She raised an eyebrow. 

Ghosts never talked about their death. According to Maddie Fenton, it was a taboo. Bringing the topic up would only result in angering the ghost.

So for Phantom to bring his own death up like this…

This was uncharted waters for any human.

This was serious.

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can’t explain it, but it didn’t go right. I don’t—I can’t…” He huffed, his eyes turning up to her with an almost desperate look. “You must have noticed that I’m just different, right?”

Valerie nodded slowly. “I have, but you’re still just a ghost.”

Phantom’s eyes widened before turning back to the ground. “Right. I...no, you’re right. I’m just a ghost. But I…”

Valerie watched as his eyebrows pinched, his mouth thinning as something inside of him fought to surface. She wanted to speak, wanted to ask what did he mean when he said he was different, but she didn’t.

She couldn’t. 

She didn’t know what to say.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quiet. “When I died, it went wrong. And my core couldn’t decide on what it wanted to be, so something inside of it fractured. One part of it focused on the people in the room with me, the people that I was worried about. I wanted to make sure they were safe. My friends. I wanted to protect them.”

Valerie held her breath.

According to studies, most ghosts didn’t remember their prior life, or the people in it. Memory loss was just a part of the process of transforming from human to ghost.

And yet…

Phantom clearly did.

“The other part of my core went to the thing I was doing just moments before. I was...I wanted to explore. I always loved space and astronomy. I wanted to work for NASA and see other worlds and...other dimensions. I know it sounds crazy, but it was just who I was. Who I still am.”

He looked up at her, and Valerie saw remnants of stars speckle in his eyes. “So my core settled on two modes. And depending on where I am or what I’m doing, it switches between them. My powers shift too. When I’m normal, I can project ectoblasts and control ice. But when I go into my space mode, I can’t do any of that. But I can control astronomy equipment, as you saw, and I can locate any star or planet in the sky.”

“So that’s how you knew where to move the telescope?” 

“Yeah.” He held out his hand, and a little ice Saturn formed in his palm. “I don’t know how I know where things are, but I just know. But it only happens when I let that part of my core take control of my body.”

“I see.” Valerie breathed out. “I get it. I get why you don’t want anyone to know. That’s kind of terrifying, knowing that you have a half of you that’s so defenseless.”

“Right…” Phantom set the planet down on the grass. “If word got out...if the government found out…”

Realization hit Valerie like a truck. “They could set up a trap, couldn’t they? Lure you into a place like this and take you out. It would be too easy.”

“Exactly,” Phantom said bitterly. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

Phantom nodded, relief evident on his features. “Thank you, Valerie.”

Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward. And then again, approaching him slowly as if she were afraid he would disappear. 

But he didn’t move. He didn’t flinch.

He trusted her. Even after everything, he trusted her with one of his most vulnerable secrets.

She closed the gap between them, resting a hand on his shoulder and looking him square in the face. “I mean it, Phantom. I won’t tell anyone. Well, so long as you promise me one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Bring me back here sometime, alright?” She shot him a grin. “This place is pretty cool, and if I have some sort of space wizard with me, I bet we could find a lot of sweet stuff, yeah?”

His aura brightened, and the smile was evident on his face. “Sure thing, Val!”

---

Thanks for reading!

[lunapwrites]

Numb

(I am once again posting unedited nightmares to Tumblr.)

CW: strong language, violence, character death. The first thing Remus noticed was that the floor was cold. The texture rough against his stubbled cheek, scraping against his forearms as he slowly pushed himself up. He blinked blearily, eyes adjusting to the dim torchlight. Stone floors, stone walls, iron bars.

A cell.

His head was throbbing; there was dried blood in his hair. This time it might have been his own. He recalled bright lights, curses flying, sizzling past his ear. Red. Darkness.

A Stunner.

How did they find me?

He couldn't remember.

If he concentrated, he could hear breathing, other heartbeats. One, two, three... no, four. He scented the air; three male, one female. Human, goblin. Familiar — very familiar, though he was struggling to think beyond the pounding in his skull. He couldn't recall their faces.

Somewhere out of view, a door swung open: hinges creaking, wood groaning, scraping along the floor. A jangle of keys. This scent... (juniper berry and wood shavings and cheap dusty tea) this scent he knew.

rat rat rat

"Oh good, you're not dead," Peter said in a tone that might have sounded cheerful if not for the underlying tension of attempted murder and heart-wrenching betrayal.

"Sorry to disappoint," Remus replied. His voice was rougher than the stone he'd woken on and twice as cold. On the other side of the wall, two heartbeats quickened; a quiet intake of breath.

They know me.

"Ah, don't be like that, Moony. I've brought you supper."

"Think I'd rather starve, thanks."

Peter gave that snorty little laugh that Remus used to privately think was endearing and now just made him want to yank the bastard's brains out through his nostrils.

"Just as dramatic as ever, I see." He showed the plate to Remus. "It's just a bacon sarnie. Light on the butter and practically raw, just the way you like it."

It was the way he liked it, and Remus hated him for it.

"Why am I here?"

"Skipping right over the small talk, eh? That's not like you at all." Peter opened a small grate, pushing the plate through the bars. "Come on, Moony. You know why."

"Don't call me that."

If he hadn't been watching for it, he'd have missed the tiny flicker of hurt across Peter's face. The twitch of his brows, the near imperceptible thinning of his already too-thin lips. The shadows under his eyes darkening.

He looked terrible. He looked sorry. Remus hated him even more.

"Alright, Remus then. Or would you prefer Lupin?"

"I would prefer you didn't call me anything, honestly."

"Too bad," Peter said briskly. "I'm the jailor, so unless you just don't want to talk at all..."

"That would be lovely, actually."

"Liar." Peter grinned. "You love hearing yourself talk, always did. You were worse than James—"

The bars rattled as Remus slammed into them, fury bubbling in his veins. Peter leapt out of his reach, eyes wide, frightened as he'd been that night in the shack.

"DON'T!" Remus snarled, fangs bared. "Don't you ever speak his name!"

Peter stared at him, his hummingbird pulse slowly steadying as he remembered who was on which side of the bars. He put his hands up, placating.

"Alright, Remus. Fair enough. I'm sorry."

No you're not.

Peter hovered awkwardly for a moment, rocking on his heels like he had something more to say — like there was anything more to say. As if he had a right to be disappointed that Remus would sooner swallow his own tongue than accept anything he offered.

"Right. I'll leave you to it, then. Be back tomorrow."

Remus watched him slip out of the room in silence, the heavy door swinging shut, the lock turning with a dull click just as the plate shattered against the wall.

-

"Brought you some soup today," Peter said conversationally. "Figured you might need it after talking to Bellatrix."

He slipped the bowl through the grate; Remus didn't move from his spot against the opposite wall. Every one of his nerve endings was on fire, but he'd be damned before he'd show it.

"She really needs to work on her conversational skills," he croaked, and immediately regretted it. Peter's eyes sharpened, searching his face.

Nothing to see here. Not for you.

"She was always mad as a hatter before, but Azkaban really didn't do her any favours in that regard." Peter sighed, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. "Can't say I'm upset about getting out of that one."

It was in that moment that Remus decided that the Killing Curse was too good for Peter.

He hauled himself to his feet, trudging over to the front of the cell on shaky legs, leaning over carefully to pick up his supper.

"I see you remembered my favourite again." He sniffed at the bowl of soup suspiciously, checking for strange ingredients.

Potato. Leek. Broth... chicken I think. Cream. Bacon again, probably leftover.

"Figured a taste of home might not go amiss," Peter said quietly, frowning. "I haven't poisoned it, you know."

"I'm well aware that the only thing you poison is friendships," Remus agreed. "If you wanted to kill me, I should watch for a knife in my back."

"...That's not fair."

"Isn't it?"

They stared one another down silently, Peter with his best rainy morning face on, Remus towering above him like a thundercloud. He slowly poured the soup out onto the floor, flinging the bowl back through the bars. Peter dodged at the last second; it bounced off the wall next to his ear and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

He'd learned his lesson since the plate, apparently.

"Right," Peter declared in an overly plummy tone as he pushed off the wall, "we'll just try again tomorrow, shan't we?"

-

The following day, Peter brought down bangers and mash; it was cold and grainy, and the bangers were burned to hell.

Remus ate it anyway.

-

"You know, as pleased as I am that you've stopped throwing tantrums over the food," Peter mused through a mouthful of toast, "I'm genuinely surprised you haven't asked me why I did it."

Remus paused, looking up from his plate through one, unswollen eye.

"Probably because it doesn't matter."

He spoke slowly, as if to a particularly dim child, as if he weren't lying through his teeth.

Peter scoffed, spots of colour rising to his cheeks.

"Please, like you didn't spend twelve years tearing yourself up over Sirius. Why should my reasons matter less?"

"I'll give you three guesses."

Peter wrinkled his nose, scowling.

"You always liked him best."

"Dunno what to tell you, Pete. He gives great head."

There was a muffled snort from the neighbouring cell. Dean, by the sound of it. A week ago, Remus might have even been embarrassed.

"Remus Lupin, unfiltered," Peter said with a wistful shake of his head. "I fucking missed you, you know."

"This is very good bread. Do give my compliments to whichever unfortunate elf was responsible for it."

"That would be me."

Remus snorted at him, raising his mug of water in toast.

"Here's to moving up in the world."

"Fuck off." Peter eyed him speculatively for a long moment. "It was because I wanted it to end."

Remus peered at him over the rim of his mug.

There was a dark intensity emanating from Peter. Not dangerous in the same way that Bellatrix or even Sirius was; sharp and sinewy, a predator stalking prey. It was as if Remus was moving among the stars and encountered a vast nothing that devoured everything it dragged into its field.

No sound, no light, just cold, dead silence.

"All my friends were dying or turning into people I didn't recognise anymore, and I was terrified," Peter continued quietly. "Every day I was terrified, and I just wanted it to end. I didn't care how."

He pushed off the wall, leaving without waiting for a response.

It didn't matter. There was nothing to say.

-

On the fifth day, an apple rolled off the plate as Peter approached the cell. It hit the ground, rolling at his feet. He leaned down to recover it, and the rest happened very quickly.

Remus rushed forward, his arm darting out to catch Peter around his neck as he rose back up, yanking him back hard against the bars.

"You always were an idiot."

Peter thrashed and struggled in his grip. His fancy silver hand clawed at Remus' forearm, more powerful than Peter had any right to be.

But Remus was stronger.

"I would be lying if I said I didn't miss you, Pete," he said calmly, tightening his grip. "I missed you every day, like a limb. I still do."

The keys were jangling against Peter's belt loop, against the bars. Remus could reach through and grab them now, if he wanted to.

"You weren't the only one who was afraid, you know? We were just kids. Only the rest of us learned to kill our enemies instead of our brothers."

It wasn't about the keys.

"My brothers died twelve years ago." The fingers scratching and scrabbling against his arm were weakening, slowing. "I buried one with his wife in Godric's Hollow, and they put up a little statue for them that I still can't stand to look at."

Peter's knees buckled, his weight against Remus' steady arm adding pressure.

"I buried the other in a little plot in Coxheath, and I used to wonder why it couldn't have been me. And I grieved."

Remus took a deep, slow breath. A holy calm settled over him.

"I want you to know," he continued in that same soft, conversational tone, "that everything you've done has amounted to nothing. That you are nothing, and no one will remember you."

Things happened very slowly after that.

Peter stopped struggling.

Remus counted heartbeats.

There were six.

And then there were five.

He reached down and pulled the keyring from Peter's belt, popping the beltloop clear off. It wasn't like Peter needed it anymore. He left the body against the bars, opening the door to his cell without looking back.

-

"Hullo Professor."

Dean was watching him open their cell door with wide eyes, more surprised — appraising — than fearful. Luna waved at him cheerfully, same as when he'd last seen her, if a little taller. Remus nodded to them both in greeting.

"I'd say it's good to see you both, but I'm rather sorry you're here. Can everyone move under their own power?"

"Ollivander and Griphook are both a bit worse for wear," Dean said apologetically.

"Alright, well give me a hand now then."

-

It only took a few moments for them to get Griphook and Ollivander situated on Dean and Remus' backs, respectively. Remus, in the meantime, had been coming up with a plan.

So long as they were quiet and careful, he could sniff out the exit while avoiding the manor's residents. They just needed to be quick about it; he didn't know how long it would be before Peter was missed.

But no sooner did he reach his hand out for the door than it burst open, revealing a particularly unhinged-looking Sirius, closely flanked by Harry and Ron.

There was a short pause in which the two men processed one anothers' sudden appearance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Remus asked faintly.

"We came to rescue you," Sirius said with a vaguely affronted tone.

Remus turned around, looking at the assortment of prisoners he'd broken out and the cooling body of the jailor at the other end of the room, and then turned back to Sirius.

"Well done."

Harry let out a choked sort of noise that might have been either a sob or a snort, he wasn't quite sure.

"Right," Ron said quickly. "So, mission accomplished, let's go!"

He and Harry ushered Dean-and-Griphook and Luna up the stairs first, Ron taking point and Harry flanking. The moment they were out of the room, Sirius reached out and cupped Remus's jaw, brushing a thumb across his cheek. He felt something damp on his face.

"Have you been crying?"

Remus shrugged.

"Maybe. I didn't feel anything," he said quietly, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. Let's go."

Remus pushed past him, following the boys up the stairs. Sirius followed close behind.

They didn't look back.

[quirklessthot]

kinktober: day 18 | lingerie  [iida]

warnings: 18+, semi-public sex

word count: 1.8k

a/n me: i don’t really write for iida, i dunno his character just doesn’t really speak to me. also me: *not only writes for iida but makes his entry the longest i’ve written so far*  🤡

⤿  kinktober masterlist

Tenya Iida is a very busy man, as one would expect from a pro hero running his very own agency. Not that you’re not proud of your husband – there isn’t a happier spouse in the world than yourself. But it does get lonely when he has to stay at the agency office late almost every other night. You especially hate it when your time alone with him, scarce as it is, is interrupted by an important call or some villain attack. So, it’s no wonder that you begin to feel a little… neglected. And it’s a problem that you’re determined to fix.

You hum happily to yourself as you step out of the shower, grinning widely at the special outfit you have laid out on your bed. This plan is foolproof, you think to yourself as you get dressed. If this doesn’t get Tenya to pay attention to you, nothing will. The finishing touches is a pair of heels and the long, tan trench coat that Tenya got you for Christmas last year.

With one last onceover in your full length mirror to make sure nothing is out of place you head out for the Ingenium Agency. You’re greeted by the bubbly receptionist with a smile when you walk through the large glass doors of the agency.

“I’m here to see my husband,” you explain.

She’s already picking up the phone on her desk. “I’ll give him a call and let him know.”

You put out a hand to stop her, tittering nervously when she gives you a concerned look. “No need! I-It won’t take long – a quick in and out.”

She regards you curiously for a moment before breaking out into a sunny smile. “Of course!”

You thank her and quickly make your way towards the elevators, heels clacking on the tiled floors with every step. Once the elevator doors close shut and you feel it begin to ascend, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Before you know it, the elevator comes to a stop, pinging to let you know you’ve reached the top floor, and slowly opens its doors.

Iida – thankfully - has almost the entire floor to himself, with just one other, smaller office closer to the elevator. The door is closed and you’re hoping that means they’re still vacant, Iida’s been meaning to hire a new personal assistant for the longest but never gets around to it. His own behemoth of an office sits all the way at the back of the building. You have to stop yourself from running towards the large polished wood door in your excitement.

Without knocking, you open the door to his office as silently as possible and poke your head inside. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be particularly busy. He’s sitting at his desk, large and imposing just like the man himself, nose buried in one of the many books that line the walls behind him. You’re hoping that your little surprise is more interesting than whatever that dusty old tome has in it.

Iida glances up at you for a second before going back to reading. It takes a few seconds for him to realize what he just saw, and he does a double take, looking at you with wide eyes and uttering your name in surprise.

“Is something the matter, my love?” he asks, moving to get up but sitting back down when you motion for him to stay where he is.

“Can’t I drop by to see how my husband’s doing?” you ask, closing and discreetly locking the door behind you. “Besides, I’ve got a present for you,” you add coyly once you’re standing directly in front of his desk.

“You do?” Iida looks you up and down, searching for a box or bag but all he sees is you, hands folded in front of you. “Where is it?”

You bite your lip to hold back your giddy smile and move your hands towards the belt of your trench coat. You slowly unbuckle it, pealing open your coat to reveal what you’re wearing underneath. You’re dressed in a stunning little number you know he’ll love – all delicate white lace and ribbons. The soft fabric hugs your body in a way that flatters your body so well even you couldn’t believe your eyes when you had put it on. Best of all, it’s a very recent purchase so it’s a set he has never seen before.

Your arousal has made the already thin material of your panties almost sheer and Iida can just about make out the puffy lips of your slick little cunt. His dick twitches to life in his slacks at the lewd sight.

You’re not sure what you expected from your husband once you showed up to his office in nothing but lingerie and heels but the stony, almost-glare he’s giving you is very last on the list. You begin to feel self-conscious when he doesn’t react, shrinking into yourself under his intense gaze. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all…

Just as you’re about to cover up, face burning with embarrassment, Iida stops you and beckons you closer, pushing out his chair. Unsure, you walk around the wide expense of his desk to stand directly in front of him, fidgeting nervously with the sleeves of your coat.

Iida to face you, silently regarding with the same blank, controlled expression.

“Did anyone see you... like this?” he asks, adjusting his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. His voice is low and strained, and he hopes you don’t think it’s out of anger. Anger is the furthest emotion from his mind right now. It’s taking every ounce of self-control to not bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t think so.” You made sure that your coat was secured and fastened properly so that no one would catch even a glimpse of what’s underneath – you think you’d die of embarrassment if someone caught on to what you had planned.

He gives a short nod, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

“Well,” Iida says, clearing his throat. “You said this was my gift, stop hiding and let me see you.”

Perking up instantly, you shrug the coat off, allowing it to fall into a heap on the floor. Iida shifts his legs apart and you immediately step between them. You see that he’s not as unaffected as he’s putting on. But before you can comment on the tent he’s pitching, Iida turns your around and sits you on his lap, pressing your ass right up against his straining cock.

He fiddles with the lacy strap of your bra, moving his hand down to cup and squeeze your breast, drawing a quiet whimper from your parted lips. His hand slips further down, across your tummy and down between your thighs, the other goes under your thigh to lift it up and spread you open even more. With a hum, he pets your soaked cunt, rolling your engorged clit over the material of your panties, saturated and sticky with your arousal. The cool air against your soaked flesh makes you shiver in Iida’s hold, pressing back against his broad chest. You moan, thighs closing around his hand, before he pries them open again, commanding you to keep them spread.

“What brought this on, my love?” Iida asks, bending his head to press kisses against your neck and jaw. He pulls your panties to the side, and dips two thick fingers into your wet heat all the way up to the third knuckle. You groan, back arching as you clench tight around the intrusion.

“Mm… I m-missed you,” you reply, just a hint of a pout in your voice. “You’re hardly home anymore.”

“So, all of this is… what? A ploy for my attention?” He continues to fuck you open with his fingers, wet squelch every time he bottoms out. “Have you been that needy?”

You don’t answer, too busy enjoying the feel of Iida’s fingers massaging your walls. You’re never able to reach as deep as he does with your own fingers.

Iida slides his fingers out and delivers a quick spank to your clit that has you keening. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes!” you gasp. “Yes, Tenya. Please!”

You whine when he pulls his wet fingers away to grip your other thigh.

“Help me out, sweetheart. I would, but my hands are full.” He gives your thighs a squeeze.

You reach underneath you and nearly pop the button off in your haste, tugging down the zipper and reaching inside to pull his cock out. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, thick enough that you almost can’t wrap your hand around it fully. You purr in satisfaction as you collect the glob of precum beading the tip and use it to slide your hand up and down his turgid length.

“Be a good girl and put it in,” Iida mutters in your ear, readjusting his grip on your thighs and lifting you up slightly.

You line up the head of his dick with your eager little cunt and as soon as you manage to fit the head in, Iida’s pushing his hips upwards while lowering you down, wasting no time to spear you on his cock.

You don’t know whether it’s the angle or the fact that he hasn’t fucked you properly in a while, but you’re so full you swear you can cum from this alone.He starts up a quick pace, fucking up into you with all the pent up frustration he’s been holding in. It seems you’re not the only one affected by his long absences.

“Harder,” you beg, voice high and reedy.

He is more than happy to oblige, each hard thrust paired with the loud smack of skin on skin contact. The blunt head of his dick kisses the tip of your cervix and you nearly black out.

“T-Tenya, please.” You slide a hand between your legs, swirling your fingers messily around your sensitive little clit. “Please, please, please...!”

You feel the familiar heat building up in the pit of your stomach and you throw your head back, grinding your hips down even harder. You can’t believe you’re close already.

“Cum,” he orders, bouncing you on his dick until you cream all over him, ruining the expensive silk slacks of his suit. Not that it’s a concern for either of you at the moment.

Your body sags, and you lean heavily against Iida’s chest, completely spent but more than satisfied. You don’t even realize that Iida hasn’t cum yet, that he’s still hard inside your spasming little pussy.

You cry out when he starts up again seconds later, pussy too sensitive from your intense orgasm. Whining, you beg for him to slow down, give you a chance to rest and collect your senses but your pleas fall on deaf ears.

You wanted his attention so badly? Well, you’ve got it.

[secretaryunpaid]

5. “I pushed you away because…I was scared. Never in my life had someone so earnestly tried to be my friend. I was bitter because ‘bitter’ was all I knew how to be. And I’m sorry for that—I really am.” “It isn’t too late, you know.”

Any Pairing and any a.u you feel speaks to you

Pairing: Dahlia Dalton X Robin Flores

Word Count: 1,860 approximately

Rating: Explicit

Warning(s): Not for immature minds, 17+, adult intercourse, bondage, cum play, spanking, female pegging

Music Inspiration:

Cum Get It (E) - Tink

Do For Me (E) - Tank

Girls Need Love (E) - Vedo

Alone With You(E) - Alina Baraz

Sending a quick text, she receives confirmation that he is home. “Sure, I haven’t seen my nephews in a while. What is this really about though, Dahlia.” With no response over the next five minutes, he phones her.

Hearing her sobs, he immediately becomes concerned. “How close are you?”

“I’m pulling into the garage now. The boys are asleep. Can you help me bring them in?” Upon taking a deep steadying breath, Robin opens the door. “I…” She immediately falls against him in exhaustion, tears flowing faster than before.

“Hey, now… What’s going on?” Feeling things he shouldn’t right now, he gently strokes her shoulder, attempting to soothe her staggered breathing. “I… just need a friend right now…“ Knowing there is much more, he doesn’t pry. He smooths his palms against her back until she finally calms. “Let’s get everyone inside, huh?” She nods, drying her tears, inhaling quickly…

Once inside, he suggests putting the boys on the bed in the spare room. Privacy will definitely be needed. The boys don’t need to see Dahlia upset. They can never understand and usually end up crying in her arms along with her.

With the twins snugly sleeping, Robin and Dahlia move to a part of the penthouse furthest away from the boys to discuss what has her in such a broken state. “Robin, have you ever trusted someone to have your back through everything and then they do the worst damage to you over everyone else? … Wait dumb question right… I wasn’t think- “

“Don’t apologize, Dahlia… This isn’t about me right now… What did my brother do?” Before the words fully reach her ears, she’s sobbing quietly, unable to face his question… “Can we … I don’t … I’m lost right now… I can’t even form a damned coherent sentence…”

“You don’t have to say, I know already that it’s Sam… This scenario has played out one too many times… Especially in colle- … I’m sorry, forgive me…” She peers up for a moment, “It’s really okay, Robin… You’re not wrong…”

“What does it for you? I mean, Sam isn’t the easiest character to deal with. I have to give it to you… You tamed him better than anyone I have seen, yet… So what is it about him that “keeps you”?”

“What does it for you? I mean… What gets you off?,” she boldly asks Robin. You taunt and tease, but is it just a facade? Are you … compensating?”

“That’s a loaded question you’ve asked me… Careful of that curiosity… it kills!” Showing that she isn’t afraid of a challenge, she strokes his crotch, flexing a brow, deepening her stare… “Is it ... loaded? I can help you with that minor problem!”

She drags her tongue against his closed lips, arousing him and providing a challenge at the same time. This would be an immediate situation, except now, she isn’t just Sam’s plaything … She is his wife now, and if he’s honest with himself, his enemy…

“Gonna make me work for answers, I see. More fun for me!” She trails her nail over his growing attraction, slowly batting her lashes as she casts her spell… Her hand moves up to pull his shirt free from his trousers, teasing his perfectly toned abs just before leaning close to trace the outline with the tip of her tongue.

“Give in to me Robin, or are you milking this for its worth?” The soft spoken words tickle as her breath grazes the sensitive places of his heating flesh. He adjusts as if pulling away, but she soon feels his fingers tracing her neckline. “Why now, Dahlia?... Why not before you became my brother’s property?”

“Property? Hmmm, m’kay… Can property make you feel like this?” She straddles his lap, slowly teasing her center against his. She slides her hands up his abs, spreading along his chest until she teases his nipples between her nails, lightly applying pressure.

“So you’re saying his Audi makes you feel like this?” Kissing him, slowly inserting her tongue into his mouth as it loses resistance to her advance, Watching the flicker in his eyes, she knows the fire has been fully lit, and only taking her fully would put it out.

She presses her breast against him, taking his hands in hers, massaging them as her head lolls back for his kiss against her neck. Unable to resist, he presses his lips to her flush skin. “Lick it, Robin… Tease me with your tongue… I’m feeling sinful…”

Her throaty groan sets the tempo, and he falls into her first line of capture. “So… again,” she says, kissing his full lips, “What? (Kisses his chin) Gets? (Licks from his chin to bottom lip) You? (Grinds hard against him) Off? (Leans back, staring like a panther ready to pounce)”

“Giving back shots, tasting what’s forbidden, fucking you so hard you’ll beg me not to stop … pleading through the pain… Need I say more?” Licking her lips in anticipation, “Say nothing... Do ... everything… someplace … private.”

“Are you sure that you are ready to walk on the ‘dark side of the moon’? You should be careful of what you let your curiosity get into… I won’t relent… So… You must give your consent…” She simply crosses her wrists behind her back, winking to assure him that she is a big girl… “Safe word or phrase ?...”

Hesitating to form something uncommon, she confirms, “Dark Phoenix”, and he begins to bind her wrists together, connecting them to the ankle restraints. (She has already informed him that he can unzip her skirt for removal, but all else must remain. With the twins here, she can’t afford to delay answering them should they wake.)

As he removes her skirt, he stares at every exposed area, teasing his nails against her inner thigh, sending a shiver of semi-release through her. Moaning, she spreads her thighs… “Again… Please, Robin.” As he does, he notices her sit back for just a moment, body trembling.

“I mean, I know I’m that good Dahlia… but give me a chance to feel that release.” Eyes coming back center, she lowers her gaze, slowly retracting her tongue against her teeth, as she squeezes her thighs together tightly. “Spank me, Robin.”

Eager to follow her commands, he moves behind her, smacking her ass cheek firmly, then gently rubbing light circles to soothe the sting. He reaches up through her legs, teasing her clit before running his fingers inside her folds, moving back to her anus… shocked by the fuzzy tickle of his forearm. “

“Are you wearing a vibrating butt plug, Dahlia? ... Kinky girl!” Her gentle hum excites him … sending a pulsing thrill up his shaft. “Shit, I love a freak.” She tilts her head just enough to speak over her shoulder. “How about Fuck this freak instead.”

He kneels in front of her, kissing her roughly as he stuffs three fingers inside her, stoking her juices as his tongue plays against hers. “Hold them still, I’ll ride them. Kiss me harder.” She winds against his soaked fingers. Her thrusts send his fingers deep into her, triggering soft moans of his name. “Fuck this, I need to be in you!” His desire peaked, he doesn’t waste any more time.

The sound of his belt hitting the floor immediately sends a thrill through her center, her climax building again. Within seconds, Robin is positioned behind her, detaching her wrist restraints from her ankles, then reaching over her thigh … pressing against her clit pinched between his fingers as he drives himself into her.

Exhaling deeply, he latches onto her neck, feeling the urge to shout from the intensity of feeling her surrounding him tightly. The vibration causes them both to grind, movement hardly noticeable, but involuntary. She leans her head back against his shoulder, and he instantly kisses her.

His tongue moves in time with his deep strokes, which are gentle at first allowing her to adjust to him fully. It isn’t long before he grips her forearm, stabilizing himself as he leans back to maximize his thrust. Her release evident as it coats him, causing him to still momentarily to feel every drop… quickly recovering, fucking her hard to bring them both to completion mindblowingly hard… Moaning together loudly before they realize volume.

Gradually falling from her high, she hears Robin explain their past indifference…

“I pushed you away because … I was scared. Never in my life had someone so earnestly tried to be my friend. I was bitter because ‘bitter’ was all I knew how to be. And I’m sorry for that- I really am.” “It isn’t too late, you know.”

“So, are you expecting us to be “friends with benefits” after this?” She smiles, tilting her head… “Robin?” He smirks, expecting her to say the magic words… “I’m going to need that video footage… Did you really think that I didn’t know you were filming this? And untie me!”

He laughs, running his hand over his scruffy beard, then through the right side of his hair… his ‘tell’ that he has indeed been caught. Quickly dressing, he removes the thumb drive, handing it over. “You have it, so… what are you gonna do for me?”

She hands him a thumb drive of her own… “I think that you will find Sam’s latest departmental projections quite interesting… It’s on you what you choose to do with this information …”

Making their way hurriedly to check on the boys, they find them still fast asleep. “Help me get the boys in the car? We have a flight to catch … “

“Does Sam know about this… flight?”

“Fuck Sam!”

“If this drive contains what I think it does … consider him fucked !”

Within an hour, the three Daltons are airborne, sound asleep as they make their way to Cordonia… But Dahlia wakes suddenly, feeling more guilt now than anger… “How could he? How could I? Does our marriage really mean this little to both of us? Dammit Sam… of all people, why Jenny? Hypocrite! Did you not just fuck Robin?” …

She places one final call, “I’m calling in that one-time home visit. I should be there before dinner. Thanks, Van… I screwed up big time… I left Sam!” As she places her phone on the nightstand, memories of her wedding filter to mind… and the tears start once more...

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 1: Logince

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 1: Your soulmate’s name is on your wrist.

Content: Flower/Tattoo Shop AU, background character death (unspecified cause, none of the sides), that’s pretty much it, it’s just soft Logince.

Word count: 2.7k

A small ding from the store entrance pulled Roman out of his thoughts, and he groaned softly. It was nearing the end of his shift, almost closing time, and another customer at this time would probably mean he was staying after hours again. All he wanted to do was go home and watch cheap reality TV in his sweatpants while shoveling handfuls of hot cheetos into his mouth. So sue him, it had been a long day. But nooo. Someone else had just walked in, probably someone with a very specific style that was out of season and they would argue for half an hour, no matter how many times he explained that tulips aren’t blooming right now, Vanessa! 

Sure, usually his customers were great. Nervous first anniversaries, eccentric brides, all that romance stuff. He loved it. And they were usually all too willing to give him a budget and a color scheme and let him go wild, which was the best part about his job. He was good at it, too. His boss had seen his eye for style and almost immediately gave him solo shifts, which meant decently good pay and hours alone to belt out songs amongst the flowers and daydream to his heart’s content. It was a small enough business that the only mandatory part of his outfit was a green apron, so he could wear whatever he wanted, and he didn’t need a pesky nametag. Those had always weirded him out just a bit. So yeah, he loved his job, but right now, he knew himself too well. He had awful luck. 

With a forced customer service grin, he poked out of the backroom and began his usual spiel of, “Thanks for coming to The Rainbow Bouquet, what can I get started…” 

His words died in his throat at the mere sight of the man before him. Never had he been so equally attracted and frightened at the same time.

He was tall, probably just taller than him, but he held himself in a way that made Roman feel miniscule. Both arms were covered in tattoo sleeves, the left one a flurried mix of black and white and color, beautiful strips of pink and blue galaxies blending with grayscale skulls and clocks. The other had more order; shadows of a forest growing from around his wrist, shimmering mist curling up over his bicep and ending with a full moon stamped on his shoulder like a crest. A corner of something peaked up around the collar of his torn vest, and if Roman had to guess, there were most likely plenty more tattoos that were covered by his ripped black jeans and blue Nasa shirt. Not that his mind was going there at all, no siree. 

Once Roman’s brain had screeched to a halt back in his body, he spoke again.

“What can I get started for you today?”

The man swallowed with difficulty, taking in the rows and rows of flowers surrounding him. He definitely didn’t look in his element.

“I need an arrangement for my mother. She’s in the hospital.”

Ah, the part of the job that Roman didn’t enjoy. Probably half the orders that came in were for sick people or funerals, and those were always a lot harder to arrange. It was always hard to find joy in creating for something so dismal.

“I’m sorry to hear. Did you have anything specific in mind? Does she have a favorite flower?”

“Daisies. She likes Daisies,” He murmured, still admiring the space around him. Roman couldn’t help but smile at the man’s expression. It was just a little awe inspired, a little bit of childish wonder, under that rough exterior. It was a gorgeous shop, that’s one of the reasons Roman had started working there.

“That’s good, it makes it a little easier for me to design something when I have that to go off of. Do you have a budget, or…”

He shook his head weakly, finally turning to look at Roman. “Price isn’t an issue. This is one of the last things I’m going to be able to give her.”

“Oh,” Roman whispered, slowly putting down the pen he’d been writing with, “I’m so sorry.”

“It can’t be changed. There’s no point in losing sleep over it.”

“Just because it’s going to happen doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You’re allowed to be sad about it.”

The man narrowed his eyes, giving Roman a once over before lifting his chin slightly. “I don’t need advice from a stranger.”

“Of course you don’t,” Roman quickly corrected, remembering he was still at work, “My apologies. When did you want to pick it up?”

“I’m visiting her tomorrow at noon. Could it be ready by then?”

“You bet. Can I have a name for the pick up?”

“Logan.” Roman’s pen skittered over his notepad, almost falling through his fingers. 

Having a common name on your wrist was a curse in and of itself. And poor him, the hopeless romantic that he was, had met countless “Logan’s” in his day, and consequently fallen for most of them at first introduction, only to figure out quickly that they weren’t destined for a “Roman”. As inconspicuously as possible, he tried to glance down at Logan’s wrist, only finding a mass of swirling tattoos covering his skin. Dammit. There were some people born without soulmates, or had their soulmark fade to nothingness when their person passed away, and he tried not to think too terribly hard on which one Logan was. He tampered his rush of excitement as quickly as it had arisen and turned back to his notes, ignoring Logan’s raised eyebrow at his sudden stop.

Roman scribbled down the name and phone number as it was given, setting down the notepad with a customer service smile. The man spent no time dawdling, immediately starting towards the door, only to hesitate before walking out.

“Her favorite color is yellow.”

Roman nodded, the fake smile slowly morphing into an authentic one. “I can work with that.”

It was now a week after Logan had picked up the bouquet, a somewhat awkward interaction filled with small compliments towards the arrangement and Roman nearly dropping the flowers as their fingers touched while passing it over. As he was ringing up the total, he’d been able to uphold a brief conversation where Logan revealed he was a tattoo artist (no shock, considering he showed more inked skin than plain), and Roman showed off his rose tattoo on his upper arm. It would have been fine if the conversation ended there, but no, Logan had to reach up tentatively to brush his finger along the edge of the piece, commenting off handedly about how the color had started to fade.

“How long ago did you get this done?”

“Probably ten years, give or take.”

“You’re what, mid twenties? There’s no way you were legal ten years ago.”

“Who said I was?” It was said with a small wink that made Logan pull his hand away, an action that immediately dampened Roman’s mood.

“If you ever want it touched up, come by the shop. It’s just down the road.”

Roman had promised to consider, pulling the collar of his long sleeve shirt back up over the rose and bidding the man a good visit to his mother. Even now, a full week later, he couldn’t help his thoughts that were so centered around the tattoo artist. So maybe that was why Logan walked back into the shop the following Wednesday. I simped so hard I summoned him, Roman thought weakly as the gorgeous man strode straight up to the counter, leaning on it like he owned it. 

“I have a question.”

“What’s your question?  

“A client asked me yesterday to design a tattoo for her. A bouquet, seen from the top, and all she specified was it should feature hydrangeas, and she asked me to, quote, ‘go nuts’.”

“This isn’t sounding like a question so far.”

Logan sighed apprehensively, adjusting his glasses, “I was hoping you could give me some ideas on how to start. All the tips I found online contradicted each other in some way or another, and the arrangement you created for my mother was so well done…”

He trailed off, giving Roman a look that clearly said I need your help but don’t make me ask for it. Chuckling slightly, he leaned onto the counter as well, his face inches away from Logan’s. For the first time, he could see the small piercing on the man’s tongue as he sighed again. God, that’s hot.

“I’ll help you. On one condition.” 

“Being?” 

“Help me design my next tattoo.” In full honesty, he hadn’t even considered a second tattoo until that second. 

“Deal.” There was no hesitation in his answer, and he took Roman’s offered hand, barely shaking it in the small space between them. 

“Alright!” Roman pulled back, satisfied but disappointed as their hands separated, “Let’s talk flowers!”

And talk they did. For hours, in fact. It started with Logan’s tattoo dilemma, and Roman’s skillful eye and creative mind solved that problem in a flash, crudely drawing out a bouquet idea that fit all the criteria. The tattoo artist took it from there, using the notepad paper and Roman’s sketch, along with a quick round of the shop to see what the recommended flowers, fillers, and greens would all look like, and drew out a detailed piece that put Roman’s own art talent to shame. After explaining that his shift was done at the parlor and he had the rest of the afternoon free, Roman invited Logan to stay for a while longer, seeing as his day had dragged on customer-less so far, and he was bored. Plus, now was as good a time as any to pay back the favor. Two mugs of breakroom coffee later, the two were huddled around the counter, Roman describing his ideas and Logan sketching them like there was no tomorrow. Maybe half way through the brainstorm, the conversation switched to Logan’s mother (which he talked about hesitantly), then to Roman’s family, slowly changing to the absurdity of satin couch cushions, then to their favorite foods, and finally ending with a loud debate on whether pineapple deserved to be on pizza.

“It’s a fruit, Logan! Why the hell would you put fruit on a pizza?!”

“All I’m saying is that the sweet flavor of the pineapple balances out the tanginess of the marinara sauce, and adds more to the plain crust!”

“That doesn’t make it right!”

Logan had to go soon after that, wanting to visit his mom before visiting hours ended. He left with a begrudging smile on his face and a promise to come back another day, drawing an ear to ear grin from Roman. He’s just a friend, he reprimanded himself sternly, all the while sliding the drawing of his next possible tattoo into his phone case with startling reverence. No use getting attached to some who wasn’t his soulmate. 

Yet, he still couldn’t help but feel saddened as a week passed again, then two, then a month. His job had returned to it’s boring normalcy, with only the flowers and no cute boy to keep him company. Even when he sat at his little desk next to the counter, hands working effortlessly to string together order after order, he couldn’t help the occasional glance at the door. The hope that his prince charming would waltz back in, piercings and ripped clothing galore, never faded. 

A month and a half later, the little chime above the door dinged, and Roman glanced up from his handful of Baby’s Breath (seriously people, there are other fillers). Immediately a huge smile pulled at his lips and he dropped the half finished bouquet onto his table.

“Logan! What took you so… long…” His expression morphed into one of worry as he took in the other’s appearance. Gone was the usual grunge attire he was so prone to wearing, replaced with a black hoodie and beaten up Vans. His eyes no longer held that dangerous glimmer that had intimidated Roman so much when they first met. He just looked… small. Logan had never looked small before.

“My mom died last month,” He whispered.

Roman was over the desk in a second, pulling the man into his arms before he could protest. It took Logan a second, a long, awkward, stiff second, before he let his arms wrap around his waist, allowing his forehead to rest on the florist’s shoulder. 

“I thought I’d be okay when she died… it was inevitable. It was her time… so why does it still hurt so bad?” The desperate whisper shattered Roman’s heart. 

“You’re allowed to feel sad, Logan.” He felt him merely shake his head in response, but he said nothing to push the topic further. 

Logan didn’t cry as they stood there, though he clung to Roman almost desperately. If he had to guess, the poor man was probably already cried out. He looked exhausted, and his unusually slumped posture only weakened more when Roman tightened his arms ever so slightly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. You were probably waiting.”

“Hey, no apologizing.”

“I just… didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“So what changed your mind?”

Logan shrugged, still not pulling away, “I couldn’t seem to snap myself out of it. And I needed someone who wouldn’t laugh at me. If our few interactions were anything to go by, you were that person.”

Roman decided to ignore the blatant implication that Logan didn’t have anyone except a practical stranger to go to. They could talk about that later, if he decided to stay for a while. Roman really hoped he did. 

When the tattoo artist finally pulled out of the hug, many minutes later, he pushed his sweater paws under his glasses to scrub at his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t cried, but he sure was close to it. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I don’t even know your name, and I-”

“It’s okay, stop-” Roman reeled back slightly, eyebrows shooting into his hairline, “Oh… sweet Zac Efron. I never told you my name! Why didn’t you say anything?!” 

“It felt too late to ask,” Logan smirked subtly despite himself, letting his hands fall back to his side.

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

“I am none of those things.”

Roman sighed in soft exasperation, smiling at the barely perceivable glimmer in the other’s eyes. Ah, there it is. “My name’s Roman. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.”

He was instantly concerned with the way Logan’s face fell into one of total shock. Shit, what did he do wrong? The fear was quickly replaced with understanding, however, as the artist’s hand drifted to his right wrist. 

“What are the chances that your wrist says my name on it?” Logan said it like he was scared to be hopeful, like a happy ending was just not imaginable for him. Roman couldn’t comprehend all the emotions he felt at one time; elation, shock, fear. He answered in a choked voice, smiling all the while. 

“One hundred percent.”

The both upturned their arms in near harmony, Roman pulling his gardening glove down to reveal the name. He squinted at Logan’s wrist, finally noticing the small writing that just barely stood out underneath a grayscale (anatomically correct) heart. No wonder he missed it before, it almost blended in with the outline. 

And then Logan did cry, but so did Roman, so it was a little more okay. He seemed more confused than anything as Roman pulled him back in, holding him even tighter than before.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so unused to… well, feeling. I’m not usually like this, I believe I’m just sleep deprived and worn out from-”

“You never, ever need to be guilty for feeling, you absolute punk stereotype.” Roman pressed a long kiss to the other’s temple, letting him unwind in his arms. “We’ll work on that together. I promise.”

A muffled affirmative hum was all he got in response. He pressed another kiss to the top of Logan’s head as his crying slowed, breathing out heavily into the man’s hair. Together. That’s all that mattered.  

Peep this gorgeous art piece for this fic

[candywife333]

There’s Never A Right Time

This story is inspired by Say Goodbye by Chris Brown. I was in my feels and had a nice dramatic set of ideas that made me feel like writing angst. It’s a one shot because I have commitment issues with finishing my fanfics in case you guys haven't noticed.  It will be a pretty long fanfic. Here is the teaser. Hope you guys enjoy! 

Summary: 

Jungkook hadn’t thought about the woman he had left for a long time. He had gotten secretly married to her and all it took was a shadow of distrust to make him abandon her. If the world questioned the sanctity of her character, then the world had to be right. Right? He hoped he was right at least. Because if he wasn’t , he had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him in his life. As he continued to work as a top idol, artist, and entrepreneur time went by. He had other women but they never lasted long in his life. When he attended an award show with the rest of the members, he saw a girl there. Another artist. Definitely someone he knew he had never seen or heard of before. Who was she? Something about her was familiar. Maybe her eyes. And then it struck him, making him go as cold as a corpse. He had seen those same eyes somewhere else alright, in the mirror when he looked at his own reflection every morning. 

TEASER

The lady stood in front of him and the other members. She exuded a powerful aura, regal and dignified. These qualities were rather an unusual combination for idols, especially Korean idols so he was a little starstruck. Something that was rather unusual for any member of BTS to feel. She couldn't have been more than 18 years old though based on her appearance. The girl must be mixed race because she had very unconventional features for an idol. She had dark thick curly black hair that trailed to her hips and her skin reminded him of strongly brewed milk tea. The even more startling features were her plush lips, a prominent straight nose graced by a diamond stud, and double lidded eyes fringed with what seemed to be thick eyelashes. 

She was sporting an unusual outfit as well; a customized skirt and bra set that he only saw gypsies and belly dancers wear. A gold belt adorned her waist sitting lower on her hips with a diamond belly piercing highlighting her lithe , toned figure. He couldn't stop looking at her because strangely enough something about her was familiar. 

He made eye contact with her accidentally and what he saw made his heart palpate against his chest. He had seen those same eyes every day of his life in his mirror. Her doe eyes were too similar to his own. They say that eyes are a mirror to the soul, but her eyes were a mirror to his own. 

Who was she? He felt a stir of panic as their eyes met and she bowed down low. She was of average height, but her presence seemed to envelope the room since other well known artists,  idols, and staff greeted her politely. The stage director came near her bowing. To Jungkook’s surprise , she spoke in fluent Korean though she seemed to be a foreign artist. 

The stage director and the girl were a few feet away from BTS when the stage director exclaimed , “How is your mother doing Cha-ya? She must be worried since you have only promoted up til now in the US, Thailand, and India. Are you having a comfortable time adjusting over here?”

The girl’s eyes lit up in glee as she responded with a little chuckle, “It has for sure been a different experience than the U.S. and India for sure. The stage is so organized and everything is so close by for promotions. I am enjoying it to the max. Mom told me to eat well and sleep 8 hours a day. You know how doctors are like. She’s constantly checking in on me to see if I am stressed out. Saiyan and Arang are also being such worrywarts since this is the first time I’ve been here.”

The stage director continued in mild surprise, “Are they your brothers? I thought you were an only child ?” 

She guffawed in a cacophonous fashion which made several idols and artists look her way, in awe and confusion. Jungkook thought that she was a rather different type of artist. Very uninhibited by social norms. Clearly she had not been brought up in Korea. 

“Director, we are actually triplets but both of them were born a few minutes ahead of me so they insist that they are my older brothers. We are very tight knit and they will be coming to visit soon. Saiyan is a pretty popular model right now and so he will be finishing his Engineering degree at Washington State and rush over here for Seoul fashion week. Arang on the other hand finished his MBA/Medicine dual degree, so he will be managing a chain of Health and Wellness Resorts over here. “

The director’s jaw slid open in an exclamation. He sputtered in disbelief, “ How are all of your siblings so well studied and managing jobs like that? You must be the only sibling purely in entertainment.” The girl deliberated for a second before responding, “Mom made sure we all had solid educations before pursuing these types of careers. She is always skeptical of fame, and she brought us up to be extremely disciplined, stable, and loyal individuals. I am actually finished with my course in Law (focus in international law) ,but currently all that is stalled for the time being because of my activities in entertainment.”

As Jungkook was hearing this conversation along with the other artists in the room who were curiously eavesdropping as well, the Director continued in awe, “Your mother seems to be an extremely strong lady. I knew she was a doctor  who seemed extremely rich and well off, but she must literally be a goddess to give birth to such high achieving kids. What about your father, what does he do?” 

Cha-ya scoffed with a quizzical, somewhat bitter look, “He actually left her before we were even born. We found out who he was when we all finished college. Our mother made sure our upbringing was never lacking. We saw him a lot on the Korean and world news growing up but never knew that he was our dad. You know,  he is someone whose popularity never fades strangely enough. He sold his soul for fame, so it is to be expected perhaps.” The director looked so intrigued and invested as he prodded for more info, “ Who is he? Definitely we would know who he is? Is he a singer, actor, businessman in the industry over here?” 

Cha-ya’s entire expression became rigid and mask-like as she replied in what seemed to be a disinterested tone, “ We do not consider him our dad, so neither my brothers, nor I would like to claim him. He was a sperm donor. That is the long and short of it. Who he is, is as irrelevant as what today’s weather forecast is. He betrayed my mother and trusted the world over her. She went through so much pain just to be by his side. And when she thought the pain would end, he left her. I have to be on stage, so if you will excuse me now Sir.”

 She side stepped the director and went closer to the entrance of the main stage. Jungkook could feel the bile and vomit rising to his mouth. She had been pregnant when he had left her? He had three kids, that he never knew anything about? This grown beautiful artist was his daughter?And he had two more accomplished sons?  His parents had grandkids? And how the hell did she brith triplets?!! Wouldn’t her vagina tear ??????!!!

 His world was crashing down on him as the rest of BTS stared at him with stark grief painted across their faces. They all remembered her name, it was unforgettable.

Before he could process anything, he heard the booming noise starting up on the stage. Wait, wait up a minute! This track was the most popular pop/ rock release of the year all over the US. He saw his daughter he never knew he had on stage in an elaborate headdress dancing with precision and fluidity on stage. She had no backing track, the other idols could tell. This was live. Only one artist sang with no backing track in all her performances this year in the US. She was on MTV and all other award shows, becoming sensational, l hitting all headlines for singing with no backing track usually acapella . Shadow, that was her romanized name, but in all Asian countries she went by Nee-Da. 

She had risen to the top for the past 3 years for her herculanean work ethic , creative marketing/business acumen. She was known for her cutthroat ruthlessness in the music industry, mostly aided by the fact that her mother was known to own and manage the world’s most innovative new security system, Poison. He did not know what to be more shocked about at this point? How could he not have recognized her? Seeing her in real life was different from seeing her on stage with all the makeup and ornamentation on. 

She was the pop-star of the era, a business mogul with a net worth of close to 300 million dollars at such a young age due to her clothing and makeup line. She was his daughter. How could this even be possible? Jungkook could feel his identity crisis coming. How did he birth the most iconic popstar of this generation, who as of now hated his guts? What scared him even more was the realization of who her mother was.

The lady he had left, the woman he could never forget even in his dreams was her mother. And her mother owned the world’s scariest personal security company, Poison. The company had revolutionized personal security by founding a bracelet and many other gadgets that created magnetic repellant force fields around individuals. It was notorious for being marketed only towards woman and could only be activated when the device recognized the XX chromosome, so the device would never protect men. 

Basically, women all around the world who had these devices now had a programmable magnetic forcefield around them which shielded them from the outside world. Firearms, Tasers, and aggressors were all repelled by this technology. Women could safely walk out in the middle of the night as long as they had a device, which was continuously made affordable at its very inception by the reclusive owner of the company. 

With this  technology ,the owner instantly became the most powerful business woman, icon, feminist, that the world knew. That is in fact all the world knew. That she was a woman. But nobody knew anything else about her, she was an elusive person who didn't show up to most media events. Her personal motto was that the products advocated for themselves. Her financial officers and other company higher ups showed up in the media, but she never did. Most people in the world didn't even know how this woman looked like, because of how reclusive she was. 

All people knew was that she was Cha-ya’s mother and that she had two other kids. 

What Jungkook got to know that made him almost go into a stroke was the sheer fact that Cha-ya’s mom was his Y/N. The one whose heart he had broken years ago. 

Y/N was a billionaire of gargantuan proportions, a net worth that made his look like chump change.  His daughter was the iconic popstar of the century, someone whose craze and popularity surpassed his own in his heyday. Which meant that his son Saiyan was the new model who had just walk in Paris Fashion Week as the face of Armani. The same one that Jimin’s daughter had raved about the other day. Which meant that his son Arang became the CEO of the exclusive wellness resort, Ellysium , a resort only catered to the richest of the richest. All this calculations overwhelmed Jungkook to the point that there was only one reasonable outcome. He fainted. 

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 4

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 11.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: canon typical violence, canon divergence, flashback of past character death (OCs), cannibalism, detailed gore, sexual innuendos, suggestion of rape, reference to past child death, torture (dismemberment), Negan being Negan, probably badly written Negan, mention of a broken ankle?

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah, like I warned last chapter, I got a little carried away with this chapter. Negan is so fucking hard to write, so warning you for that as well. I loved this chapter though. And, uh, a lot of trigger warnings. Enjoy!

(Y/N) sighed, looking into her bag. Her supplies were running dangerously low - only two cans and half a water bottle, not to mention the nonexistent ammo. She wouldn't be able to stay out here much longer. But paranoia crept into her, as it had done regularly since that night, and kept her in place. Trusting people was damn near impossible. Being in a group, in a community, a camp? It was terrifying. Unless she was truly desperate, and only then, would there be the smallest slither of a chance of it happening. Maybe she would be better just moving on. Staying alone. She was safer alone.

"Don't be stupid, woman, ya barely standin'." She could practically hear Daryl's voice in her ear, and her head snapped to the side just to check. But she was met with empty, open-air, and her heart sank a little bit, despite knowing he wasn't there. (Y/N) let out a huff, a mix of frustration and sadness, and looked back to the clearing in the bushes where she was watching Terminus. Goddamn it, even when he wasn't there, he was always right. She was going to get herself killed. There was a herd on the way, so it wouldn't hurt to stay a couple days right? Restock, sleep, and then get on the road again before the herd hit. They'd destroy that place anyway.

(Y/N) watched with hardened eyes as the fencing was pulled open, fixed on the men behind it. He had a smile on his face and open hands but his eyes gave him away. There was something menacing behind them. She wasn't sure she wanted to find out what that was. Just a few days.

"Hello there! My name is Gareth, I'm kind of the leader around here. Welcome to Terminus," Gareth greeted, striding forward, much quicker than (Y/N) had liked. She stepped back in response, narrowing her eyes cautiously.

"(Y/N)," She responded after a long pause. Hell, the longer she spent alone, the more she was sounding like her husband. Gareth's eyes flittered to her dirty, bloodied face; to the gun, she held in a vice-like grip; to her furrowed eyebrows; to the way she swayed lightly in exhaustion.

"Well, we're glad to have you. Before you come in, though, I need you to put your weapons on the ground. All of them. Just so we have no surprises," He replied. (Y/N) glanced down to the gun, still with the safety off and hesitated. Gareth waited patiently, much to her odd annoyance. Eventually, she gave a small nod, watching as relief flooded his features. There was something off about him. What was he hiding? She didn't trust him. Not that that meant much anymore. Down the gun went, along with the knife from her belt, still covered in walker blood, and the small handgun she kept clipped to her bag. Gareth came towards her, slowly this time, like someone approaching a scared pet. "I'm just going to pat you down now. Just our policy."

Much to (Y/N)'s relief, he kept professional as he patted along her arms, down her torso and legs and back up again. He was giving her that fake gentle smile. That only made her stiffen and the leader was quick to back off when he was done. He was trying to earn her trust. A nagging voice in the back of her head kept asking why what was he up to? (Y/N) tried to shake the suspicion as she bent down to pick her weapons back up.

"C'mon in," Gareth gestured to the gate and despite her unease, she allowed him to take her through to a small courtyard. There were a few people, maybe ten or so. Some of them were sat down on tables and little booths that were dotted around, and two people were stood next to a barbecue, where there was a blonde woman stood behind cooking. The closer they got, the stronger the smell wafting through the air did, and it made her stomach twist in a knot. She knew that smell. Why did she know that smell? The lady shot (Y/N) a warm smile as she offered her a plate of whatever it was she was cooking. But she only stared at it, a look of scepticism and partial disgust and the Terminus people exchanged a glance. Finally, the lady shrugged and handed the plate to a guy who'd come to stand behind the survivor. "You really find it hard to trust people don't you?"

"I'll be here for a day or two. I just need to rest," (Y/N) cut in sharply, readjusting the bag on her back, leaving a hand on the strap for grounding. Gareth shook his head slightly and placed his hand on his hips.

"Right this way," He breathed, growing increasingly vexed with the newcomer's dismissal. This time, she was led to what looked like a canteen, made out of an old factory (maybe? It was hard to tell), and this time she let herself sit down on a bench that had been shoved against the wall. Her bag was placed on the floor between her feet, never letting it get too far. The three pictures and a random bobby pin that she had no idea how it got there, that were folded in her back pocket were stabbing into her ass through her jeans but she didn't move. If she was going to get stolen from again, she would happily lose everything as long as she could keep those three photos. Gareth disappeared into a back room and she let her gaze slide around the room. It was barren but looked like it had been untouched by the dead. A few minutes stretched by and her knee began to bounce nervously, before he returned, holding a can of sweetcorn, top already taken off, and a glass of water. He handed it to her, and hesitantly she took it. Hell, she was starving.

(Y/N) dug in a second later, ravenous, and it would long before the can was empty. The leader was babbling on about the community and rules and all that bullshit. By god, that man could talk. She'd zoned out by now, more focused on getting fed and hydrated. She took a gulp from the glass, nearly emptying, and putting on an expression that made it seem like she was listening. Slowly, however, his words started to fade in and out, muffling and blending together. Her head felt light, and she felt like she could barely hold herself up. She felt so damn heavy. Her body fell to the side, lying on the bench. Gareth knelt down in front of her. There it was. Through her dotted vision, she could see the dark grin on his face, and a shiver ran down her spine. He'd put something in her food and water. That motherfucker.

"What the hell did-" (Y/N) started. She could hardly recognise her own voice. It was slurred and quiet, but still filled with the anger she'd hoped for. Well, if she was gonna die, he wanted her to know she was pissed about it. Gareth just stared her down, and eventually, she surrendered to the black dots. For Fuck's sake.

The faint noise of hushed chatter made (Y/N) lift her head from the floor. Shit that was a mistake. She scrunched her eyes back shut, trying to relieve her pounding headache. Slowly, she let herself open her eyes again, only to be met by the same darkness, bar a slither of light coming from under, what she assumed to be, a door. Everything fucking hurt, but she still pushed herself up, shuffling until she met a wall, to get grounding. The room couldn't have been very big, a storeroom or something? Well, at the very least, she knew she could trust her instincts. She saw something suspicious in Gareth and the motherfucker had drugged her. Asshole. The next question was, why the fuck had he drugged her? As if the people outside could read her mind, the door slammed open, flooding the room in sunlight, which made (Y/N) shut her eyes. Fuck that headache was killing her. Whoever had opened the door gripped her arm, jerking her out of the room across the rough ground and tearing her skin slightly. That was gonna sting later. She moved to fight back but found her wrists tied by course rope. How hadn't she noticed that? Probably the headache, damn it. When her eyes adjusted, they raised to glare at the person. Gareth. Of fucking course.

"Hey asshole," She quipped, giving him a sarcastic smile and he smiled, though there was no kindness in it. She heard him mumble something about being a smart ass before he lifted a bit of cloth from around her neck (when had that gotten there? Stupid drug side effects) she was tugged to her feet and shoved forward. (Y/N) had no idea where she was going, but the faces of the Terminus people read glad and... hungry? They had plenty of food in that pantry, more than (Y/n) had seen in a long time, why would they be hungry?

It wasn't long before her surroundings became gloomy and darkened as Gareth took her into another old looking warehouse. The corridor opened up to a large room, with different kinds of tools littering the walls and various tools, along with a long trough in the centre of the room. Oh fuck, oh no. Oh no no no. She'd been hunting with Daryl and Merle enough times to know exactly what this fucking meant. She was NOT going out like this, no fucking way. And definitely not without a damn fight She squirmed in his grip, launching her leg backwards to try and kick him, but Gareth managed to jump back just in time. He twisted her arm slightly in return and she released a grunt of pain, but didn't let up, turning, bending, kicking, just moving as much as she possibly could, shouting out, trying to backpedal. Anything to get away from that trough. There were two guys in the corner, bouncing on their heels and shuffling, clearly waiting for Gareth to ask them to step in.

"Stop, fucking stop," Gareth growled in her ear, pushing her forward even more, despite her struggling. She was getting closer, and closer and closer and she was running out of options. This was gonna hurt like a bitch. Better than getting eaten. With a deep breath, she threw her head back, smashing into his nose. Shit, shit, shit she was right that fucking hurt. Instinctively, he let go, swearing violently and she made a mad dash for the door. The likelihood of her actually getting anywhere, especially with tied hands and goons around every corner but hell if they thought she was gonna just lay down and let them kill her, they were wrong. She raced back down the route Gareth had just taken her, and she soon heard three sets of footsteps behind her. She managed to get outside, back to the courtyard she'd been in hours (maybe? she didn't really know how long she was out) earlier, before one of the men who'd been in the slaughter room tackled her to the floor. Well, there went another layer of her skin on the ground. Ow. Over the slight ringing in her ears (Y/N) could hear slightly panicked muttering from the small crowd in the courtyard. Gareth came over seconds later, towering over her, and she grinned at him upon seeing his bloodied nose and the drips of blood on the collar of his shirt. He gripped her shirt harshly and pulled her up and hurriedly pushed her towards the small storeroom she'd been in minutes earlier.

"What? Don't have the balls to try and kill me again?" She asked through the gag, which Gareth pulled down before shoving her down to the floor. He stood in the doorway, glaring down at her with a wild look in his eye. He crouched in front of her, and despite the fear snaking into her, she kept his gaze, smirking slightly.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll kill you. But, you see, we have some newcomers, who we've yet to break the news of how things work here. We don't need you scaring them off. You can stay here for a few days, let things calm down and then..." He trailed off and ran a finger along her cheek. (Y/N) moved her head away, sneering at him.

"And what happens if your new people don't agree with the way you run things? I mean, eating people? You're not that different from the snarlers," She asked, her voice slightly hoarse, but still full of venom. There was that flash of amusement on his face and he leant forward, right in her face. She narrowed her eyes, resisting the urge to smash her head into his nose again. That headache was still hammering behind her eyes and Jesus, it still hurt.

"If they don't agree, you can have some buddies joining you, and you can help the rest of us out," Okay that was just a weirdly cryptic way of saying they'd get eaten too. The leader was still too close for comfort, and she just looked at him, before spitting and narrowly missing his eyes. He snarled and stood up before slamming the door shut behind him and flooding the room with semi-darkness. Fantastic.

The only way (Y/N) was measuring time was the light underneath the door. It'd been around three days, and her arms had started cramping just hours after Gareth had shoved her back in that shithole. Thankfully, around halfway through day two, someone had come and untied her, only so she could eat, but her arms still felt tender. They fed her, and while most of it had expired, it was more than she'd eaten in weeks, and it made her the strongest she'd been in a while. The smell of her own vomit had made her nose numb, and honestly, she couldn't wait to get out even if it meant her becoming dinner. In the darkness and mostly silent room, she had nothing to do, other than getting lost in her thoughts. It was the only thing stopping her from going crazy.

"You're telling me that Merle got you this?" (Y/N) asked, about three years younger, looking back to an also younger Daryl. The pair were stepping through dead leaves, and moving past bushes. He looked over, moving his significantly shorter hair off his forehead.

"Ya really surprised by that?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows. He felt naked without his crossbow, but his girl was holding it tightly, he knew it was in good hands. She laughed quietly, as he led them to the makeshift target range he'd set up the day before.

"Don't really know why I'm surprised by it," She replied, moving slightly closer, and looking down at the crossbow. Her eyes were bright and full of excitement. (Y/N) had been begging her boyfriend for months to teach her to use the crossbow, or at the very least hunting. Not because she was actually particularly interested in it, but because it was such a big part of his and Merle's life. And when Daryl had learnt that, he damn near melted. Stupid, affectionate woman, she remembered him saying, despite the faint blush on his face. "Y'know my mom's been pestering me about getting you to teach her how to use this thing as soon as she found out you used a crossbow."

Daryl glanced over to her, his lips twitched upwards and shook his head. Her mom, Lily, was so sweet on him, and he wasn't quite sure why. However, it was clear that she hadn't been swayed by Merle yet. Couldn't exactly blame her though. His brother was an asshole at the best of times.

"She still movin' to South Carolina?" (Y/N) and Daryl kept walking, but he used a hand on her back to direct her more to the left. She nodded with a small grin but didn't say anything. They walked in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances when the other wasn't looking before they reached their destination. There were various little targets, ranging between small empty bottles and bags full of rice or hay. Daryl took her into a small box on the floor made out of twigs so that there were bigger targets closer to her and smaller targets further away. He started explaining how to pull the string back to the latch, showing her and then letting her do it herself.

(Y/N) brought the crossbow up to rest near her shoulder, closing one eye to look down the arrow track as Daryl had instructed her.

"Merle ever show ya how to use a rifle?" Daryl inquired. He was stood right behind her, so her back was nearly pressed to his chest, and his head was hovering over her other shoulder.

"Would it be Merle if he hadn't?" (Y/N) shot back with a playful smirk and he just chuckled, reaching around and adjusting her grip on the crossbow. He placed his hands over hers, and he could already tell she'd be teasing him about it later, especially if she saw him blushing. Well, if she saw him, he could shoot back that she was blushing too. Win-win, he supposed

"Ya don't damn act like it. Y'ain't even holdin' it right," Daryl returned, but it was light and he wouldn't deny the grin on his face if she said anything. (Y/N) tightened her grip, finding comfort in his hands over hers, keeping her eye on the arrow track. "Now, ya gotta line up the bolt and the arrow track, and when ya think ya got it, ya pull the trigger."

(Y/N) couldn't deny how at home he seemed out there, in the wilderness, with his crossbow. He was content, as content as a Dixon could be at one time, and the way he hovered around her made her fight back a smile. The asshole was just adorable and he didn't realise it.

He watched as her eyebrows scrunched more in concentration, and he felt himself soften when she stuck her tongue out slightly. Fucking hell, she was gonna make his mean redneck facade crack. Not like it mattered, there wasn't anyone around.

With a deep breath, (Y/N) lined up the arrow track with one of the rice-filled bags closer to the box, and pulled the trigger. The bolt went flying out, and the string lurched forward, making her jump and Daryl let out a loud laugh at the movement. The bolt stabbed into the floor right beside the bag and she let out a huff.

"That's pretty good for a first try. I want ya to try and hit one of the bottles. Don't matter if ya miss," He said, short hair sticking to his forehead in the Georgia heat while he moved from behind her to go and retrieve the bolt. As he was getting the bolt, (Y/N) pulled the string back, so when he returned she slid the bolt along the arrow track. She stood back up, and Daryl returned to his place behind her. A few seconds later, the bolt whistled through the air, and once again narrowly missed the bottle. But she felt pride blooming in her chest. It was further away, after all! She turned to her boyfriend with an excited grin, happiness seeping from her and Daryl couldn't help but smile back at her.

They continued like this for a few hours, until (Y/N) arms started to hurt from holding the crossbow up, and they started heading back. She was trailing ahead of Daryl, back in that comfortable, and very frequent, silence. He had to admit, she was pretty damn good. Her aim wasn't bad and after some practice, she'd probably be as good as him. But the excitement she'd had even when she'd missed the targets, her grin every time she got a little bit closer, made his heart feel full. If he hadn't been certain before, he definitely was now. She was it for him. He was gonna marry her someday, even if it wasn't his thing. He was gonna be with her.

The ground-shaking below her feet and an ear-splitting explosion, as well as a faint flash of bright light under the door, knocked her to her side and pushed her from her reminiscing. What the fuck? Silence stretched for a minute before panic started, and footsteps raced past the door. (Y/N) pressed herself against the door, and a second bang went off, close enough to knock some debris into her door, and send it shooting open and slamming her back. She groaned, using the wall to stand up, but she shot behind the door when she heard the all too familiar noise of snarlers. A lone snarler stumbled past her door, and she banged her hand against the wall, just quiet enough for it to only lure the one. It paused and growled, turning into the room. (Y/N) slowly bent down and picked up the bit of debris from the floor, before stepping out and slamming the debris into the snarlers head before it had time to see her. There were more coming, the explosion would have lured them for miles and miles. She had to think fast, but with only the sharp bit of debris, that would definitely break soon, she didn't have many options. Fuck. She was gonna have to cut the snarler open. Great.

With a small shiver, and a pause much longer than she probably should have risked with the oncoming storm of snarlers, she lifted the snarlers ripped shirt and brought the debris down into its stomach. Resisting the urge to vomit (god she'd never get used to that smell), she pressed on until the debris snapped and she started pulling out guts. A disgusted noise escaped her as she started spreading the guts all over her body, along her arms and legs, and, unfortunately, her face too. (Y/N) couldn't resist a shudder as the smell got caught in her nose. Jesus, she couldn't wait to find a creek or a river already and wash this shit off. At least she could go out with the snarlers now, and maybe find a weapon, and maybe her stuff. Not that she had much worth saving. She had her pictures and right now, she was just grateful for that. After giving her lungs a much-needed breath of fresh air, she walked into the sunlight, squinting in the sun, at a snail-like pace. Blend in, please for the love of fuck, please blend in. (Y/N) turned a corner, and she couldn't stop herself from hesitated. Terminus was flooded. There was no fucking chance of her getting her stuff back. She had to get out. Gunshots were filling the air, doing nothing to deter the snarlers.

However, while the snarlers hadn't noticed her, someone from Terminus clearly had. A ginger woman surged forward towards her, knife in hand. Perfect. She immediately stretched her arm out to slash at her face, but (Y/N) managed to duck under her arm and grab it, but the woman twisted and pressed it forward. It inched closer and closer to her face, and a bit too close to her eye, and (Y/N) used the grip she had on her wrist to push it back. Apparently, their strengths were matched, since they didn't move for a second. She grunted lightly, before glancing down. While she was defending her face, this woman had left her legs undefended, and she smiled at her before kicking her knee, hard. The woman went down with a cry of pain, clutching her knee and allowing the knife to clatter to the floor and (Y/N) didn't hesitate to pick it up and stab it into the woman's temple. She let out a sigh, leaning on her thighs for a minute. Christ being locked in a tiny room for a few days and launching into the fight right after wasn't a good idea. The snarlers were getting closer, and (Y/N) plucked the gun from the woman's holster and walked forward, allowing herself to fall into the herd.

She was trying to follow the herd's direction while also looking for an exit. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots and screaming surrounding her, not to mention the groaning and growling of the snarlers, and it was getting harder and harder to decipher which direction any of it was coming from. Her eyes skimmed her surroundings. There had to be an exit somewhere. Right as she thought that, she noticed a gap in the fence, like someone, had torn through it and she started trying to move towards it, as much as she could without alerting the snarlers. Despite the loud noises surrounding her, one noise that was getting easier and easier to pick out were gunshots that were getting closer and closer and the herd getting shoved into two, like a twisted version of Moses splitting the sea. A group of maybe 12-14 people were sprinting through, moving too fast for her to really see them properly, shooting and slashing as they approached the fence. (Y/N) continued on in the herd, hoping she wouldn't get caught in their rampage. It wasn't until one of them got grabbed, a little boy, and was getting pulled forward by a snarler. Some cowboy looking guy froze in his tracks, probably his dad. But he wouldn't get there in time, she knew that. And she wasn't going to have another Anna. Not again. She rushed forward, raising her gun and shooting the snarler right between its eyes. The little boy stared up at her, fear and shock still present in his eyes and her eye softened, before the father came running up. The father pulled him away immediately and stared her down like she hadn't just saved his son's life. She narrowed her eyes and yelled "go!" and thankfully, they didn't hesitate in following her instructions. But now, the snarlers knew she wasn't one of them. She had to make a break for that gap. This would be fun.

(Y/N) felt dead on her feet. She'd been walking for days, and while she was sure it was gonna kill her eventually, every day she was closer and closer to Washington. Maybe another one or two days and she'd be there. Her supplies were running short again, not that she'd found many after Terminus. Most places had been picked clean by now. There had to be something in Washington. There had to be. And while the realist part of her knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, another part of her was really hoping that Daryl would have made his way North, and be there, with his weird attachment to his crossbow, and his much too short hair, and following behind her louder than life brother-in-law, and the fiddling of his wedding band whenever he was nervous, or angry, or even just lost in thought. She hadn't really let herself think about him much since the world had gone to shit, apart from in Terminus, and it made her heart hurt. He could be dead. He could have died months ago and she was just holding out false hope. Merle could be dead.

That only reminded her of why she hadn't let herself think of her family much. (Y/N) shook her head and focused on the woods surrounding her. There was a map tucked into the side of the worn backpack she'd found two nights ago, and there were a knife and a gun strapped around her waist. Like the rest of her resources, she was running low on bullets. Maybe ten or eleven bullets left. Knife work had become common practice unless she'd gotten caught in a tight spot, which thankfully hadn't been often. But with each day and the lack of supplies, she was getting weak again, and she knew if there was nothing in Washington, she would probably die. And it was fucking terrifying. She was just thanking whatever god, or lack of, was up there that her husband had taught her to track and to navigate the woods.

Nightfall was nearing, and (Y/N) had managed to find the ruins of an old gas station. If there'd been more choice, she would have found somewhere else. It was too similar to where she'd stayed with her group near the beginning. With Kai, her mom, Andrew... But there was nowhere else, and it was safe enough, so it would have to do. It beat sleeping in a tree again. Seriously, sleeping in trees was going to destroy her back. After clearing the gas station, and trying to barricade the doors as much as possible, she opened the latch of the room, closing it behind her, and climbed onto the roof. She placed her bag down on the roof, and hesitantly lay down, using her bag as a pillow, keeping her knife and gun close. Nowadays, as it had been further proved by Terminus, it wasn't just the dead she had to worry about. After a lot of tossing, turning, rumbling of her stomach and worrying, her body finally shut down, and she let herself sleep.

Dawn was barely breaking when she was woken by the sound of brakes squealing. Fuck. People weren't something that reassured her. Not anymore By instinct, the sleep was shaken from her body and the grogginess was non-existent as she crawled back to the latch, panic starting to rise in her chest.

"You're sure it was here you saw someone from Hilltop? Boss is coming to check it out himself," An unfamiliar, and much too loud considering how many walkers were around. The door of their vehicle was slammed shut.

" I saw 'em last night. Just the one, killed a couple dead fucks and barricaded the doors. Looked tired, sick, think they ran away from Hilltop or something," Another voice replied. Oh fuck. This guy had seen her. He had to know where she was. She was gonna have to have a mad dash for freedom. Carefully, she opened the latch, making sure to drop into a crouch when she got back into the store and tiptoed towards the backroom where the least barricaded door was, only made of a relatively flimsy. metal shelf Last night, she'd been too exhausted to barricade it properly, which now she looked back was unbelievably stupid, however it was also potentially saving her life now. The two voices continued as they got closer to the storefront, and (Y/N) used the little strength she had to push the barricade out of the way and opened the door. However in her rush to escape, she hadn't noticed the bit of broken metal jutting out of the shelf, so as she pushed her body against it, it torn through the side of her leg. Red seeped down her leg, making a small pool on the floor quickly. (Y/N), you fucking idiot.

"Fuck!" She whispered. Fucking hell that hurt! She moved to try and apply pressure but the sound of glass smashing in the front of the store made her freeze. She didn't have time to stop, she had to get out of here, even if it killed her. Something about the way these people talked alone felt off. Honestly, she wasn't sure if it wasn't just her paranoia at this point, but after Terminus and that night at the camp, she wouldn't risk it. Just as she limped outside, she heard another squeal and she could only assume another vehicle had pulled up. Her bag, her body, everything felt heavy as she stumbled forward and back into the woods. She wasn't getting far, but if she could get just far enough that she could hide, maybe she'd be okay. Knowing her luck, it wasn't damn likely. (Y/N) couldn't help but be hyper-aware of the blood trail she had to be leaving behind. She managed to get a fair distance before the pain searing up her leg stopped her, and she hid inside a bush. She didn't have any other options. She heard swearing and shouting, and some snarlers getting taken down and eventually, two men came barging out the partially open back door. One of them was holding a rifle, up and ready to shoot and the other one had a revolver. Both of them looked like the perfect example of someone who could ruin (Y/N)'s day.

They were looking around, still on guard, and it was clear they were looking for snarlers until she saw a new guy on the roof where she'd been just minutes ago and called down that she wasn't there. Well hell, they were definitely looking for her now. One hand was clutching her leg, desperately trying to stop the bleeding as much as possible so she didn't bleed out, while the other gripped her gun tightly, ready to fight if she had to. She had to bite her lip to stop her from crying out as she applied more and more pressure. It wasn't deep enough to have hit a vein, and she knew if she'd hit an artery she would already be dead and eating these fuckers, but it was deep enough to not stop bleeding with a little bit of pressure. Upon hearing that (Y/N) wasn't on the roof they cursed, and pressed further on and unluckily, nearer to her bush. Rifle guy whispered to revolver guy and revolver guy went back around the building towards where she assumed the vehicles were. Maybe he was going for the boss? She watched carefully, before letting her gaze fall back to her leg, applying more pressure and she was starting to taste something metallic in her mouth as well as she bit her lip harder. Apparently, that split second was all it took for the rifle guy to creep forward right in front of her bush. It made her think that they'd known where she was all along.

There was the end of a rifle right in her face when she looked up and she couldn't stop the alarm from spilling into her eyes as they met his. This guy had a smirk on his face, looking very accomplished. The living didn't want to give him a fucking break, did they? Knowing her chances against a rifle were disadvantaged, she stood up slowly from her hiding, wincing as she put a little pressure on her leg. The barrel followed her as she rose, even as she stumbled slightly on her injured leg. The pair stared at each other in a moment of tense silence, and she tried her hardest not to let her internal panic spread to the outside, and (Y/N) scowled at him, eyes sharp and narrowed. What she was about to do was the dumbest plan she'd ever had, but with a fucked up leg and nothing to patch her up, none of her options was looking particularly great. So, she quickly raised her gun and fired, so soon he only just reacted. The bullet skimmed his head, tearing a bit of skin from the side of it, and he tackled her, his rifle falling out of either of their reach, but not before catching her face and leaving a nick on her forehead. A cry, borderline scream, escaped her as his knee fell onto her wound, but she gritted her teeth and stretched to his belt where a knife was protruding. He pulled back, but she'd just managed to grab it and turned them around so she was straddling him awkwardly, her injured leg at an angle to avoid any pressure.

(Y/N) raised the knife to stab it down into his head, seeing an angry but smug expression on his face. She couldn't help but wonder how the fuck someone in his situation could be smug, but her question was answered by the clicking of four or five, as far as she could tell, guns.

"I'd drop that if I were you," Rifle guy smirked from underneath her, and she glared but reluctantly released the knife and let it drop. He shoved her off and she let out a grunt of pain. Shit that leg was going to get infected. Her gaze raised to look at the semi-circle of men around her, along with one woman, with dark-haired and bleached tips pulled into a bun and a deadly look in her eyes. The rifle guy stood up and picked up his rifle and joined his people. A slight glimmer in the corner of her eye in the dawn sun made her look up, and there he stood in dead centre. He clutched a barbed wire wrapped bat, a glove on the hand holding it, and she had to admire his weapon. It was pretty damn cool. Baseball bat guy was wearing a white shirt, super impractical for the apocalypse she couldn't stop herself thinking, with a leather jacket on top. His hair was dark, but greying along the sides and in his scruff. And he was grinning, and while there was no malice in it, it didn't make her feel at ease by any means. If anything, it made her squirm more. His eyes raked down her body and suddenly she felt small. He was a predator, and she was the prey. Oh fuck. He whistled, almost akin to that of a wolf whistle.

"God damn lady! If that didn't make my pants tight I don't, know what will! Adam, you should be ashamed. She nearly killed you, and she was fucking injured!" Baseball guy grinned, stepping forward swinging the bat slightly. (Y/N) didn't say a word, just glared at him and she saw entertainment dancing behind his eyes. He crouched in front of her. She was starting to get really sick of egotistical men who had a little bit of power over her crouching in front of her. Fucking condescending assholes. His eyes dragged down to her wound, and he pressed two fingers to it, making her hiss.

"Go to hell," She growled, leaning towards his face. If only to prove she wasn't intimidated despite the terror in her lungs. He let out a loud laugh. But unlike the murderers at camp or Gareth, it wasn't fake or dark. It was a genuine laugh. Somehow that worried her more.

"Is that any way to talk to your saviour?" He asked with a cockiness that made her skin crawl. Her glare deepened, and he removed his hand from her wound. He wiped his bloody hand on his jeans, before using it to grip her chin. She had to resist the urge to pull her face away. This guy was more dangerous than the other asshole men she'd met. He was calm but dangerous. Like a landmine that hasn't yet gone off. One wrong move and he'd explode. After a second her eyebrows raised in question. "If I hadn't come, you would have killed Adam, not that I could blame you," He leant forward to her ear whispering the next part "He's made moves on some of my wives before. You'd be doing me a favour. However, my loyal crew here would have had to kill you. But I sent my crew and stopped you, so you get to live. You should thank me."

With that last sentence, she was suddenly back nearly two years in front of a dim campfire, with Andrew and her mom at her side. Kai's body, wide-eyed and still bleeding, was slumped in front of her, her mom's throat was slashed and she was gurgling, trying her hardest to cry out. Andrew was beside her, the ghost of a triumphant grin on his face and a bullet between his eyes.

"Really you should be thanking us."

Baseball guy was watching her with a wide grin, as she came back to reality. She was trembling, and tears were building in the corner of her eyes. God damn it.

"Should have a stony as shit lady like you had met some fucked up people. The way I see it, you're in my debt," He heaved himself up with a deep sigh, still holding the barbed wire bat, which he placed beneath her chin, the spikes cutting and pricking her skin lightly. He clicked his tongue and his eyebrows flashed up quickly. "Hell, woman, you gotta stop giving me that look. Makes me wanna take you back home and fuck you six ways to Sunday."

It took every fibre in her body to stop her from shuddering, and she already knew that when the adrenaline ran out she would be having some form of breakdown. That would be fun

"But, we can discuss that later," He said with a wink "As I was saying, you're in my debt, and you have two ways to pay it off."

"Which are?" She ground out, pressing harder on her wound. Oh, she was definitely going to pass out from blood loss soon. She was already starting to feel woozy.

"See fellas! This is what I mean when I say I want direct! Goddamn, I can tell you are gonna fit right in!" (Y/N)'s unamused look made Baseball guy laugh heartily before continuing on "You can either join us, work for me, we break you down and you become my soldier. Maybe if I'm lucky I can convince you to become a lovely wife for me," He shot her a wink and words of rejection were already building on her tongue "Or, we kill you. Right here and now and leave you for the dead fucks."

Well. She probably should have seen that coming. Men like him wanted few things, and they usually fell along the same lines. From the way he spoke, while he was brash, vulgar and clearly larger than life, he seemed to have a vague, fucked up, set of morals. While he'd talked about fucking her, he'd never suggested forcing it upon her. But she could never be too careful. (Y/N) knew if she tried to run, she wouldn't get anywhere and they'd kill her anyway. Maybe if she went with them, they would patch her up, she'd work there for a while and make an escape. Maybe this guy was just an asshole and his community wasn't bad. From the look of his crew, not likely. Once again, she had limited options. She was getting sick of being in these situations. Baseball guy was watching her, glee in his eyes. However, he was growing impatient, and she could tell when he pushed the barbed wire slightly more into her chin, tearing into her skin, that she knew she had to give him an answer. (Y/N) wasn't stupid enough to deny she was scared. If she wasn't full of so much adrenaline, she would probably be paralysed by it. But she looked up at him, as much as she could with the barbed wire pricking her chin and met his eyes.

"I'll join you."

Being in that room felt too much like Terminus. If it hadn't been for the stitches in her leg, her brain could have tricked her into thinking she was there. It was silent, more so than Terminus. At Terminus, she could at least hear people in the courtyard and walking past the door. She could keep track of time through the sunlight under the door. Here, there was nothing. No light. No noise. Nothing. She didn't know how long she'd been there. They fed her, and at least here the food wasn't expired and once in a while (once a day maybe?) some guy in a scientist coat came in to check and change her bandages. The doctor had told her that Baseball guy was called Negan, but everyone was Negan, which made no fucking sense but she was sure it would in time, and they were in 'The Sanctuary'. Narcissistic bastard. (Y/N) had a strong suspicion that he wasn't supposed to be telling her by the hushed voice he used, but she didn't reject the information. It was the most someone had talked to her in days (hours? Who fucking knew anymore). There had been six doctors visits, so maybe six days if she was right about the time frame, until they pulled her out.

Danica was still storming ahead, but Ben had fallen back to walk beside (Y/N) and Lily, who had an arm around her daughter as she worked through the shock.

"Thank you for saving our asses back there," (Y/N) mumbled quietly and Ben looked to her with a small smile. He shrugged, and turned back to his sister, keeping a careful eye on her. She was pissed, and she got reckless when she was pissed.

"Don't worry about it. Maybe you can save my ass in the future as payback," He quipped lightly, and a small giggle escaped Lily. They were deep in the woods by now, and the dim flashlights Danica and Ben were holding were the only things stopping them from being completely blind. (Y/N) smiled at him. He seemed sweet, unlike his bitchy companion.

"Maybe," She responded faintly. Milky white eyes kept flashing in front of her, guts spilling from a stomach and she shook her head viciously to remove the image. Ben's face suddenly fell, and his eyebrows furrowed as he began running towards Danica. Lily and (Y/N) followed soon after as soon as they saw Danica holding someone at gunpoint. There were four of them, one of them stood in front, wearing a military-style uniform, holding a gun and a military-grade backpack on their back. Two of them stood in front of a little girl, no older than 6 or 7. One of them had short ginger hair with thick eyebrows, looking stony and glaring at Danica. The other kept his hand hovering near the ginger guy and the other hand in front of the kid. He had long, shoulder-length green hair that was starting to fade. (Y/N) rushed to Danica's side, narrowing her eyes at the strangers.

"Hey, hey, hey, look we don't want no trouble. Just wanna get down ta Georgia," The military one said, attempting to defuse the situation, placing the gun down on the floor.

"We have a kid for fuck's sake," The ginger one snapped and (Y/N) looked to Danica. When she didn't move to put the gun away, she put a hand on her arm to get her to lower it. Danica glared daggers at her but hesitantly lowered the gun. The little kid was looking scared, but she had these big green eyes. (Y/N) was never one for kids, she and Daryl had had that discussion before, but she was cute, and she could see herself getting attached to her.

"Hey, alright, it's okay. We just had a tough time, we're all a little on edge. I'm (Y/N) Dixon, this is my mom, Lily, and these two are Danica and Ben," (Y/N) introduced trying to give them a reassuring smile. The tension in the green-haired guy's shoulders deflated slightly and the little girl moved forward a little.

"I'm Kai Thompson," The military one smiled, picking their gun back up and shoving it in their holster. "This is Andrew and Oliver Stewart, and their daughter Anna."

Lily crouched down in front of Anna giving her a little grin, as she moved from behind her dads. She extended a hand to the little girl who took it reluctantly. Her dads were watching carefully, still not trusting her entirely.

"Heya Anna, I'm Lily," She said softly, shaking her hand gently. (Y/N) folded her arms slowly, giving the group a once over, and she noticed how Ben kept his hand over his knife.

"Where y'all headed?" Kai asked, and (Y/N) could pick out that strong Georgia drawl anywhere. It only made her think of Daryl and Merle, out in the middle of nowhere, possibly dead by now. She had to get home.

"Down to Georgia, you?" Ben replied, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) could feel eyes burning into the back of her head and it didn't take a genius to figure out it was Danica.

"Us too. Meant to be a safe zone in Atlanta," Kai answered, finally dragging their eyes away from Danica. There was a look of budding trust in their eyes, and (Y/N) could tell that they were going to keep each other safe.

When the door creaked open, (Y/N) squinted at the artificial light that flooded the room. Oh, this was way too much like Terminus. A deep chuckle made it abundantly clear about who was standing in the doorway, despite her current lack of sight. As her eyes adapted, she saw him extending a hand to her to help her up.

"C'mon gorgeous, think you've spent enough time in this shithole. Much too disgusting for a lady like you," Negan smirked, and she glared back at him but took his hand. He helped her to her feet, catching her as she toppled slightly on her bad leg. She could tell he was resisting the urge to make a shitty joke about 'falling for him' and she was glad he didn't say it. If he had, she probably would have hit him and sealed her fate as dead.

"Where are we going?" (Y/N)'s throat felt like acid, as she limped beside him. He was leading her back through the corridors deep in the Sanctuary and upstairs, which took her much longer than she'd hoped. Despite how long it took her, Negan didn't lose his patience this and with him still clutching that damn bat, that she'd learnt he called Lucille, she had to be grateful. He was even helping her when he could. However, after being alone for so long, she hated herself for relying on someone else, especially someone like him.

"You've got a big test, beautiful. Gotta make sure you belong here. And I really hope you do, because I wanna pound into you at least once even if you won't marry me," Negan grinned and part of her wished she were still in that cage. Sure, she was convinced she was going crazy in there, but at least she was away from his uncouth comments.

"Not interested," (Y/N) shot back, almost immediately, narrowing her eyes. That only made Negan laugh again, helping her up a small set of stairs.

"Well, that's a damn shame. Never say never though, princess. I'm sure I can convince you," Did he ever stop talking? She knew he was trying to get under her skin, and unfortunately, he was succeeding.

"You've got other wives, fuck them instead," She snapped, sarcastically. Shit, her smart mouth was going to get her killed someday. Pick your damn battles (Y/N).

"Just cause I've got wives doesn't mean I can't mess around some, right darling?" He returned. That cocky grin didn't fall from his face, but there was danger hiding in his eyes. Stop pushing, stop pushing.

"Clearly we have different definitions of marriage," With her response, Negan's eyes darted to her ring finger and he chuckled humourlessly when he saw the silver band. Well, she had just shown her hand. Good fucking job.

"Married, huh? What a shame. Always the hottest ones that are taken. He still out there?" He asked, voice light with glee but she looked away, glaring and biting her tongue. To (Y/N)'s relief, he dropped the subject as they reached a huge room, once again looking a bit too similar to the empty warehouses of Terminus.

Negan removed his hand from hers and moved her to be leant against the metal railing. Below them most if not all of the Saviours were gathered, looking scared and confused, and there was a guy tied to a chair in the dead centre of the group. (Y/N) managed to pick out a small huddle of women, all wearing strappy black dresses and tall heels. His wives. The thought made her squeamish as she looked at the discomfort on their faces. All of a sudden, he slammed Lucille on the metal railing beside her, making her jump out of her skin. He placed a hand on her back, but she limped to the side, just out of his reach. She didn't want his filthy hands on her. Everyone's heads shot up, and they fell to one knew. What kind of cult-level shit was this?

"As all of you know, when we save someone new, when we get a new recruit... they have to prove their loyalty. You know what's about to happen, and you know it isn't going to be pretty. But we got a rule breaker in our midst and a new recruit, so why not kill two birds with one stone?" Negan started down the stairs just beside where (Y/N) was positioned, and she watched him cautiously. "Now, I wish I could let this slide, I wish I could ignore the rules, but this man here betrayed us. Our little AJ here decided he didn't want to spy on our friends at the Kingdom anymore and made a runner! Now, you all know that one of the things I can't stand is a traitor. We're all we have in this shitty world and we can't be turning our backs on one another! Why can't I ignore our little rule-breaker here?"

"The rules keep us alive!" Seriously, this had to be a cult. (Y/N) didn't know how much longer she could stay here. They were all fucking insane.

"That's right! We survive, we save others, we bring civilisation! Rules keep us alive," The guy in the chair, AJ, eyes were darting around, filled to the brim with terror. "And we need to show that to our newest member! So, it's time to punish our dear AJ, and time for our newest member to prove her loyalty. Arat, hand me the saw."

The woman (Y/N) had seen at the gas station the other day strutted over, handing Negan a sharp saw, with the hint of a smirk on her mouth. God, what was wrong with the people here? (Y/N) felt her blood run cold as Negan took the saw and stepped towards AJ, who was starting to panic, wriggling in his bonds. Negan looked up to her, and he stifled a laugh at how tense she was. Without any other words, Negan pulled AJ's sleeve up, and rest the saw on his arm. He wasn't. He couldn't. But she was wrong. Negan brought the saw down, slicing it into the guy's arm. AJ let out a blood-curdling scream, and (Y/N) felt her blood run cold. Her eyes were wide, and she could feel panic sinking into her lungs. There was red everywhere, dripping down his arm, onto the floor, staining Negan's shirt, his scruff, his jacket. He just kept screaming and screaming and screaming. She couldn't breathe. The sickening noise of bones snapping and seperating, of flesh tearing filled the air. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

Eventually, the guy passed out, just as Negan yanked his dismembered arm off. (Y/N) was frozen in spot. What the fuck, what the fuck. He looked at her again grinning and used AJ's arm to wave at her. (Y/N) managed to drag her eyes away and looked around the room. The saviour's faces were all blank, no one showing any emotion apart from Negan's wives, who were crying in horror.

"Doc, take him away, fix him up. Fellas, bring it in!" The doctor who had been checking (Y/N)'s leg started untying AJ and quickly whisked him away on a stretcher that had been placed to one side. There was an all too familiar noise of a snarler behind her, and (Y/N)'s head snapped to look at the doorway Negan had to lead her through earlier, and there stood two saviours leading a snarler on a weird adapted leash. It was reaching out, teeth-gnashing, and she tried to scurry back, but her stupid leg decided she had moved too quickly. She tripped and started to fall back but was stopped by Negan once again. She hadn't heard him come back upstairs, but to be fair she was more focused on the snarler. He wrapped an arm around her waist while she tried to move away, and she thrashed slightly. She had no fucking weapon, what the fuck was he doing? She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe.

"See, if you're going to be one of us, you can't be afraid to get your hands dirty, and do every little task I ask of you," Negan announced, handing AJ's arm to her. "Feed it to the dead fuck."

"You alright, princess? You look pale," Negan asked. He'd moved her to what looked like a meeting room after she'd...

(Y/N) didn't say a word. She still hadn't fully comprehended what just happened and she was just staring at the floor, silently. She couldn't reply. Even if she wanted to. Red everywhere, flesh tearing, bones cracking and creaking. Negan walked over to where she sat, placing Lucille on the table right in front of her, before he placed his hands on her shoulders, to which she'd flinched much to his satisfaction, and leant down next to her ear.

"Okay, better question. Who are you?" He whispered, and she squirmed at the feeling of his breath on her neck.

"I'm Negan."

"Hey Spencer, are Aaron and Eric back yet?" (Y/N) questioned, jogging over to the gate. They should have been back two days ago, but the storm must have stopped them and she couldn't deny how worried she'd been. Deanna had let her into Alexandria about two weeks ago, just after Negan had sent her on her task. She shouldn't be getting attached. She knew that. And she knew it would make it all hurt later, but despite how weak everyone in this place, and how little they knew of the struggles outside the walls, they were the first trustworthy people she'd met since Kai and the others. Spencer let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes.

"If they'd been back, do you think you wouldn't be the first to know?" He snapped, and she raised her eyebrows, daring him to keep pushing. She'd beaten his ass twice before, she would happily do it again. The way he and his brother dealt with runs was ridiculous, and they'd fought over it on more than one occasion. Deanna had nearly kicked her out the second time it got ugly.

In the short time she'd been there, she'd found herself growing close to Aaron and Eric. When she arrived, Deanna could sense something was suspicious about her. As much as the woman irritated her, (Y/N) couldn't deny her sharp wit. She'd put her in with Aaron and Eric after the latter had offered, in some weird hope that they would stop her from getting into trouble. (Y/N) had to hand it to her, apart from a few odd occasions, the couple had been keeping her out of fights, especially when she first joined the community. After so long out there, she was always on guard, and while she didn't think she'd be able to ever get rid of that, she felt safer here. From the snarlers at the very least.

After Nicholas walked over to take his shift on guard duty, Spencer shoved past her. That guy had serious issues. With a small sigh, (Y/N) turned around and walked back into her neighbourhood. She had to get back to her job. Even though she'd hated the idea of working again, of pretending that the world hadn't gone to hell, after a few days, she had started falling into a routine. Since she had much more experience out there than anyone in the whole of Alexandria (not even Eric or Aaron really had any idea what it was like despite being out there so often), she went on runs with Spencer, Nicholas and Aidan, though she knew there was something slightly fishy going on there. Half the time Aidan and Nicholas would wander off somewhere and leave her with Spencer. Spencer only came on runs sometimes, but he would share looks with the other men before they left. Part of her had been tempted to go with them, but she got an awful feeling that prying would do her little good. Especially if they started prying into her business because of it. That would get them killed. And probably her too.

Every week, she had to meet someone from The Sanctuary with information about Alexandria. He needed to know whether it was worth making a deal with them. At first, it had been every two days, and Negan had come himself, to ensure she didn't try anything. But after a few days, he started sending random Saviours, most of which she'd never seen before and extended the time between. She hated them. Every inch of her soul hated herself for ever accepting Negan's offer. She should have died that morning. That would have been better than living with the constant crawling guilt every time anyone showed her any kindness. Or the nightmares of AJ and that snarler that would haunt her every time she closed her eyes. Part of her was tempted to run away, but she knew they'd find her. Negan wouldn't let her go, now he had her unless she was very lucky. But as she'd learnt the past few years, she definitely wasn't.

When she wasn't on runs, she was helping run Alexandria, not that Deanna ever realised it. (Y/N) had learnt that suggesting was more effective than demanding. If she made it sound like it was Deanna's idea, it was more likely to get through to her. That was the only reason some of her ideas had even gotten put into place, like putting locks on houses of the elderly to lock at night in case they passed and turned in their sleep.

"(Y/N)!" A familiar voice sounded and (Y/N) turned around to see Enid jogging over. The teen was known to be extremely antisocial, and according to one of Jessie's sons, Ron, it had taken her nearly three weeks to say anything when she first joined. But for some reason, she'd gotten attached to (Y/N), and she stuck by her as much as she could. Maybe it was the fact that they both knew how much the post-apocalyptic world outside the walls sucked. Enid came to walk beside her as she started heading back to the house she shared with Aaron and Eric. God, she had to stop getting attached. They would hate her later.

"You doing okay, kiddo? I thought Pete was meant to be teaching you and Denise some medical crap?" (Y/N) questioned, shoving her hands in her pockets. Enid shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"He was, but he only wanted to teach Denise because I'm 'just a kid'" She grumbled, using sarcastic air quotations that made (Y/N) chortle. Enid gave a small smile, one that only (Y/N) really got to see.

"Well, kid, you already know how I feel about that man," The two continued walking, exchanging repetitive conversation about the pantry, Pete, Enid bitched about Ron and Sam before they reached her house. They stepped inside and collapsed onto the couch.

"Hey, I was wondering, next time you're on a run, could you try and grab some more comics? I've nearly read all mine, and Sam keeps stealing them," Enid asked, bashfully and (Y/N) smiled. The kid played adult more often than not, and it was nice seeing her actually acting like a child.

"Of course, Enid, I'll see what I can find," She answered, and Enid went to thank her when Denise came crashing through the front door, making the pair jump to their feet. Shit, walkers? An attack?

"They're back and Eric is in the infirmary, c'mon!" Denise dashed off again, and (Y/N) was hot on her heels, sprinting to the infirmary. What the hell did that idiot do now? How bad was he injured? When they reached the infirmary, (Y/N) didn't pause for even a second, and went barreling to Eric's side. Pete was hovering near his feet, but she couldn't help but notice how deathly pale her friend was.

"What did you do, you dumbass?" She demanded, but Eric could hear the pure relief in her voice, and he smiled back at her, despite the small glare on her face.

"Just took a page out of your book," He teased, but let out a groan as Pete started setting his ankle, which she was starting to guess was broken.

"Be careful, asshole," She hissed, and Pete sent her a deathly glare. Eric put a hand over hers, to reassure her. She knew it wasn't Pete's fault, but she was still winding down from the worry.

After about half an hour, Eric was moved home, with the help of Denise, Enid and (Y/N), and she hadn't moved from his side, except to get him anything he needed. Enid had left to give them some space. According to Eric, Aaron had found a new group of about 14 people, and at some point, they'd split up and half of them had found and saved him from getting eaten by snarlers. She made a mental note to thank them later. Aaron had gone with the group for their interviews. Yeah, she remembered hers. Even then she'd found Deanna pretentious. Eric was the one who noticed Aaron walking back to the house, and he laughed when (Y/N) sprinted out of the house to nearly tackle him in a hug. Aaron had to step back a few steps so he didn't fall over, and he was more than a little surprised. She didn't show affection very often, but he supposed he'd probably scared her by being out for so long. Over his shoulder, she couldn't help but notice some kid in a sheriffs hat with his dad. Hell, he looked a lot like that kid from Terminus. But she was probably imagining it.

"You can't just stay in here until my ankle heals, you need to leave, do your job, actually talk to people. Besides, Denise is bringing my crutches later," Eric stated, folding his arms. Aaron was stood behind him from where he sat on the couch, and they were ganging up on her.

"When you first got here, we didn't stay here every day while you had that gash in your leg," Aaron agreed, and (Y/N) started messing with her ring absently, narrowing her eyes.

"You barely knew me then. It's been two weeks and I know you better now," She shot back, starting to pace slightly.

"Okay, look. If you go out for at least an hour, you can come back and check on me. I can survive for an hour, as long as I have a book or something," Eric tried to reason, and (Y/N) paused, holding his gaze. Fuck, they weren't going to let this go until she went outside. It was two against one, and she wasn't going to win this one.

"Alright, fine. One hour, but then I'm coming right back," She snapped grumpily, and the men both grinned. "But let it be known, I'm not happy about this."

"Oh, believe me, we know," Aaron laughed, before kissing Eric's cheek and heading out the door. (Y/N) went to walk out but Eric caught her arm.

"I'll be fine, (Y/N). I promise," He stated and she sighed, leaning down to give him a brief hug before nodding and waking out the door after Aaron. He was stood out front, talking to a large group. Must be the new group, since she knew all the faces here by now. The kid (Y/N) had seen yesterday raised his arm, waving at her with a kind smile, and she waved back, beaming. Then it dropped and she froze, as her eyes caught with some in the small crowd. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. She had to be hallucinating. This couldn't be real

"Daryl?" She heard someone say, but it sounded like her. She couldn't move. This was it. She'd lost her mind, she'd gone crazy. She felt her eyes building with tears, as the breeze blew her hair into her face.

His crossbow, the one he'd taught her how to use so many years ago now, fell to the ground with a clatter, and suddenly he was moving, running, closer and closer until he stopped right in front of her. Her eyes darted all over his body. This felt so real. Could it be real? There was a moment of dead silence between them, where she couldn't hear the confused muttering of the group behind her. Where she couldn't see the wide grin on Aaron's face as he put the pieces together. Then suddenly, Daryl launched forward, yanking her into him so tightly she thought she felt her ribs creak.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. She wasn't crazy. He was there, he was right fucking there, holding her so tightly, a hand on the back of her head keeping her locked against him. Her fingers stabbed into the back of his vest, and she was whispering against his neck without even realising it.

"You're alive, you're alive, you're here," Over and over. She could feel him trembling and tears dripping onto her neck but she didn't care. Her Daryl was alive. Her husband was alive.

"Holy shit," Daryl choked out, and she felt like she could have cried. She never thought she'd hear that gruff, southern drawl again. She let out a teary laugh and she pulled back just enough so she could see him properly. Her hands drifted from his back to hold his cheeks, thumbs running over his cheeks, still laced with dirt and grime.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I'm going to kill you, Dixon," She said with a smile before she tugged him forward into a rough kiss. His hands shifted to her hips and he held on so tightly. Like she would disappear if he let go for even a second. Behind them, she could hear Aaron's voice, filled with glee, and the voice of a woman in a similar tone. Confused voices, borderline shouting, and the sound of footsteps running over. But none of it mattered.

He was alive.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

(Some of the tags didn’t work last chapter for some reason I’m sorry!)

[1a-imagines]

An uncanny pair

Characters: wolf!Bakugo

Overview: After saving a dying wolf you made an unlikely friend, but how much will it cost you in the end?

Warnings: Mentions of blood.

A/n: i for real finished writing this whole thing and my brain was like. "Ok but, this concept would've been a better-" BUT I ALREAdY WROTE IT NOW U DUMBASS.

Smh

Anyway pls enjoy :>

"Don't you go too far into the woods, misses!" The old lady scolded you, she may be short but she also knew how intimidating. She was glaring at you with intense amber eyes, her lips pulled into a deep frown. You’d be a fool not to listen to her warning. Not to mention, you had seen her wrath first hand.

That poor thief… he did not see the old lady coming. You still recalled the day the thief entered her shop, with a shiver, he could never have known that this little old lady held immense power. You didn’t even understand why your town bothered knights and hunters, she seemed to be stronger than all of them combined.

“Yes Ma’am!” you saluted in a silly manner and the old lady hit your ankles with her cane. You let out a grunt and brought up your leg to rub the now red patch of skin on your foot with a frown. “At least you know how to show your elders some respect. Remember to be back before dark or else the whole town will panic and send out a search party. I don’t want to deal with that kind of headache.” The old lady continued to lecture you as you adjusted the bag by your side. You had to hold back the need to roll your eyes at her exaggeration, You didn’t even cause that much trouble!

“What would make you think that? I hold no importance here! Besides it’s only a 40 minute walk to the next town, I’ll be fine..” You shot back.

The town you were going to was much bigger than your own and therefore had a better range of supplies she only needed to buy some ingredients for dinner tonight. Her friends were coming to visit and she wanted to prepare something nice for them. “Perhaps not, but you’re friends with those two knights? Are you not? You know if you don't return before dark they’ll worry and bother all their fellow knight friends to go searching for you.”

You hummed at her reply, Izuku and Iida did tend to worry a bit too much. Uraraka would be sure to panic too. You recalled the first time they panicked and sent out a whole search party when you hadn’t returned before sunset. You had fallen down a small hill and twisted your ankle, so maybe you should feel lucky to have friends who cared about you so much? Otherwise, you would have been there for- who knows how long?

“I promise I’ll be back before dark, you don’t have to worry. I make this journey almost every week and nothing bad ever happens.” She reassured the little old lady who let out a sigh of exhaustion. “I’ll be holding you to that young lady- now run along.” She shooed you away and you smiled, sending her a wave.

You were thankful she took it upon herself to watch out and care for you. You lived alone in a cottage at the edge of town, You were very secluded and had no family to look out for you. That little old lady was the only person you had, and despite her slightly strict rules, and tough love, you appreciated and loved her as if she were your own grandmother.

You smiled as the edge of the forest came into view. There was something so great about being able to escape the town for a while and have some peace. Some might find it strange you enjoyed the forests so much, especially with all the monsters and danger that could be lurking about. Usually, monsters only came out at night, so you didn’t feel unsafe or anything, besides, you were pretty good at combat so you were confident you’d hold up well in a fight.

Still, most people preferred the comfort of the town. It had security, protection, there weren’t many things to worry about when in the town. There was food on your table and knights guarding your home to keep you safe.

But sometimes it got a bit suffocating. You liked to go on adventures, to feel free and see new things. Not to say you didn’t like your town. It was nice, everyone was like a big family, even if you lived alone you had many others who cared for you, who you could rely on. You felt pretty lucky to be a part of that town.

The forest was just a secret pleasure you liked escaping to every now and then.

You silently enjoyed your nature walk, keeping to the path as you indulge in the chirping of birds and the rustling of the trees. There was a gentle breeze, it was cool against your skin. Which was much appreciated since the sun was shining bright today.

It didn’t take much longer to get to the town.

Despite arriving early morning you ended up staying most of the day, looking around at all the expensive things you could only dream of buying, You greedily eyed down all of the delicious baked goods and foods the town had to offer, they made your stomach rumble and your mouth drool but you had only brought enough money for the ingredients you needed so you were left to silently drool.

Eventually, you tore yourself away from window shopping and gathered all the ingredients you needed for the dinner tonight.

You took one last stroll around the town, admiring how much bigger it was than your own, how the houses looked a lot more sturdy, how the streets were busy with people rushing around as if they have somewhere important to be. It was a completely different world to your own and you weren’t sure you would ever get used to it, no matter how many times you visited this place.

When you noticed the sun was getting closer to the mountain tops over the horizon you figured it was time to go home, you didn’t want to anger your granny by being late, especially not after her warnings.

As you walked back through the forest you noticed the air was a lot more chilly that this morning, there were no birds this time and the cold made you tighten your cloak around you. Nevertheless, you enjoyed the serenity all the same.

That was, until your peaceful walk was interrupted by a loud cry.

Not a human cry, but something else.

Your footsteps halted as you looked around for the source of the noise. You couldn’t see anything. It was silent for a while but you didn’t feel comfortable walking away, whatever it was, it sounded like it was in a lot of pain.

A few minutes later another cry sounded out and you were able to follow the general direction it was coming from. You followed the sound away from the footpath, your kind-hearted nature wouldn’t allow you to walk away, or maybe it was just curiosity? Either way, you went to investigate. You scanned through the trees until you eventually saw a patch of blood on the grass floor. Your lips parted as you gasped, the trail of blood led into a group of bushes. You bit your lip.

It seemed suspicious.

Luckily you had remembered your pocket knife. Your hand hovered over the knife on your belt as you followed the blood. You walked through the greenery, shuffling through the bushes, and on the other side found yourself at the bottom of a cliff, bushes surrounded the area keeping it closed off and a singular tree stood to the right.

You gasped again upon seeing a wolf under the tree. Its ash-blond fur was matted with spots of blood, it was laying on its side, panting, it’s eyes were shut so it mustn’t have noticed you yet.

It looked weak, clearly badly injured. You could tell the damage was coming from it’s, right, back leg. You could see the blood was still pouring out of the would and creating a pool under its body. Had it stepped into a trap? Hunters often set those so they could gather wolf pelts, though if that was the case he would still be trapped, right? Maybe it had gotten into a fight? Or maybe hunters had found it wandering about and attacked?

You shook your head.

Now was not the time to be pondering on the possibilities. The poor thing was in a lot of pain. If you didn’t stop the bleeding then it could die!

However, wolves are dangerous creatures… especially when they’re dying and in a lot of pain. You cautiously took a step forward but upon making your movement its red eyes shot open. They landed on you and you were met with a very threatening, warning growl. Even if you knew there was no way it was in any condition to get up and attack you, it’s deep growl made your heart jump into your throat. Your hands began to shake but you forced yourself to calm down. You stopped walking forward and held up your hands to show you were of no threat. “It’s ok... I just want to help.”

‘Why am I speaking to a wolf like it can understand me?’ you sighed at your idiocy but to your surprise; the growling stopped.

Those piercing red eyes stayed on you, cutting into your soul with a deadly glare. The poor thing looked so weak and yet it was still trying to be threatening. Obviously it did not trust you. You noticed its eyes moved down to your belt and upon seeing your knife it growled again. You unclipped it from your belt and did the stupidest thing you’ve probably done in your whole life.

You threw it away, out of reach.

The wolf’s hardened gaze was still fixated on you but it noticeably relaxed a little seeing you unarmed now. You slowly approached and with no more growling or warnings from the wolf you kneeled down beside it.

The closer you got the more you could see just how hurt it was. Maybe it was a fight after all?

The wound was deep but it wasn’t in a vital area, which made this a lot easier on you. All you had to do was clean it and bandage it up. It looked like a stab wound, maybe it was hunters after all?

You leaned over and reached into your bag, grabbing the flask of water you carried with you. You realised you didn’t have any spare cloth and sighed. You took off your cloak and gently poured some water from your flask onto a corner part of it. You could still feel the wolf's intense gaze on you, watching to see what you were doing. It made you gulp, knowing that if you made any wrong move it would without a doubt attack you. You were close enough for it to take a good chunk out of your arm now.

You turned to meet it’s red eyes. “This will hurt a bit, I’m going to clean it, please don’t kill me-” You pleaded, not sure if it would lash out at you for causing it more pain by touching its wound- even if you were just trying to help it might not understand that.

You turned to the wound, it seemed to be the only wound it had, it looked really dirty,  if you didn’t do this it would get infected.

You swallowed your fear and lightly pressed the cloth onto the wound.

The wolf growled at the pain after feeling the pressure onto its open wound. You waited until it relaxed a bit and pressed the cloth down again, only applying a gentle pressure as you to get rid of all the dirt, trying not to hurt it more. You were surprised it was being so obedient. It wasn’t making any moves to attack you, it just lay there, glaring at you and letting out the odd sigh or growl of pain. Maybe it realised that you were no threat after all?

Once you were satisfied that the wound was clean and wouldn’t get infected you realised you’d have to use something to bandage it with so it didn’t keep losing blood. You looked down at your cloak, part of it already bloodied, and sighed.

You began to rip up the fabric, for once you felt glad that you were poor and unable to afford fancy, non-flimsy materials, it made ripping it up a lot easier on you.

You ripped up the non dirty corner of your cloak and cautiously wrapped the fabric around it’s leg, making sure it was tight enough to hold the blood in. You sat back on your knees, taking in how the wolf lay there, still unable to stand.

You pressed your lips in a thin line. There was no way it would be able to walk back to it’s pack in this condition.

Your eyes lit up as you remembered the food you had bought from town. You reached back over for the bag and pulled out some raw meat you had intended to cook up for the dinner but- well... This was more important. You unwrapped the meat from the bag, and the wolf's nose twitched at the smell of food. It looked over to you, its eyes no longer glaring but rather staring at the food with a longing look. It must be starving.

You chuckled at its expression and placed the meat down next to its head. “Here you go, you can have it.” you smiled and watched as the wolf greedily ate up your offering of food. As it ate the raw meat you reached back for the flask of water. You had no bowl to put it in for the wolf to drink up so you decided you’d have to help hydrate it yourself. This would help give it the strength it needed to get back home.

After it finished devouring the meat you held up the flask. “It’s water, you lost a lot of blood so you need to drink it all up!” You told it, the wolf huffed but in its weak state it could only comply. You slowly poured the water down and it lapped up whatever it could. Once it emptied you placed everything back into your bag, even your ruiner coak which you would have to throw away now.

You got comfy, you didn’t want to leave it here alone in case something came out and took advantage of it’s weakened state.

You had to admit, you were a bit prideful of yourself. Seeing that the wolf was already looking much better than when you had found it made you feel really good. You were actually able to help save its life and it made your heart swell with joy.

Now that the worry of the wolf bleeding out and dying had gone the situation had become a lot clearer to you. You were actually sitting in front of a wolf, feeding it, taking care of it- they were one of the most aggressive creatures around these forests- Well at least to humans. Not that you could blame them, hunters often tried killing and capturing them, so of course they’d want to attack humans, they probably had no trust in your kind.

Oh boy, if your town could see you now they’d call you crazy for approaching a wolf. In fact, if they saw the wolf here they’d no doubt capture and kill it. You didn’t agree with that mindset, maybe it made you weak but you’d rather be weak than be a monster. You found wolves to be wonderful creatures, from what you knew they were very intelligent and loyal animals. You didn’t want to harm them, in fact, you always liked the idea of having a pet wolf.

You were lost in thought for so long you barely even realised when the wolf began slowly pushing itself up, wobbling in the process since it could only use three of its legs. When you noticed it limping away towards the bushes it had no doubt came from you shot up from the ground. “Wait! You’re still hurt, you should rest-” A growl cut you off, the wolves eyes glaring at you as if you had just threatened it. You tensed up for a second, you thought it might attack you but when it turned around and limped away again you sighed in relief.

“Get home safe!” You smiled, you knew it heard you as its ear twitched at your words but it didn’t stop to look back at you and eventually it disappeared into the trees.

You looked back at the puddle of blood it had left behind and exhaled through your nose.

Being near a wolf for more than 5 seconds and not dying? You were probably the first and only human to achieve that.

-----

Despite the lack of meat in the dish the dinner with your friends had gone pretty well. Luckily you had bought all those herbs and spices, it really helped to keep it from being too bland. Not to mention spending quality time with those three was always a treat!

Luckily You had managed to make it back before the moon showed up, which meant you had avoided any and all lectures from the townspeople.

Last night when you had returned home you noticed that some blood had gotten onto your clothes from when you were tending to the wolf, you were lucky enough that no one had seen you come back from your trip, or else they would have most definitely questioned why you had blood stains all over you.

Currently, you were on your way to the creeks to wash the stains out. You had made sure to keep out of sight again to avoid any suspicion. When you eventually got to the lake you knelt down beside the water, rolling up your sleeves and began cleaning your dirty clothes. Even with the use of soap, the stains were taking a long time to rub out. Then again, you had never gotten blood stains on your clothes. Maybe you’d have to throw these out? Maybe you just needed to let them soak in the water for a while?

You sighed, your arms aching from the gruelling task. You really didn’t want to throw these out! The thought of having to save up and buy new clothes only made you scrub harder. Especially when there was nothing wrong with these ones- well, minus the blood stains.

You were so busy wrestling with the stains and grumbling to yourself that you didn’t notice the figure approaching you.

You heard a huff come from behind you and whipped around in fright, though that soon disappeared when your eyes landed on the wolf from yesterday, it was sitting directly behind you, red eyes staring into your own with annoyance. Its leg was miraculously all healed up, not even a scar was left in its wake. Which seemed impossible to you but you were glad it was doing better.

“Oh, it’s you again. What are you doing here? Isn’t it dangerous to be so close to a town full of humans?” You questioned, and the wolf trudged forward, you noticed it had something in its mouth. The wolf placed the cloth from your cloak onto the ground in front of you, the same cloth you had torn up and used to stop the bleeding on its leg yesterday. It sat back again and watched your reaction.

You breathed out in awe, it was almost like the wolf was trying to show you gratitude. Either it was a very smart wolf or…

You picked up the cloth, it was coated in bloodstains, of course, you had no use for these anymore, they were ruined and you had already thrown that cloak away but the gesture was enough to make these ruined rags hold so much meaning. Your hand clenched around the material and you smiled softly, it was incredible it had come back just for this. You had been sure you’d never see the wolf again. “Thank you.”

You finally spoke and the wolf turned its head away with a huff. Wolves were a very prideful bunch from what little you knew about them, so it was no doubt that this had probably taken a lot for him to do. To swallow his pride and come thank the human who had saved his life.

You turned back to your clothes and the wolf came and sat beside you, watching you as you cleaned. You felt powerful to have a wolf obediently sitting by your side, not that'd you admit it outloud, but you had always wanted a pet. “Are you sure you should stay here… it’s dangerous for your kind.” You spoke, glancing over at the wolf in time to see him growl in protest.

Looks like he was staying for a while.

You smiled and happily sat in silence with the wolf. You took note of the way it’s tail slightly swayed behind it. You giggled at the sign of contentment from it. Had you really created a bond with a wolf of all things? It seemed so far fetched and yet here you were.

Your eyes widened as you recalled your previous thoughts about the wolf. Curiosity got the better of you and without thinking you blurted out. “Are you a werewolf?”

The wolf tensed for a split second, but it's shock was soon replaced with a glare at you. You didn’t feel very threatened, it didn’t seem like it was going to hurt you or that it was really mad at you for your question.

You held up your hands, in the same way, you had done when you first encountered the injured wolf. “I-I Don’t mind if you are!!” You defended yourself, though it didn’t seem to believe you.

Humans were known for holding a deep hatred for werewolves. Though the way you were looking at him told him that you were being honest with him. You had also saved his life yesterday so he really had no reason not to believe you.

He sighed through his nose.

Your eyes widened as the fur on its body began to disappear, its features slowly becoming more human-like, though his ears, tail and teeth stayed the same. Luckily when he transformed he was wearing clothes. You might have died on the spot if he had been naked.

“You’re smarter than you look.” He grumbled, he looked slightly irritated as you stared at him in awe. Meeting a wolf was one thing but a werewolf!? You had only ever heard of them! Honestly? you were sure they were just myths! But now there was one sitting in front of you!

“Wow!” You gaped. Your eyes trailed up to his ears, they twitched atop of his head, his tail still absentmindedly swaying behind him. You suppressed a sequel, it was adorable- even with his piercing red eyes glaring at you.

He caught you gushing over his features and a grumble escaped his lips. As soon as he felt his cheeks heating up he turned his face away from you. "Dumbass human…" he grumbled under his breath, covering his embarrassment with annoyance. Why the hell did his cheeks suddenly feel so hot anyway!?

You sat back, scooching closer to him as your curiosity peaked, this was like a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet a werewolf. You were still taking it all in. You had to stop yourself from reaching up and petting his big fluffy ears!

“So- is your leg doing ok?” You tilted your head, though your eyes were currently following his swishing tail.

“Yeah, I got it healed when I returned back to my pack.” He told you, pausing for a second as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his green jacket. You wanted to ask how it healed so quickly? That should be impossible? Did wolves have some sort of sacred healing techniques or did their race naturally heal fast? Werewolves were said to be much stronger than humans, maybe their bodies were able to heal fast? You had so many questions but before you could ask them he spoke up again.

“Thank you..” He grumbled out, you could tell by his expression alone that this was hard for him to say. He looked annoyed, embarrassed, but mostly irritated. Wolves really were a prideful bunch after all. It must have been hard for him to have a human of all things see him in such a weak state let alone help him and then have to thank them in return.

This was actually the first time in his life he had tried so hard to swallow his pride. The reason being that, even if he didn’t want to admit it, you saved his life. If you hadn't shown up he would have no doubt died in that spot. So even if his ego was taking a hit, he still wanted to thank you. He hadn’t expected a human of all things to save his life. All night he had been thinking about you, you hadn’t changed his perspective on humans but you had changed his perspective on you.

When he first saw you he thought you were going to finish him off, but you proved him wrong.

“Don’t worry about it! I’d be a monster if I left you to die there.” You replied and he almost scoffed at you. You sounded so naive like you had no idea of what humans really did to his kind. “How did you get hurt in the first place?” You added.

“Humans.” Was his quick reply, but upon seeing your curious stare he sighed and added. “Hunters caught up with me, I was trying to gather food and the bastard came out of nowhere and one got a good hit on me with his sword. I managed to get away and hide, then you showed up.” He snarled, his eyes glaring at the lake.

The sudden change in mood scared you. He looked really pissed, but you knew that anger was not directed at you. It must have been pretty traumatic for him, he almost died all alone by a tree. It must have been scary to think he might die like that and never see his loved ones again. You assumed that his fear must have bundled up and turned into anger now that he's had a day to process the events.

“Oh.” You replied, you weren’t  sure what to say. You were a human too, would he really take comfort from the same kind that had tried to kill him yesterday? “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, you also caused a shit ton of problems for me!” He muttered bitterly and your jaw dropped open. Why was he suddenly blaming you!? Was this really coming from the same guy who was just thanking you for saving his life a second ago!? “What!? I helped you!”

“Yeah, then I went back to the pack reeking of human and wearing a cloth that also reeked of human. I had to listen to a mouth full from my shitty old lady.” Despite his words his tone lacked any real bite to it, it seemed like he was just trying to blame you for something so he could get a slither of his pride back. You rolled your eyes and ignored the comment. “Whatever, I’m just glad you’re still alive.”

Your words must have knocked him speechless because he didn’t reply. He watched you as you went back to scrubbing your clothes.

How could a human be so nice? It went against everything he knew about humans, all he knew was that they were greedy, murderers, So how come you weren’t? His eyes turned into slits as he glared at the ground. He didn’t understand you and it pissed him off. The only reason you were alive right now was that you had saved his life. You confused him so much, you made him wonder if you were just doing all of this to gain something? You made no sense in his eyes and it made him want to punch the first tree he could find.

He didn’t like feeling so conflicted.

He heard you groaning as you vigorously rubbed at the material in your hands. He rolled his eyes. "Idiot!! All you're doing is rubbing the stains in more! That's not how you get blood out!"

"Well then how do you get blood out!? I've never had this problem before!" You snapped back and threw the clothes back into the water.

The wolf came up to you, looking over your shoulder to inspect the damage.

You felt your heart stop, he was so close. You could feel his breath against your skin, he was almost pressed right up against your back, he smelled like burnt firewood. It was nice, you smiled as red danced across your cheeks.

"They're ruined."

You snapped from your thoughts, feeling embarrassed indulging in the proximity. "Huh?"

"You're clothes, they're ruined. For good."

"Oh… really?" You pouted, looking down at them with longing eyes. It was one of your favoured outfits and now they were wrecked. "Yeah, you shouldn't have rubbed the blood stains."

You let out a sigh and sat back, giving up on the garments and staring out at the beautiful lake. It connected to the ocean and left a salty smell in the air. It sparkled under the sun, if you were alone right now you might have gone for a swim.

"The hell do you look so sad for?? Just have someone in your town make more." He said.

"Yeah but that costs money, and I don't have much money."

The wolf stared at you with a clueless look. "M..money?" He questioned and you turned your head to him, your lips parting in shock. Did he not know what money was?

"Yeah… you know.. you use it to pay for things? Like clothes and food. You give money in exchange for peoples goods and services."

The wolf stared at you like you had just sprouted another head. He blinked, he didn't understand the concept. You were suddenly curious as to how his society worked. "How do wolves pay for things?"

He scoffed." We don't! As a pack we all have our designated jobs, we help and look out for each other. The only thing we ask in return is loyalty."

You smiled at his reply. "That sounds kinda nice actually." The wolf sat down next to you again and there was a moment of silence as you both listened to the calming sounds of running water. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world, for a moment you felt like you had no worries. It was so peaceful

“How did you find me?” You suddenly asked, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. He scoffed at your stupid question. “Idiot, wolves can track scents. I had your clothes so I knew what you smelled like. It just followed it! I also figured you lived in a nearby town since you had a bag full of food and shit with you yesterday. You also weren’t equipped like a traveler so it wasn’t hard to guess.” he replied, though he sounded irritated he had to explain something so obvious to you. Maybe he didn’t realise that humans weren’t as good at tracking as wolves were?

You nodded, humming in reply, “Wolves have good tracking skills... I don’t really know much about werewolves. I’ve never even seen one since all the hunters chase them away from our towns and stuff. To be honest, I thought you guys were just a myth." You chuckled but stopped when you saw his lip pull back into a snarl. Maybe it wasn’t smart to talk about hunters around him, it seemed to anger him. Though.. A lot seemed to anger him.

At least you weren’t one of them.

"They don't chase us away! We just want nothing to do with your kind!!" He snarled and you raised an eyebrow at him. "Then how come you came back to see me?"

He tensed, his teeth clenching as his cheeks tinted red. "You're different! You saved my fucking life! And I-" you could feel the irritation rolling off of him, though you weren’t sure what was riling him up so much.

"You what?"

You heard him growl, it wasn’t aimed at you, you could tell that much since his eyes were focused on the lake in front of you two.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you." He admitted through gritted teeth. His hands clenching in frustration. "You're the first human I've met who I didn't want to rip apart. The first, stupid, niave, human who actually showed kindess. You helped me, you saved my fucking life and I hate that I wanted to see you again so badly, I hate that I couldn't stop myself from coming here." He exhaled through his nose, trying to calm himself down. "I hate that I'm curious about you enough to want to get to know you."

Your lips parted in shock. He looked so conflicted about not hating you. He wanted to hate you, but you were the reason he was still breathing right now so how could he? You could have finished him off, he was helpless in that moment. Yet you decided to save him? He can’t hate you, no matter what your race is.

"Well… for the record, I wanted to see you again too." You smiled at him and he turned to you, it was now his turn to be shocked. "I mean- it's not everyday you get to have your very own wolf friend." You laughed.

He grumbled, something about you being naive again but you chose to keep ignoring his insults. "Don't get used to it… if we keep hanging around each other someone’s going to get hurt. If your town finds out then those hunters will try to kill me," he smirked. "Or I'll kill them first. But either way, it’ll only end badly. So this is the last time we'll see each other."

Your eyebrows knitted together. "Who cares about them! Those hunters always ruin everything. I won’t let them ruin this too! They have no part of this and if they want to try to get involved then they'll have to go through me first!" You huffed, clenching your hands in front of you. The wolf was surprised to hear you speaking about your own kind with such a bitter voice. You really were a weird human, he had never met anyone like you. You seemed to like him over your own people? Or at least you were willing to choose him over them. You seemed to disagree with what they did. He never would have guessed a human like you could exist. Once he got over his initial shock a smirk settled onto his lips. “You’re not so bad… for a human.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh? Thanks.” You replied, not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult.

There was a small pause before the wolf beside you stood up. You panicked thinking he was going to leave but he walked towards the lake. “It’s too open here..”

“What?” You followed his suit and stood up.

He sighed in irritation before turning to you. “If you want to meet up again then it can’t be here. It’s too open.” A bright smile made its way to your face, your eyes lit up at the thought of being able to see him again and it made him grumble. You were way too happy over something so dumb...

“There’s always that forest spot we met in! It was pretty closed off! I don't think anyone would find us there.”

The wolf grinded his teeth together, It all felt so stupid. Why was he even agreeing to this! He was a wolf! You were a human! It felt so dumb to try and secretly meet up! For what reason were you two deciding to do this?! He only came to thank you so he could peacefully sleep at night without feeling guilty about not showing you gratitude, so he could keep his pride, so he could stop thinking of you every second of the damn day. Sure- it had only been one day since you saved him but he was quick to anger. Yet here he was, making plans to see you again, You, a human, a species he had grown up hating all his life. It was all so confusing to him, he didn’t understand why he was so drawn to you. But it pissed him off more than ever!

"Sure, whatever." So why was he still agreeing to all of this? Surely it was going to end badly, in fact there was no doubt it would.

"I'll bring food for you too! You said you were out hunting yesterday but you got hurt before you could find food right?" He did his best not to look at you, something about that stupid smile of yours made him feel funny. He didn't like it.

"Why the hell would you do that? I'm not weak you know! I can take care of myself!"

"Yeah, but is it so wrong to make sure my new friend is well fed? I can't imagine that hunting for food everyday is easy." You backfired and he shrugged. "It's not hard for me since I'm so good at it!"

"I'm still bringing food." You stood your ground, crossing your arms over your chest for extra emphasis that you weren't going to budge. The wolf groaned and threw his head back

"Whatever! Same time! Tomorrow! Don't be late cause I’m not going to wait for you!!" He yelled at you before turning and stomping off.

You ran after him, "Wait! I never got your name. My name is y/n! What's yours?"

His footsteps paused and he looked at you over his shoulder. "It's Bakugo."

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 77: Like a Good Old-Fashioned Barn Raising

Chapters: 77/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: pg

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Party Time

Summary:  Buridag begins!

Loki was awake long before you were, getting preparations ready, loose ends tied up, last minute orders sent out. He allowed you to sleep until you woke on your own, having removed his little illusory alarms from you some time ago.

Sometimes flower petals still rained upon you, and perfume rose from your footsteps, but no more snakes in the bath.

So you rose slowly, stretching and yawning the grogginess away at your own pace. Time was very hard to tell by looking out windows at this time of year, but when Loki entered the room carrying an egg sandwich, a little pile of fresh potato chips, and a glass of coffee, you placed yourself firmly within brunch territory.

Loki flicked on your sunlamp, gestured at the chair, and handed you your brunch once you'd taken your seat.

You munched your food and absorbed your light while Loki laid out the day's plans. You'd get dressed in a ceremonial outfit that included your armor and helmet, and join the parade that was gathering even now.

They were initially going to put you on Sleipnir. You had asked them not to. Sleipnir was magnificent, but you had no connection to him, nor to Leynarodd, who was the second choice. Your sweet, stout, shaggy little Acorn was who you preferred, a horse that belonged to no one initially, but who had formed a trusting bond with you.

Your clothing was, predictably, green, the underdress and apron a dark mossy color, hemmed on all edges with fine gold braid, embroidered with stripes of delicate knotwork, and your mark, also in gold. Over the top of this went your quilted tunic, in it's shimmering jade, and then your armor; the breastplate, the tassets, the bracers, pauldrons, greaves, and poleyns, though the last two were not visible. They went on over the leather trousers you'd been given to wear under your dress. They were sleek things, made of tough black leather, pleated in diagonal patterns, just like something Loki would wear. You thought the pleats had the advantage of putting more leather between you and any danger, and were flexible as well.

There were actually places where your familiar oval brooches could be fastened, your strings of shining beads strung between, your chatelaine dangled. Your belt was tooled leather and brass findings, hung with a leather purse, your Yggdrasil phone case, a small drinking horn carved with your mark, and of course, your knife. A little burst of deep pink against all the gold, green, and black.

You wore a minty-green velvet cape, a gift from Andsvarr, and your beautiful helmet to top it all off. You truly looked like something out of a fantasy novel, someone who looked like they should be standing next to the legendary figure that Loki currently cut.

He looked enormous, with his many asymmetrical layers, and molded shoulder guards, his billowing cape and hair spilling from beneath his magnificent curling horns. He shone with nornbein, and his cloak, shot with silk, shimmered subtly.

“You're so beautiful.” you mumbled. Loki smiled, and leaned down to adjust your cape, cheeks dusted with pink.

“Thank you.” he said, “I make every attempt. Though I think I will fade into the background under the power of your radiance.”

Warmth rushed to your face.

“Um, I know we've got to hurry and get Acorn, but I want to ask you a favor, Loki.”

“Anything. Tell me what it is and I'll make it so.”

You took a deep breath.

“I need you to stop trying to impress my father.”

The pink on his cheeks transformed into bright red.

“Ah. Yes, I rather hashed that, didn't I? I apologize. I thought that was still standard procedure, but your father, uh, explained otherwise.”

“Mhm, I'll bet he did. Look, I know you wanted to surprise us, but when it comes to things like that, you really oughta run it by me first. I could have told you that wouldn't work out the way you thought it would. You know, saved you from being chewed out like that. You can let me save you sometimes too.”

“ Like with the Huldra.”

“Kinda. Dad's not as bloodthirsty as she was, but he's a lot more stubborn.”

“Like father, like daughter, hm?” he teased.

“You have not seen me be stubborn yet.” you warned, and he gave you a quick smooch.

“A blessing, I'm sure. Very well, I agree. Surprises get run by you. Anything to save me from another tongue lashing. That man truly does not hold back.”

“I mean it though.” you persisted. “I'm not saying that you can't have any surprises at all, but talk to me about big stuff like that. If it's something that Asgardian law or custom would demand, but would be insulting to a human, we can maybe hash out an alternative that would satisfy both. That's the point, isn't it? Please, I really don't want to deal with anymore trouble between you two. Don't get hung up on impressing him, he has every reason to reject it, and he will. No more gifts, no toasts, no calling attention to him in public, nothing. He hates being the center of attention. Just let him be a guest, and see, without interference, that his little girl is doing fine on her own.”

“I really didn't mean to make him so angry.” Loki said, a little crestfallen. “And the more I tried to explain, the angrier he became. I just wanted him to know how much I value you. I wanted you to know too.”

“Material culture is different where I'm from. There are places in the world where that would have been understood and appreciated, but we've stopped doing it. In the same vein, fathers don't make all the decisions for their daughters anymore, so you don't actually need his approval. But...I need you to understand, it's not just that you took away his child, though that's bad enough. It's that I'm the only family he has left. My grandma only had one kid, and that was my dad. And she's dead, and so's my granddad, before I was even born. And then my mom died, and Beth too, and so I'm all that's left for him. And I have this giant Sword of Damocles hanging over my head all the time, and he's had to worry about that for my whole life. Most of the women on my mom's side all died from this, but occasionally, rarely, there's one that doesn't. I'm starting to hope that might be me. Maybe the magic is protecting me. But he's not going to be able to accept that so easily. I'm all he had left, and you took me away. That's all that's going to be important to him. You didn't even have to do the things you did in New York, this is the worst possible crime you could commit, in his eyes.”

Loki heaved a sigh of remorse. “And I cannot even return you to him. It seems there is one more thing I cannot set right.”

“The best you can do is make sure I'm okay. And don't bother him anymore. And maybe let him come visit more often. The more he sees me living my life and being fine, the more confidence he will have that I'm actually safe here.”

“I shall endeavor to help you thrive.” Loki promised.

“All right, so if that's settled, we should go get our horses.”

                                                                         ******

Acorn was, like you, a bit overdressed in your opinion. Long tabbards and blankets covered her from nose to rump, green and gold, embroidered with oak leaves. They were so long, they almost brushed the ground. Ribbons were braided into her wild mane and tail, and bells jingled with every movement. Like you, she could barely be seen under her splendor. But she was probably warm, and happily accepted a carrot from your hand. Placid as always, she let you up on her back, and fell into step behind Leynarodd, who likewise, followed up behind Sleipnir, whose hooves still rang like bells even over the thin layer of packed snow that covered the recently cleared streets.

There was a whole procession of people-this was a parade after all, and Thor, on Sleipnir, was preceded by the twin Valkyries, carrying Asgardian banners, as well as several musicians, and Beli, who chanted an ancient epic on the exploits of Buri.

Saga had translated the chant for you a while ago, and it sounded something like the sensationalized, self-aggrandizing boasts of pharaohs, or Mesopotamian kings-the kind that claimed to be rulers of the world, or rulers of the heavens themselves, to have battled armies of demons, killed giant lions with only a stick-that sort of thing. But when Beli called out those verses in such an ancient dialect of Asgardian, the words themselves felt powerful.

Thor followed slowly, Sliepnir plodding along, both of them absolutely huge. Loki and Leynarodd came right behind, only slightly smaller. And then you and Acorn, almost comical in your stature, diminutive by comparison. You were keenly aware of it, but either all of Asgard was too polite to say anything about it, or they simply didn't care.

The human guests, corralled in roped off areas, whooped and cheered when when you passed. Behind you, more musicians played, and a circle of Seidkonas walked in silent dignity. Then came more banners, the rest of the Valkyries, representatives of each noble house and guild, and the rest of the Aesir in Asgard, provided they didn't already have another position in the parade.

After them, the gathered Asgardians began following, lengthening out the procession, bright balls of magical light bobbing overhead. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and would be slinking away in a mere three or so hours, so the mage lights sparkled everywhere. Helpful Einherjar herded the humans to the next specially roped off area, so they could follow the parade as well; you caught a few amused faces at the playful rowdiness displayed by celebrating humans.

That was just how humans were when they were excited about something. Humans loved to holler, to jump, and dance, and clap. Some of them were even trying to keep time with the music.

You weren't actually able to pick out your father or Tara in the crowd, nor anyone else you knew, so you just kept your head forward and your back straight, trying to look as dignified as you could.

You'd only ever seen a few of what you considered 'proper' parades: in a small town a parade mostly consisted of people waving from the backs of neighborhood pickup trucks and tractors, maybe decorated with balloons or paper chains, blasting music from dusty old speakers. In the autumn, there might be pumpkins and corn stalks, and usually hayrides. But never anything like this spectacle.

As you got closer to the construction site, the apprentice mages responsible for all the floating lights started throwing sparks from their hands, like colorful sparklers. The gathered Asgardians began lining up in their designated areas, ready to play their part. The foundations had already been dug, and everything that needed to go into them was already there. All that remained was the pouring.

Thor, Loki, and yourself dismounted as close to in unison as you could manage, the horses carefully lead away to a temporary enclosure. You headed to the stack of decorative bricks, and took your place among the Asgardians there, while Thor gave the order for the cement to pour.

While this went on, Beli gathered his students and skalds in front of the Huldrastone to recite a modern epic. Within the first few verses you realized that it was about the Huldra's attack, and your confrontation with her.

Of course, the poem was much cleaner and more elegant than the actual events had been, but certain things had still been included. Your ears burned beneath your helmet when Beli reached the part where you had 'bestowed upon the fallen prince, a gentle sacrificial kiss, knowing that to trade life for life would grant him breath once more.'

You had finally spotted your father and Tara in the crowd; he crossed his arms and glared upon hearing the verse, while Tara gave you a cheezy grin and thumbs up.

As the poem reached its conclusion, the cement finished pouring, and a new recitation began. As Thor and Loki knelt and began scratching ritual runes into the wet cement, Beli's current group of student came forward and began telling the story of Beli, while apprentice mages illustrated the words with colorful, stylized illusions.

There were harrowing battles against huge stone people, the construction of the original Bifrost, which at that time connected a fleet of alien ships to one another. The illusions showed the gathering of construction materials, the building of a platform in space, and the grand revelation of the crystalline platform upon which Asgard slowly grew. Mountain and plain, river and ocean, building after magnificent building rose into the sky. Their ships captured and carved an asteroid, then set it in orbit as a bright new moon. All this was accomplished by the use of a glowing, icy blue cube that was difficult to look directly at. It was compelling though; it caught and held your attention with its beautiful, sparkling light.

You knew what that device was: you had learned about it in your lessons with Saga. It was the object known as the Tesseract, a four dimensional creation meant to house the incredible energy of an Infinity Stone. Perhaps that was why it was simultaneously fascinating, yet hard to perceive. Your curious human brain was drawn to its uniqueness, yet equally unable to fully fathom it.

That device was the key to Asgard's existence and eventual success. It was unthinkable to you that Odin had just lost it on Earth, as Sagas histories had proclaimed. It must have been a terrible loss.

Thor and Loki completed their carving, and began the process of imbuing the foundations with divine power. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and there was a pricking in your sinuses, like you were about to sneeze. There was almost a flavor to it.

The actual blessing didn't take nearly as long as the rune carving ritual, and soon, the two brothers stepped back, to allow others to begin their work. More mages worked a spell together that lifted the water out of the cement, drying it within moments. People came forward with wires and pipes, floor and wall supports, insulation, hammers, plaster, bricks, and mortar. In rotating lines people laid flooring and installed fixtures, scraped grout and assembled frames. Every now and then youths moved through, sweeping up dust, always away from you.

It suddenly became clear that that was why you were so far back in line, why you'd been assigned a decorative brick, something that would be placed near the very end of the construction. There would be no dust then. Gratitude swelled in your chest, but you said nothing. There was singing now, simple, repetitive melodies that sounded like work songs.

Every hour, volunteers carted huge, heated cauldrons around the lines and groups of human spectators, dipping out hot drinks like witch's potions, and it was possible that there was a simple sort of magic in things like hot chocolate, strong coffee, and buttered rum on a cold day.

The building went up faster than you thought possible, the widows, doors, and lights being set into place as auroras began ribboning across the sky.

Finally, there was one brick left. You lifted it up, as the singing seemed to intensify, scooped some mortar from the pail, and fitted it all into the only remaining slot. Giving the brick a light pat to make sure it was secure, you turned back to the assembled crowd.

“We did it.” You said, and the cheering began.

[multibug]

Passion Fruit Lip Gloss

AO3

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U SO MUCH @emsylcatac

tags: identity reveal, fluff, kissing, aged-up characters, slight crack

Marinette adjusts the bedazzled party hat atop her head, the bright gold a stark contrast to her jet black hair. It doesn’t exactly go with her outfit of choice, though she’s not necessarily angry at it. 

It was either that or the bedazzled green tiny cowboy hat.-

(“Green?!” she had asked Alya, when she was showing Marinette ideas about what to do for the hats.

“For our school colors, silly. We probably won’t use them anyway.” 

Alya did end up using them in the end.) 

Marinette’s wearing a peach-colored long-sleeve silk button up with thin red and white stripes vertically lining it. It’s tucked into a pair of black shorts with a leather belt. 

In a moment of pure hastiness, she had chosen her tallest thigh high black heels, with a heel that raised her three full inches over her normal height. 

A small beret keeps one side of her hair pinned back so her ear is exposed. She tied a thin choker around her neck to complete the look and a small touch of makeup with glossy lips. 

It’s passion fruit flavor. 

The clock hanging on the wall reads 23h00, giving Marinette a good hour and a half before she can beg off feigning tiredness as her excuse so Alya doesn’t call her a party pooper. It’s not that Marinette doesn’t like to party per say, it’s that she’s not exactly the third wheel type. 

She’s had more than enough of it the last few days, thank you very much. 

All of their friends are paired up with someone, whether it’s platonic or not. Alya and Nino, Kim and Ondine, Luka and XY—a big shocker to all of their friends with how much Luka despised him back in the day. There’s the obvious Juleka and Rose still holding strong, Kagami and Chloé, another eye-opener when they revealed it to their friends earlier last month. 

Ivan and Mylène, who endured a long-distance relationship for a while before Ivan and his family moved back to Paris in August. Nathaniel and Marc, who sadly weren’t around a lot to cause Marinette much of a heartache, but enough nonetheless. 

Even Alix and Max, two entirely platonic friends, were enough to make Marinette feel like she was third wheeling. 

They aren’t doing it on purpose, at least Marinette thinks they aren’t, yet the longing to have someone on this chilly New Years Eve is almost unbearable. Almost. 

A mix of something fruity and strong loiters in her hand long enough to help kick the feeling. 

“Girl, what are you doing all the way over here by yourself?” Alya gently bumps her hip into Marinette’s, eyeing her over the top of her straw as she takes a sip of her drink. “You’ve been off all night!” 

Alya’s cowboy hat is nearly slipping off her head at this point, though it looks as though the redhead hasn’t noticed. 

Marinette stifles a giggle, shoving her half-filled drink into Alya’s free hand. She watches in bemusement as part of the drink sloshes to the floor and goes about fixing the small hat on top of Alya’s head. “There! All fixed.” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to avoid my question,” Alya remarks with a sharply raised eyebrow. 

“Me? Trying to avoid your question? Alya, you must be drunker than you think!” Marinette quickly takes the drink back from Alya’s hand and downs the rest of it, throwing an overly enthusiastic thumbs up in its wake. 

“I’m on my first drink, M,” Alya deadpans. 

Pursing her lips together, Marinette shrugs her shoulder sheepishly. “Sorry?” 

The song changes from a slower song to a more upbeat one, the accompanying lights Nino installed in his and Alya’s apartment changing to the tune of it. 

Alya knocks back the rest of her drink and slams the cup onto a nearby counter, a devious glint in her eyes. 

Oh no. 

“Come dance with me, M!” Her hand encircles Marinette’s wrist, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor whether Marinette wants to or not. 

Marinette nearly trips over her heels in an attempt to keep up with Alya’s longer legs, knowing it's fruitless to argue with Alya when she has her mind set to something. 

Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar tall blond squeezes past them with relative ease, Marinette briefly making eye contact with them. Time feels as though it slows down, Marinette’s lips parting slightly as she peers into the bright eyes of Adrien, who she hasn’t seen since Nino threw him a spectacular 19th birthday party in September. 

A birthday party that Marinette still can’t remember to this day. 

All she recalls is getting extremely plastered after seeing Adrien pictured with a girl in his newest edition of Vogue Paris. He hadn’t spoken about whether the girl was his girlfriend at the time, yet seeing them together had her feeling as though she was on fire. 

Months of Marinette working towards getting over him just for her to realize it’s seemingly useless. 

He’s always going to have a special place in her heart, she suspects. 

His eyes soften as soon as he realizes it's her, his lips curving into a beautiful smile that outperforms all of his photoshoot pictures by a landslide. His hair’s grown slightly longer since she’s last seen him, curling around the back of his ear—a bit reminiscent of their collège days. 

Adrien’s still just as gorgeous as she remembers. 

“You look good,” she squeaks out over the bass of the music, inwardly screaming at herself to shut up. 

“Thank you—” he cuts himself off as Alya drags Marinette across the room, his hand outstretched in reaching towards her. 

Gosh, how she yearns to see if it’s as soft as it looks, even in the dim multi-colored lighting. 

“Honey, I think the liquor is getting to you,” Alya whisper-yells into her ear, a tiny smirk lingering on her face. 

Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head, the party hat sliding with the movement. “No way, Al! I haven’t been drinking like that. Only enough for some liquid courage, you know?” 

Just then, she trips over the heel of her boot and nearly forces them to the floor from using Alya as leverage. Thankfully, Alya was standing close enough to the wall to support them before that happened. 

“Sure, babe. I’ll make sure either Nino or I take you home later.” 

Sticking her tongue out at Alya, she sets her empty drink onto the nearest flat surface and throws her arms around Alya’s neck, losing herself to the beat of the music. Her hips move in time with the songs, some she faintly remembers, and others she’s never heard of. 

Alya’s close enough to her that she begins to feel a bit sweaty as the songs pass. 

At some point while Hot in Herre by Nelly is playing, Nino saddles up to them with drinks in his hands. 

“Babe, I think she’s had enough,”Alya all but snaps.

Nino shoots her a look that says relax without actually saying it. 

“Thanks, Nino! You’re a real pal.” Marinette loops her arm through his and leans her head against his bicep, taking a sip from the drink he gives her. “Yuck, water.” 

“Yeah, you are a real pal,” Alya says with a fond grin, pressing a slightly sweaty kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, love.” 

Marinette huffs. “I take it back. You’re not my pal.” She ruins this statement by tightening her grip on his arm. 

“Ooh, she’s clingy tonight. Are you drunk, Nette?” 

“I’m not drunk. I’m just abnormally tipsy is all! I think it might just be hitting me now. Oh dear, maybe the water is a good idea.” Frowning, she sips at the water with her nose scrunched, a small pout forming on her face. 

Raising her arm up to stare at the watch on her hand, she squints her eyes and is barely able to make out the time: 23h50. 

Another New Years Eve, another kissless year. 

“Hey guys! Kim is looking for you two. He said something about a major spill in the kitchen?” 

It’s Adrien, dressed in a light blue—is that Givenchy?!—cotton button-up with yellow and green flowers scattered on it. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the shirt itself is tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of brown chelsea boots. 

It suits him well, so much so that she clenches her jaw to stop it from dropping.

Snap out of it. 

Marinette blinks owlishly at Adrien, the liquor causing her head to feel fuzzy. 

“I don’t want to leave Nette alone—”

Adrien laughs softly, hands shoved into his pockets as he interrupts, “Nino, I can take care of Mar while you guys go help Kim, yeah?” 

“I am not a child.” Marinette detaches herself from Nino and stands proudly, chin held high. “I can take care of myself!” 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Adrien replies gently, as to not spook her. “I’ll just be around to make sure you’re okay in the process, is that cool?” 

He’s so nice. It warms her heart. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Cool, let’s go.” He slings an arm over her shoulder languidly and smiles down at her. 

Her heart races. 

“Do you want to go onto the balcony to watch the fireworks? Nino and Alya said it’s off limits, but I’m sure they’ll make an exception for us, right guys?” 

Alya winks over at Marinette as Adrien’s head turns away to glance at Nino, and she replies, “Yeah, go for it.” 

A blush rises on her cheeks, heat stinging her face. She’s going to kill Alya. 

“C’mon, Mar, we’re out this bitch.” Adrien steers them over to the balcony and easily has them through the sliding doors within seconds.

It drowns out the party lingering behind them. 

Glancing down at her wrist, Marinette notes that her watch reads 23h55. Five minutes until midnight. Time feels as though it’s gone so fast yet so slow, strangely enough. 

She shivers, though the sensation is mostly coming from her stockings as her shirt’s fairly thick. She’s surprised when she feels a weight on her shoulders. 

Out of thin air, Adrien produces a heavy bomber jacket that warms her to the core immediately. Maybe he grabbed it on their way out without her realizing it? Whatever the case may be, she’s very grateful for the heat seeping into her body while they’re out in the frigid Parisian air. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs in response, her arms crossing to grab either side of the jacket and hold it around her body. 

“Of course,” he replies, shooting her the same smile from earlier. 

It warms her more than the jacket does. 

“You know,” he starts, hands twitching on the balcony railing, as he glances from the beautiful city view to her face. “I have so much to talk to you about. So much to say. Now isn’t the right time obviously, as you’ve been drinking—”

Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m perfectly coherent, Adrien.” 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he defends easily, his arm groping her elbow to ground her. “I’m just saying that I think this is a conversation where both of us should be completely sober and open to hearing the topic at hand.” 

What does he mean by that? She’s not sure where she should be confused and worried or elated that he wants to talk to her about something serious. Either way, it’s puzzling her already fuzzy brain to the point where she bites down on her lower lip and lets out a huff unknowingly. 

“Is it bad?” she finally asks, eyes flickering to her watch. 

23h58. 

“No, no! It’s not bad at all.” He squeezes her elbow reassuringly and smiles warmly at her, eyes glittering even in the dim light that shines above them. “I’m hoping it’ll be a good conversation, though I want you to remember it. That’s why I’m waiting.” 

Waiting. Good. it’s good. For a good conversation. Ugh. Her brain hurts. 

“Okay,” Marinette murmurs, blinking up at him slightly confused. She returns the smile once she notices his, it being too contagious for her not to. “Okay, I believe you.” 

He hasn’t removed his hand from her elbow. She hasn’t shaken him off either. 

Beyond them, miles and miles away, in the sea of twinkling lights and crowds of people, fireworks explode into the night sky as bright sensations. They light up the dark with their vibrant colors and intoxicating patterns, making it irresistibly hard to look away. 

The second she does, her eyes are drawn to another light, this one alive. 

Adrien, who is watching the fireworks with an expression of wonder. A tilt to his eyebrows and a small drop of his jaw, cheekbones dipping high with the shadow of the night. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asks, rather than wishing him a Happy New Years. Rather than stare at the beautiful swirls and patterns happening adjacent to her. She’s too focused on the beautiful boy in front of her, whether he knows she’s talking about him or not. 

It has to be said.

He lets out a small chuckle and nods his head, free hand rubbing at the back of his head as he whispers, “Yeah, it sure is.” 

“Bonne Année, Adrien, “ she whispers, so gently that she’s unsure as to if he’s heard it. 

Wonder-filled eyes flickering over to her helps in answering her question.. He grins impossibly wide, all of his teeth showing so it’s nearly comical, yet it’s so unabashedly Adrien that she can’t help but return it for a second time tonight.

Adrien leans in, and for a second, Marinette truly thinks he’s going to kiss her. Her heart starts stuttering and the color the cold had ripped from her returns to her body so fast it feels like whiplash. 

He doesn’t kiss her. 

And yet, that isn’t the exact truth either, is it?

Lips brush against the apple of her cheek, so light that the touch feels both hot and cold simultaneously. It sends shivers throughout her body and the spot on her skin that his lips linger on burns hotter than the temperature of the sun. 

She can’t think. Her brain is complete mush.

The tip of his cold nose nudges against her cheek afterwards briefly as he leans in to whisper into her ear, “Bonne Année to you as well, Marinette.” 

Her heart continues to flutter until she falls asleep minutes later, curled up in his jacket all while leaning on him.

---

Daylight shines in through the slits of her blinds faster than Marinette would’ve liked, considering the horrible ache in her head. Except, she can’t exactly remember how she made it back to her apartment, which is a weird feat for her. 

She rarely drinks enough to where she doesn’t remember what’s happening—Adrien’s birthday party being an anomaly. 

How did she make it home yesterday? 

Hm, maybe it was Alya or Nino? They aren’t the type to abandon one another in their times of need. even in times of absolute peril. There’s no way they didn’t have some part in getting her home, even if it meant physically seeing that she made it into her apartment building before leaving.

The thought makes her feel all fuzzy inside. 

It could’ve been any of their friends at the party, if she’s honest. She doesn’t remember anything after Hot in Herre played on the dancefloor; hopefully bits and pieces come back as time goes on. 

Oh well, it mustn’t be that important.

Peeling open an eye has her glancing over at her nightstand, a bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water sitting neatly on her otherwise messy cupboard. She makes a move to grab the bottle and water when movement near her balcony door has her freezing in place. 

Chat Noir is standing there, back turned to her—she can even recognize him in horribly-taken photographs—as though he’s trying to sneak out. He turns to glance back at her and she soundly slips her eyes shut, feigning sleep. 

As her balcony door creaks, her eyes open and she watches Chat shut the door and bounce off the balcony with his staff. 

“Tikki?” 

Her small, red friend flies out from her little nest. “Yes, Marinette?” 

“Was Chat Noir just in my room?” Her voice is thick with sleep and slightly hoarse. 

Tikki’s eyes widen and she glances around the room nervously. “No? Were you dreaming? Chat Noir was most definitely not in here!” 

Marinette’s eyes squint up at her. “Don’t lie to me. I just saw him!” 

“Well, then why did you ask me?” Tikki whines, deflating a bit as she floats closer to Marinette. “Yes, Chat Noir was here. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you as you are the Guardian and it’s your decision, but if you don’t, I won’t utter a word.” 

“Will it jeopardize me knowing his identity? I wouldn’t want to do that to him,” Marinette worries, using her thumb and forefinger to toy with her lower lip. 

Stroking her chin thoughtfully, Tikki shrugs. “It may. I can’t say yes or no for sure. It would have to be a risk you’re willing to take.” 

“Ugh, no. I’m not going to do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair.” Marinette sighs, finally opening the bottle of paracetamol and downing two with large gulps of water. “Though I am curious.” 

“As they say, curiosity killed the cat!” Tikki replies with a giggle. 

Face-palming, Marinette groans aloud. “Oh no. He’s rubbing off on you too!” 

---

“Girl, I’m surprised you haven’t called me,” Alya tells her, a few days later, when the New Years resolution goals have already lost their momentum. “I figured I’d get a phone call as soon as you got home.” 

“What are you talking about, Als? Sorry, hold on.” Marinette pauses, readjusting the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her classes haven’t let back in for the semester, yet she’s trying to get a headstart on pinning a new design she’s working on so she doesn’t fall behind. “Okay, go on. I have my brain screwed in now.” 

Things aren’t going according to plan, obviously. 

Alya snorts. “With you and Adrien, duh! Do you seriously not remember it? I thought you weren’t plastered.” 

“I wasn’t plastered! I guess I was just more tipsy than I thought I was.” 

“So, you were drunk?” 

“Shut up.” 

Letting out another round of laughter, Alya says, “Well, I can fill you in if you’d like. It’s pretty juicy.” 

“I don’t know if I want to know,” Marinette groans, rubbing an exasperated hand over her face. 

“Oh come on! It’s not even bad! You did pretty well considering the circumstances!” 

A pin falls to the floor at Alya’s word, forcing Marinette to tell her friend to hold on again. Three minutes later, she successfully finds the pin that somehow hid under the mannequin stand where she couldn’t see it. 

Lucky? Pft. Not Marinette.

“You were saying?” Marinette asks.

Alya fills her in on all of the details rather quickly, from Adrien whisking her away while still being a gentleman about it to them having alone time on the balcony. The story lasts all of a minute, even with Alya’s expertise in story-telling, and it has Marinette’s heart fluttering. 

The puzzle pieces start to connect. 

“Als, I just remembered what happened on the balcony,” Marinette says, eyes slightly wide. 

“Bitch, you better tell me right the fuck now or I’m going to come over to your apartment and sit on you.” 

“You say that as if it’s a threat.” 

“Marinette!” 

Marinette lets out a snort and slaps her knee. She sets the last pin before rolling the mannequin back into its temporary home for the night. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m just playing around, Als!” 

“I love you, babe, but you’re killing me here.” 

“Sorry,” she replies, though she’s really not. 

“.....Marinette?” 

“Oh! Right!” Marinette can hear Alya face-palming over the phone. “Well, all I remember is us talking and him telling me that he has to talk to me about something important. I don’t really remember much else but he kissed me on the cheek, Alya.”

Alya squeals—a sound Marinette’s never heard come from her mouth—and a jostling noise comes from her end. “Holy fuck, M! That’s amazing!” 

“Right? At first I thought he was going to kiss me, but a cheek kiss is just as good nonetheless!” 

“Babe, you were drunk. It’s a good thing he didn’t kiss you. That means he respects you, regardless of whether there’s any feelings or not there.” 

Marinette lets out a small laugh, her heart swelling at Alya’s words. “You always know how to make situations better, don’t you?” 

“It’s kind of my job,” Alya replies. 

“And I love you for it.” 

Alya blows a smooch over the phone. “Mwah! Right back at you.” She pauses, then quickly continues, “Oh! Did he say anything when he left your apartment after he dropped you off?” 

Wait, what? 

Marinette has no recollection of this happening whatsoever. She faintly remembers falling asleep against him—he was just so warm, okay?—but him taking her home? Alya has to be mistaken.

“He took me home? Are you sure? I don’t remember that.” 

“Yeah, he specifically told Nino and I that he’d take you home and then sent us a picture of you tucked in bed that night to ease my worrying. You know how much of a motherly hen I can be sometimes.” 

None of it makes sense. Even if he did take her home that night, why was Chat Noir in her room early in the morning? 

Unless…

No. There’s no way. Absolutely no way that she’s been this blind. No way that Marinette’s this lucky. 

She’d know if her two favorite people in the world—excluding Alya and Nino—were the same person, right? There’s no way that the miraculous could’ve hidden it that well from her that she wouldn’t have noticed.

Except maybe... It had? 

It comes together like whiplash. All of their mannerisms. From the way both Chat and Adrien rub their necks when they’re nervous, or when they make jokes but immediately retract them so as to not hurt the person’s feelings. Both of them having a rough home life and awful dads. 

Piercing green eyes that remind Marinete of a home away from home. 

It reminds her of those times in collège and lycée when Adrien would disappear and reappear whenever she would. She had attributed it to him being afraid of the akumas and finding somewhere safe to hide that entire time. It’s not like it was her place to judge anyone’s ways to cope with what was happening!

The quirks that the both of them share. Two halves of a whole. They merge together beautifully in her mind, filling a void she hadn’t known existed until now. 

Her heart is so, so full. 

“Als. I think I just had the world’s biggest revelation,” she breathes out, sounding absolutely lovesick. 

“What is it?” Nino’s yelling about something incoherent in the background, and Marinette can just faintly hear Adrien’s voice.

“I think I’m in love with Adrien.” Her stomach flutters at her words. 

Alya splutters out a hearty laugh. “Oh, M. We’ve been knew.” 

---

Three days. Marinette’s lived with her secret for three whole days and she’s losing it. 

She begged off spending time with Alya, Nino, and Adrien to try and gather her thoughts. Adrien being Chat is the best possible outcome for a partner she could’ve ever dreamed of, but she wants to tell him how much he means to her without fumbling over her words too much. 

It’ll probably still happen. He is Adrien, for crying out loud.  

Earlier, Marinette transformed so she could write some notes down in her compact in case she gets too flustered. Adrien’s nice enough that he won’t judge her for it, so she’s not too worried.

After a quick application of her favorite passion fruit flavor lip gloss, she sets off for their patrol meetup point. 

“Tikki, I’m so nervous,” she says. 

No response. Yes,. Marinette’s aware that her kwami can’t hear her or speak to her while she’s suited up, yet the hope still lingers for some absurd reason. 

Marinette wholeheartedly blames the nerves.

Spotting Chat—Adrien is difficult. He blends into the shadows so easily that Marinette nearly falls off the building when he blinks his eyes open. She’s lucky that he has fast reflexes to catch her by the waist, because with how out of it she’s been today, she might’ve forgotten to use her yo-yo. 

“Bug! It’s so nice of you to drop in.” 

Oh no. His jokes just make him more attractive. She’s fucked.

Marinette’s hands fall to his biceps, and she’s unsure as to if she wants to tug him closer or push him away at that awful joke that has her heart racing. A look of surprise crosses his face and she squeaks, ducking out of his grip. 

“Thanks,” she replies quietly. 

“You didn’t make fun of my joke. Are you okay?” Concern etches its way onto his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette sees his fingers twitch in her direction. He stops himself as soon as he notices, choosing instead to idly twist the ring on his finger. 

Taking a deep breath, she places her hand over his restless one. “Relax, kitty. I’m okay. Just nervous, because I have to talk to you about something.” 

His eyes widen at her words, lips parting as he exhales a breath. She faintly feels it on her face as he says, “I have something to tell you too. It’s kind of urgent.” 

“You can go first, okay? I can wait a little while longer.” 

Adrien nods, tilting his head to the side with a cute smile on his face. “How much do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Marinette responds instantly. 

It isn’t a lie, either. She genuinely trusts him with her life. Transformed, detransformed, heck, she trusts him blindfolded at this point. 

He nods his head at her words and starts towards her, arms outstretched. Even as he scoops her up into his arms, her trust in him is unabated. “Hold onto me tight and don’t open your eyes until I tell you to, alright?”

“Alright,” she echoes. 

Then, Adrien’s off, running over rooftops at speeds that seem unimaginable when it isn't of her own doing. Her ponytail whips about in the frigid air, Marinette using his neck as a shield from the harsh wind. 

She’s thrown back to Glaciator, where she and Adrien spoke about misfortunes and missed opportunities. He ended up showing her a beautiful scene atop a nearby rooftop, as both Ladybug and Marinette. Thinking back, her racing heart should’ve been a sign that her feelings for Chat weren’t platonic, yet it took years of walking on eggshells for one of them to finally crack. 

“We’re almost there. You good down there?” 

“I’m fine,” she says, laughing into his suit. “This isn’t where I find out you’re going to drop me off a building as a prank, is it?” 

He scoffs, softly landing on what she assumes to be another rooftop. “Hardy har har, Bugaboo.” 

The sound of a door opening and closing lets her know they’ve arrived—apparently it wasn’t a rooftop—and the temptation to look around is higher than she expected. She waits for his approval, wanting him to trust her as much as she trusts him. 

“I’m going to set you down now, okay?” 

Marinette nods into his neck, extending her legs so she can place them on the floor as he lowers her. Her arms stay wrapped around his neck, while her eyes continue to stay closed. 

“I’m going to step back and then you can look.” Adrien lingers for a brief moment, breath fanning over Marinette’s face. 

As he shifts away from her, her arms drop to her sides. Her eyes blink open seconds later and she peers around the bright room a little dazedly. 

They’re in her shared apartment with Alya—in her room. 

Younger Marinette would be freaking out about having Adrien Agreste in her room. 

(Older Marinette isn’t faring much better.) 

For some strange reason, Adrien knowing her identity never popped into her head when he said he had to talk to her. She had no clue as to what it could’ve been—especially not that.

“Oh,” Marinette breathes. 

“Please don’t be mad,” he rushes out, hands shaking about in front of him in a nervous manner. “I couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I know. And I didn’t mean to find out! I swear! It kind of just happened? I can’t even tell you how I found out unless you’re willing to know my identity too—gosh, I’m going to stop talking now.” 

Seeing him so jittery helps to calm the rattling of her heart.

Marinette wordlessly grabs his hand and brings him over to the fluffy rug in the center of her room. She flops on top of it and criss-crosses her legs so he has enough room to do the same opposite her. 

He follows, albeit a confused expression lingers on his face. 

Their hands stay joined together, a nice weight resting on her knee. The tip of his claw is rubbing small circles into her palm, whether he notices it or not. 

“I’m not mad,” she says, the softest of smiles spreading onto her cheeks. “I could never be mad at you, kitty.” 

Adrien lets out a sigh of relief and squeezes her hand, her heart flipping at the fond look he gives her. “Good, good.” 

They stare at one another for a moment too long, before Marinette murmurs fuck it under her breath and detarnsforms. 

His suit is oddly cool against her bare knee, his eyes flickering to their hands then back up to her face. He licks at his lips and breathes out, “Oh.” 

“Hi,” she greets, with a small wave of her free hand. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurts out. 

Marinette lets out a surprised laugh, red peeking out under the dip of his mask. Her voice is teasing as she says,“Thank you, I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me blush or not.” 

“Marinette, please.” 

Hearing him say her name has her heart fluttering, and she detangles their hands to push up onto her knees, crawling towards him. She nudges his legs apart so she can fit between them, arms wrapping around his neck. Her cheek presses against his, the cool material of his suit helping to soothe her burning cheeks. 

Even with the suit protecting him, she can feel the thumping of his heart against her chest. 

“You wanna know my secret?” she asks faintly, as his hands move to settle on her back. 

“Yes, tell me.” His claws rest lightly against the fabric of her shirt. 

Her nose brushes against the tip of his ear and she feels him shudder. “I think you’re really, really cute, Adrien.” 

“Plagg, claws off.” The transformation light has her eyes slipping shut briefly. When she reopens them, Adrien’s sat in front of her with a blinding smile on his face. “Hi.” 

For some reason, she’s brought to tears by the situation. She holds them back the best she can. “Hey.” 

She’s just so happy. 

“I’m so glad it’s you, by the way,” Adrien professes, blinking back his own set of tears. “Like I know I’ve known for a while and all, but this still feels like finding out for the first time.”

“Are you trying to make me cry? You asshole,” she whines, tears sliding down her face.

Before she can reach up and wipe them away on her own, Adrien’s hand is there to do it for her. His touch is so gentle, and instead of returning to its previous position on her back, he tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Adrien. You mean so much to me. And to know that two of my favorite people are the same person? How could I be so lucky?” 

“Two of your favorite people?” His head tilts to the side cutely, his hand idly stroking her jaw. 

A blush returns to her face as she replies, “Yeah, I’m shocked you didn’t know, if I’m honest. I was so obvious about it! I’ve liked you as Adrien for so long, and then as soon as I realized that you’re Chat, all of my feelings for Chat were brought to light.” 

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” he murmurs, licking at his lips. 

“Oh, shut up. Don’t tease me!” 

“I’m not teasing you, Mar! You’re just really cute!” 

Oh god. Her face hides in his shoulder as she emits a small groan, gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt. “I’m going to pass out if you keep talking about me like this.” 

Adrien lets out a laugh that vibrates against her chest. “Well, I don’t want you to pass out, but I need you to know how much I like you.” 

“Adrien,” Marinette squeaks, face digging into his shoulder. 

“Marinette,” Adrien echoes. 

Slowly, she raises her head to shoot a pouty look in his direction. “You’re mean.” 

“You don’t think I’m mean,” he starts, a devious glint in his eyes. Uh oh. “You like me.” 

Marinette’s heart flips as his words, her lip only jutting out further. She tries to maneuver out of his arms, yet he doesn’t budge,  his hand rubbing soothing circles against her back. “I take it back.” 

“No, you’re not allowed to do that. I will cry again!” He widens his slightly bloodshot eyes to prove his point.

“How did you even find out?” she asks, smoothly changing the subject.

“You told me. At my birthday party. You were drunk, so I sat with you for a while and you started rambling about things that didn’t really make sense—”

“Oh no.” 

He sends her a small smile, then says, “Yeah, I hadn’t really believed that you were Ladybug at that point because you were really drunk, yet you mentioned our patrol meeting spot for the week and called ‘Chat’ your annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass and it clicked.” 

“That’s it. I’m leaving and never coming back. Why am I so embarrassing? Annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass? I could’ve lived without knowing I said that to you!” Her forehead drops to lean against his cheek. 

“It was cute! You’re cute and I like you so much, yeah?” His head turns so he can make eye contact with her, their noises brushing with how close they are to one another. 

Marinette really wants to kiss him. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she awaits his response.

“Of course. You really didn’t have to ask, because I’d let you kiss me any day of the week, but I think it’s really nice that you did ask—”

She cuts off his nervous rambling by kissing him, her hand sliding up into his hair at the base of his neck. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest. 

He tastes like flavored lip balm, hand moving from the dip of her back to her hip to hold her steady. 

He tastes familiar. 

It’s weird to think of. She kissed him when Kim became akumatized. According to the picture Alya showed her after hers and Nino’s joint akumatization, they had kissed for whatever reason. 

Their almost kisses come to mind and she feels a different type of heat rise on her cheeks. 

Marinette pulls back with a groan, nearly squeaking as Adrien follows her blindly to press a chaste kiss to her mouth. He lets her slip out of his arms and shove her face into the carpet, a hand trailing gently over her back. 

“Was it that bad?” he jokes, sifting his other hand through her hair. 

“No, oh my gosh. It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of! Your lips are really soft! I just thought of how I tried to kiss you when you faked being a statue all those years ago and now I’m embarrassed!” 

“You’re the cutest ever,” he says, flopping onto his side to lay next to her. He brushes his lips over the shell of her ear and nudges at her cheek with his nose. “Don’t be embarrassed! I’ve said and done so many things in front of you that could be considered embarrassing, but because it’s you, I don’t care.” 

She turns her head and shoots him a look. “You never tried kissing a statue version of me!” 

“And I like you even more for that! Look at us, Mar! We’re 18 and 19 respectively, and we’re laying on your fluffy rug around midnight! Everything about this could be considered embarrassing, except it’s not! Because it’s us.” 

Adrien’s words only make Marinette more attracted to him at this point.

“We’re allowed to be embarrassing, but only when it’s us?” she asks.

He nods, lips quirking into a big smile. “Yes, exactly. I won’t be embarrassing with anyone else but you. You’re my embarrassing person, Marinette.” 

“My heart shouldn’t be fluttering at you calling us embarrassing,” she whines, laying her hand on his chest. 

“Embarrassingly in love idiots?” he whispers, finding her hand to tangle their fingers together so he can bring them up to his lips and brush his mouth over the back of her hand.

Marinette exhales a quiet laugh and says, “Very embarrassingly in love.” 

They fall asleep like that, his arm wrapped around her waist while she lays her head on his chest, breaths mingling together. 

It’s the best sleep she’s had in ages.

---

Marinette’s phone buzzing wakes her up the next morning. 

She fumbles around for the device, letting out a small aha as her fingers grip the electronic. It’s hard for her to open her and stare at the small screen, yet when she notices it’s a message from Adrien, her eyes snap open.

Wait, when did she get in her own bed?

Quickly opening the message, she reads it with increasing vigor as the message goes on.

Adrien: Hey, Mar. I couldn’t stay long after you fell asleep because I had a photoshoot this morning and you looked so cute that I didn’t want to wake you. I feel like I did a poor job at letting you know how I felt yesterday, so I’m going to say it here so it’s clear and you know, okay? (Don’t judge me!!!) 

I like you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You have such amazing qualities that I admire and adore. You’re a leader who isn’t afraid to stick up for what she believes in, whether you’re in the suit or out of it! You make the world a better place just by being you. I couldn’t think of a better person being Ladybug, and it makes me so happy that it’s you.

I’d love to get to know you more. I think we both know that we click really well at this point, but I want to do this right with you. We’re a team, Bug. You and me. So, what do you say? 

Her hand groggily slaps the call button, wiping back a few tears that slide down her cheeks from his works. 

The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hey, Mar. Did you get my message—”

“You stupid cat! I’m sitting here at eight in the morning crying because of you! I loved every second of it.” 

He lets out a soft chuckle, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “So does that mean it’s a yes?” 

“We should go to the museum and reenact our statue scene as our date,” Marinette suggests, a large grin making its way onto her face. 

Adrien nearly chokes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want it any other way, little bug.”

[ratonnhhaketon]

It’s Always Been You

Read on Ao3

Summary: Bloodhound and the reader keep getting pitted against each other in the arena, thanks to the jerks in the Apex Games Commission. After one particular, mentally-tolling match for Y/N, they agree that they've had enough. Bloodhound has had enough, and shows them just how much they mean to them with one simple action.

TW: Canon-typical violence (depictions of shooting/death in the Apex Games), Fluff

A/N: I really wanted to make the reader gender neutral but I hope using they/them for two characters isn’t too confusing. Enjoy!!

Being in a relationship with a coworker is never advised, no matter what field you work in. But, when your line of work is to battle to the death in an arena regularly, it’s certainly not advised. 

However, these rules didn’t seem to apply to Y/N and Bloodhound. They both aimed to keep their relationship private at first, PDA consisting of heartfelt glances to each other in group meetings or the occasional hand holding under tables, nothing more. But, after a legends-exclusive trip to the Paradise Lounge where Y/N may or may not have had a little too much to drink and started to get touchy-feely, the secret was practically out. Somehow the Apex Games Commission got word of the relationship and decided that “two lovers having to battle it out” was better for keeping views up, so they were rarely placed on the same team. Today’s game was no exception. 

The team was cleaning up after a run in with a squad by the building overlooking Bunker. A care package had landed not too far from where they were looting and Y/N barely even heard Octane announce he was going to check it out before he sprinted off down the hill.

“Kraber here!” His voice cracked over the comms. 

Y/N’s head snapped up and called out a “Dibs!” over the comms before they even started moving. They slid the whole way down the hill, instinctively dropping their empty Sentinel and exchanging it for the legendary weapon before retreating back up the hill and into the safety of the building. They ducked into a corner by the open window in the building and equipped the weapon, almost smiling at the oh so familiar feeling of the sniper in their hands. 

They looked over the arena around them, scanning the hills and valleys for a target. Gunfire stirred up on the hill across the small river from them. Y/N adjusted their grip on the weapon and started mumbling numbers out loud to themself, their brain working overtime to calculate the correct trajectory for a clean kill. 400 meters, plus damage drop-off…

A single shot rang out, curving through the air and going straight through the enemy’s skull. 

Attention: new kill leader appointed. 

Bloodhound’s masked eyes jumped from their hiding spot under a building up to the screens hanging from Bunker’s entrance to their left and were met with Y/N’s banner, featuring them looking menacingly at the camera with their prized purple Kraber, hanging to announce their new status. They pulled themself away and returned to shielding back up to return to the fight their teammates were still dealing with. 

Y/N, of course, paid the announcement no mind as they continued to scan over the area in search of their next target. What they didn’t expect was to be met with a familiar set of red goggles hiding quite far from them. Their target was distracted and in perfect view for a clean headshot, but something inside made them hesitate to pull the trigger. Instead they just looked on as Bloodhound finished shielding up and initiated their ultimate ability, watching their goggles glow a bright red before they ran into battle. Y/N waited in their perch as Bloodhound’s ultimate drained while they took out a few enemies and their goggles returned to their regular hazey maroon. As they ducked down to revive a teammate, the sniper lined up another shot- this time aiming for the chest so as to only down them. 

Just as the third member of their team was pulled to their feet, a single bullet flew through the air and directly into what was left of Bloodhound’s body shield, making them fall to their knees. Upon seeing them fall, Octane stimmed and sprinted down the hill to finish off the teams that were fighting. Y/N and the third member of their team, a random newbie that neither of the legends had met before, followed suit. 

The trio had managed to successfully third-party both squads that were fighting, but only one had fully died and dropped their death boxes. It was clear that one member of the remaining team had managed to snag a self-revive knockdown shield, and Y/N knew exactly who it was. Octane and the newbie on their team shared a knowing glance as they approached Bloodhound, who had tried to crawl away from the fight in an attempt to get themself back on their feet. 

Y/N kneeled down to be eye-level with their significant other. Their lips curled into a sad smile as they said, “Hello, my love.”

Bloodhound let out a grunt of pain as they clutched at their side. “A beautiful shot, elskan. It is truly an honor to fall by your hand.” 

Y/N pulled their small knife from its sheath on their belt and dug it into their opponent’s abdomen. As they pulled it from their body, Bloodhound, along with their teammates, all instantly dropped their death boxes. Y/N stood up as the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena’s speakers. 

Attention: A winner has been appointed. 

Several drones began to circle the team while Octane and the third member celebrated, with Y/N showing their excitement with a slight smile. 

These are your Apex Champions. 

~~~~~

After the game had concluded and the legends were picked up by the dropship, Y/N made a beeline to the infirmary wing. There was a nurse exiting Bloodhound’s room, who graciously left the door ajar when she saw that day’s Champion approaching. They gave the nurse a nod and smile of appreciation before entering the room and softly shutting the door. 

“Hey stranger,” they said quietly to not disturb the hunter, even though they inevitably knew they were approaching. “You feeling okay?”

Bloodhound sat up in the bed, “Just sore, but I vill be fine.” Y/N sat down in the chair next to the bed and scooted it to be a bit closer.  “I am very proud of you, elskan min. You have shown much strength in the arena today.” Bloodhound’s gloved hand extended forward and lightly gripped their hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Y/n brought their hands up to their lips and pressed a soft kiss to Bloodhound’s knuckles. “I just wish..” they began to say before looking at their feet and sighing. “I hate that they keep splitting us up. I hate having to finish you off instead of fighting by your side.”

A pained groan next to them caused their head to shoot back up and see their significant other moving to sit facing towards them with their legs off of the bed. They watched as the hunter pulled their hand away to remove their gloves before placing both of their hands around Y/N’s face. Their palms were cold, something they had realized must have been a result of the cooling accident they had been told about, but it was a comforting feeling. A grounding feeling. 

“I have spoken with Ajay and Natalie, and they both believe ve should speak with the Games Commission. If they do not stop treating us like this I vill stop participating in the games.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Blooth, no, don’t say that. I know how much these games mean to you, don’t make me be the reason you quit.”

Bloodhound glanced quickly to the door, making sure it was securely shut, and back at their beloved sitting in front of them. They wordlessly pulled their hands back from their face and up to their helmet, pulling it up and setting it on the clean bedding next to them. Next were their goggles and hood, which came off in one simultaneous and swift motion. Soft red curls that were intricately braided out of their face with an undercut that desperately needed shaved were exposed to the world and Y/N sat stunned. Their eyes were a delicate blue that almost seemed grey, with a scar slicing through the left eyebrow. 

A small hiss brought Y/N back from their thoughts of admiration as Bloodhound unhinged the clips on their respirator. It was last to fall on the bed with the rest of their equipment, and they sat there feeling as exposed as the day they were born. 

Y/N had heard the story of the cooling accident, as they had always wondered why their beloved’s body temperature felt so unnaturally low, but they never imagined it would leave scars on their face. Faded, light blue lighting bolts shot across their face, extending from their mouth and nose area. It looked almost like veins, or tree branches and the roots were their respiratory system. 

Many things had been communicated without words. Undying amounts of love and a trust that took years of the legends knowing each other to gain. They had shown a side of themself that even the doctors and nurses on the ship had not seen yet, proving that Y/N meant more to them than any title or win in the games ever could. 

“Bloothundr,” they said breathlessly, barely above a whisper. They raised a hand towards their face but pulled back hesitantly, not wanting to make the hunter uncomfortable. Bloodhound nodded silently, and they cupped their hands around their cheeks. A soft thumb lightly traced a scar that extended from the corner of their lip back towards their hairline. 

“Y/N,” they spoke up, looking at the person seated in front of them with nothing but adoration in their eyes. “I love you. The games do not matter, as long as you vill be by my side.” 

They leaned in, gently resting their foreheads together and smiled with tears in their eyes.“I love you too, Blooth. Always.”

[loftec]

Hi! in this prompt, could we know about Mickey's ex boyfriend or something? I think his name was Matt?

thank you for participating + pre NTW - Mickey's POV 👀

Anon: tell us about Matt

Yevgeny: his name was Mark

Mickey, pinching the bridge of his nose: Martin, and no. I’m not gonna tell you about Martin.

Narrator: little did Mickey know that he had zero say on the matter, let’s goooo.

April 13, 2013. Saturday.

Mickey is just off the L when his phone rings. For a moment, he considers ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as he lights up a cigarette and bounds down the metal steps. The list of people likely to call him is very limited, and most of that list is very welcome to fuck off to voicemail on a Saturday evening. Work can fuck off, telemarketers can doubly fuck off. On this particular Saturday, even his extended family can fuck off. It might be Martin, wondering where he is, but he can quite frankly also fuck off, seeing as Mickey is no more than five minutes away from their agreed rendezvous.

That only leaves one, and the thought alone is enough for Mickey to step out of the flow of people rushing to and from the platform, and check the damned call. Seeing the ID, he quickly picks up, pressing the phone to his ear.

”What the fuck?” he asks, unsure if he should be annoyed or alarmed and figuring this would best cover a bit of both.

”Hey dad,” his son says, unexpectedly.

”Yev?” Mickey says, inching towards annoyed. At least his son is unharmed enough to dial a phone, so it can’t be too bad. ”What’s wrong? Where’s Sonya?”

”She’s right here,” Yevgeny says, he sounds fine, normal, good, ”we can’t find the cake poking thing.”

Staring at the empty space in front of him, Mickey feels the rest of his mood swan dive head-first into annoyed. ”The what?”

”The thing we use to poke cakes, to check if they’re done? We can’t find it and we need it, the cake is almost done.”

Taking the forgotten cigarette from his lips, Mickey angles the burning end away from his face as he rubs at the deep line between his eyebrows.

”Kid,” he says, trying to sound calm, ”give the phone to Sonya.”

There are some muffled noises over the line, and then Mickey can hear his son’s distant voice. ”He wants to talk to you.”

”Hey Mickey,” Sonya comes on, breezy as anything. ”Is it supposed to be in the cutlery drawer? Been rifling through that thing for a good minute already.”

”Are you fucking kidding me?”

”What? It’s not such a weird guess, is it? I’d say it’s cutlery adjacent at least.”

”I’ve been outta the fucking house for less than forty minutes!” Mickey says, calmly. He is absolutely not screeching loud enough to have people on the street give him concerned looks. ”And you call me about some fucking–, I don’t have anything like that! Who has a thing specifically for poking cakes?!”

”Oh please,” Sonya scoffs. ”Plenty people do, you being one of them!”

He wants to point out that this is categorically not what he meant when he said ’call me if there’s an emergency’, but he’s got a feeling that this is only going to get him into an argument about the definition of ’emergency’ that he’s not going to win, and besides, he’s got bigger fish to fry right now.

”I absolutely do fucking not!” he splutters, glaring at a couple throwing him side-eye as they rush past him. ”Are you outta your mind?”

”I know you have one, because I gave it to you,” Sonya says, clanking sounds in the background from where she’s still presumably rifling through Mickey’s shit. ”Remember? When you moved in? I got it in Sweden when I was visiting for my cousin’s wedding. It was hand crafted, Mickey, you better not have thrown it out!”

”That thing?” Mickey balks, smoothly electing to not point out that they both know Sonya came home from her trip with like ten of those in her luggage and then spent the next two years giving them to all her friends and family whenever she’d forgot about getting gifts for an occasion. ”I stuck it in Merida.”

The silence on the other end of the line is palpable, and it takes a second for Mickey to hear what he just said.

”Who is Merida, and do I want to know why you stuck my hand-carved Swedish cake poker in her?”

Mickey sighs, and decides that he doesn’t have to answer that. He can try, at least. ”Tell Yev it’s in Merida.”

”I most certainly will not tell your sweet summer child that you’ve stuck the cake poker in–,” her increasingly high pitched voice abruptly falls to a hiss, ”–Merida, who is Merida?”

Luckily, Mickey can hear his son in the background, saving him from having to explain. ”It’s this thing?”

There’s another silence, Mickey takes the opportunity to smoke and accept the inevitable.

”Two questions,” Sonya says, her usual good humor back in her voice. ”One, you stuck my hand-carved Swedish souvenir in a potted plant? And two, you named the plant Merida?”

”It’s cartoon character–,” Mickey starts, before realizing what he’s saying and cutting himself off, ”I didn’t name it, obviously.”

”But you still call it by its name.”

”Whatever,” Mickey blows out a puff of smoke and can’t help smiling. Sometimes he just has to stop and take stock of how fucking ridiculous his life has turned out. And how much he fucking likes it, despite himself. ”Congratulations, you found it. Any other emergency you needed me for, or can I get back to my–”

He swallows, catching himself mid-sentence, suddenly unsure of how he intended to end it.

”–thing.”

”You’re there already?” Sonya asks, sounding genuinely remorseful now. ”Sorry, you left so late I thought for sure you’d missed the train and would still be en route, or I wouldn’t have told Yev to call. How’s the date going?”

Mickey swallows again, throat dry. He starts walking down the street in the direction of the bar.

”It’s fine, still on the way,” he says, ”and it’s not a date.”

”Like heck it isn’t,” Sonya tuts, ”you’re out on a Yev weekend for the first time since I’ve known you, and I saw that shirt you’re wearing.”

He runs a hand self-consciously along his belt, his button-down still tucked in and in place. He refuses to worry about it.

”You looked good, Mickey, I meant to tell you,” Sonya continues, and she doesn’t even sound like she’s teasing anymore which Mickey knows even less how to handle. ”And you’re undeniably on a date.”

”Shut up,” Mickey mutters and smiles to himself when Sonya laughs. Feeling a little more himself, he chucks his cigarette to the curb and stops to look across the road at his destination. ”Maybe.”

He hadn’t really considered the possibility, before Martin asked him. But the sex was always good, they got along really well, and when Martin looked up at him from his bed as Mickey was pulling on his jeans, his hair rumpled and lips still shiny, and asked if he wanted to go to some kind of hipster showcase gig together, Mickey had barely even hesitated.

”About time, too,” Sonya says. ”Was starting to think the guy wasn’t all there, taking his sweet time. Maybe he was waiting for you to ask.”

”Ey,” Mickey shakes his head, ”it’s only been a couple of months.”

”Try six! That’s half of a whole year.”

”Try minding your own fucking business,” Mickey says and frowns. Maybe it has been that long since the first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they’ve been fucking on the regular the whole time since then.

”Just happy for you, Mickey,” Sonya says, like it’s an easy thing for her to say. ”You like him, right?”

He doesn’t say yes, but he doesn’t outright deny it either, which probably tells Sonya everything she needs to know.

”Gotta go,” he says instead, ”and don’t call me again unless it’s an actual fucking emergency. See you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if she’s got something to say to that, he hangs up and shoves the phone back into his pocket. Staring at the unassuming building across the street, he allows himself a moment to take it all in. He’s just casing the joint before he enters, it’s normal fucking behavior. He isn’t stalling.

It doesn’t look too busy from the outside, there’s no line, and no bouncer or guard by the propped open double doors. The walls of the building are littered with layers of posters, on both sides of the doors and across the covered windows. Not much can be seen through the doors from his vantage point, but he assumes that it’s a front room leading to whatever’s going on inside the building.

There’s a guy standing off to the side of the doors, smoking. He’s got a lanyard shoved down his back pocket, ID badge dangling in clear sight. Most likely someone working at the bar, out on a break. His shoulders are hunched and he’s got a phone clutched to his ear, head bent and lips pressed together in a thin line. He nods at whatever is being said to him over the phone. Mickey looks up at the worn sign above the door.

”Fuck it,” Mickey mutters and, pushing aside the last of his niggling doubt, makes his way across the street and through the doors. It’s dark enough inside that his eyes need a second to adjust, before he quickly orients himself and heads toward the noise and lights leaking out from behind a set of swing doors beyond the coat check.

”Excuse me!” someone pipes up behind him, and he turns back to raise his eyebrows at the girl standing behind a counter by the entrance. ”We’ve got a showcase tonight, you need to buy a ticket.”

She makes an apologetic face as Mickey gets closer and pulls out his wallet.

”25,” she says when he gives her a questioning look.

”Christ,” he mutters, but forks over the money. ”This better be good.”

”We’ve got a really exciting lineup tonight, all local acts,” she says, obviously relieved now that he’s payed and she can tuck away his hard earned cash in her little lock box. ”I’m hoping I can take a break soon so I can sneak a peak of the headliner.”

She winks at him as she hands over a ticket, and he has zero fucking clue what he’s supposed to do with any of that.

”Okay?” he says and accepts the ticket. ”What’s this for? I’m already here.”

”In case you want to go in and out,” she says, and then tacks on when she seems to remember something she’s supposed to say; ”there’s no smoking in the venue.”

Mickey shrugs and pockets the ticket, biting back the urge to tell her that there’s no fucking smoking anywhere these days, thank you very much. The girl is still smiling at him when he turns his back on her and heads for the bar.

”Have fun!”

Finally inside, the place seems to be a collection of smaller rooms with some walls knocked down to make a larger, oddly shaped space. The bar is crowded, three bartenders moving around each other and pouring drinks in the narrow space behind it, and all the tables tucked away in the dark half-room next to it seem occupied. In the main room, Mickey finds the small, raised stage with a bigger crowd gathered in front of it. There’s a guy on stage, talking about something and looking like he’s about to cry while getting thoroughly ignored by a majority of his audience.

Mickey included, when he spots Martin a bit to the left of the stage. He’s talking to a couple of people he must have met in the crowd, smiling in that carefree way of his, eyes squeezed together and head tossed back when he laughs. He seems to do that a lot, laugh and talk and make friends wherever he goes. Open about himself in casual throw-away lines as he lets Mickey into his apartment, takes his clothes off, catching his breath, seeing Mickey off again. It’s nice seeing him out here, in the real world.

Maybe this could work. Mickey really should have tried harder to be on time, leaving your date to make new friends while he waits for you to show up seems like a bad move, now that he thinks about it.

Shit. Here goes nothing.

”Hey!” Martin exclaims, face lighting up with a wide smile when Mickey walks into his line of sight. He doesn’t sound upset, really doesn’t look it either when he pulls Mickey in for a quick kiss. It’s over before Mickey’s had the chance to do much else than blink in surprise.

”I’m late,” he acknowledges and hopes Martin will take the attempt at an apology for what it is.

”It’s fine,” Martin gins at him, tilting his head in the direction of the stage, ”you haven’t missed anything good.”

”– have you ever noticed that?” the guy on stage mutters into the microphone, ”I mean–, uh, I’ve noticed, that–, sometimes–”

Tuning the guy out again, Mickey looks past his date at the two people still standing on his other side, regarding them curiously.

��We got a problem?” he asks them, raising his eyebrows further when the woman just smiles at him.

”Oh,” Martin says, angling himself so the four of them make a little semi-circle in the crowd. ”My friends, Nora, Ethan, this is Mickey.”

Mickey stares at the side of Martin’s face for a moment, before he notices Ethan’s outstretched hand. He feels confused enough to grab it in a quick handshake. The woman, Nora, just keeps smiling.

”Nice to meet you, Mickey,” she says, clearly hiding something. People generally aren’t this smiley without an agenda, in Mickey’s experience.

”Sure,” Mickey says, glancing at Martin for some clue as to what he’s supposed to do now.

”You wanna go get yourself a drink?” Martin asks, pointing in the direction of the bar. ”This comedy train wreck should be over soon, hopefully.”

”Sure,” Mickey says again, wrong-footed by the whole odd situation and frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the feeling that he’s made a huge mistake.

”Go with him!” Nora says, making Martin take a half-step closer to Mickey by shoving lightly at his shoulder. ”We’ll save the spot.”

She gives Martin a pointed look and some kind of silent communication seems to happen between them, ending with her looking victorious and Martin dropping his head back with an exaggerated sigh. Then he turns to Mickey and playfully gestures for him to lead the way.

”Sorry about her,” he says once they’ve reached the bar, leaning in closer to speak directly into Mickey’s ear. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on his neck stand on end. ”I keep telling her to back off, but she’s got it in her head that we’re doing something we’re not.”

Mickey swallows and turns his head to look at Martin when he leans back.

”And what are we doing?” he asks, and he doesn’t realize how it sounds until he sees Martin’s gobsmacked expression.

He lets out a startled laugh. ”Are we really gonna talk about this now? Here?”

And technically, Mickey agrees with him. He really doesn’t want to have the ’what are we’ conversation, and he definitely doesn’t want to have it now, here. But he’s already said it, and now he needs to know.

”Maybe,” he says and frowns when Martin just stares at him for a moment.

”I don’t know?” Martin eventually says. ”We have fun, right? I didn’t think you wanted it to be more than that?”

Mickey can barely hear his own thoughts over the noise from the bar, but he can practically feel his heartbeat in his throat. ”Do you?”

Martin makes a pained face, like it’s an involuntary reaction to the mere idea, before he shrugs helplessly and gives Mickey an uncertain smile.

”We don’t really have anything in common, Mickey,” he says. ”I don’t know, I just don’t see it going anywhere.”

”Thank you for participating,” the guy on stage says, his voice louder and verging on hysterical. It gives Mickey a reason to look away from Martin’s face for a second, hating the sympathetic twist to his lips. He feels like a fool.

”You suck!” someone yells in the audience.

”Yeah? Right back at you buddy!”

”Get off the stage!”

”Sure,” Mickey says, and nods. ”No, sure. You’re right.”

”Sorry?” Martin says and grins when Mickey rolls his eyes. ”And we can still have fun, right? Hey, I’ll buy you a drink! What do you want?”

”Anything, a beer,” Mickey tries to focus on Martin, on the list of prices pinned to the wall behind the bar, but there is suddenly too much noise, too many people, too much… stuff. ”I just gotta–”

He doesn’t know what he’s trying to say, so he stops. He doesn’t know what he wants, but getting out of this room would be a good start.

Martin looks confused, and then tuts reproachfully when Mickey pulls out his pack of smokes and gestures in the direction of the doors. He hates it when Mickey smokes, always makes him brush his teeth before they do anything. Guess that’s another thing they don’t have in common. Mickey hadn’t given it much thought.

He leaves Martin by the bar to fend for the bartender’s attention on his own and goes back outside, ignoring the surprised look on the girl by the door when he strides past her. Once outside, he’d hoped the fresh air and relative silence would knock him back on track, but it doesn’t. Everything is exactly the same, only now he can add ’running away like a pussy’ to the list of tonight’s embarrassments. He hates this, this isn’t him.

He should go back inside, show Martin and his friends that he doesn’t give a shit. Have a couple of beers, get through the night, make that asshole suck his dick until he can’t feel anything but a warm mouth and his own pleasure. But he’s not repaying any favors, not tonight, let that shithead take care of himself, since he can’t see it going anywhere. Fuck that. It’s fine.

”I know–, no, I know…”

Wrapped up in his own bullshit, Mickey hadn’t noticed he wasn’t alone. The same man from before is still on the phone, and he looks if possible even more miserable than he did when Mickey first arrived.

”That isn’t–, no, I know you didn’t… listen–”

Mickey ignores him, taking out a cigarette putting it to his lips. Might as well, he’s already out here. He lights it up. He, lights it up… come the fuck on, he lights it up. His lighter is out. Fucking great.

”Ey,” he says and turns to the guy on the phone, ”you got a light?”

The guy stares at him, and Mickey absently thinks he looks even worse up close. Like, disturbingly hot and built enough to properly toss a guy around if he wanted, but absolutely worn down by whatever it is he’s doing with whoever’s on the phone with him. Whatever, not Mickey’s problem. He shakes his empty lighter when the guy doesn’t immediately react.

”Oh,” the guy blinks, his eyes are red. He digs out a lighter from somewhere and hands it over. ”Here.”

”Thanks,” Mickey steps close enough so he can reach out and take it, and consequently hear the distant sound of a man’s voice on the other end of the line. He can’t make out any words, but the tone is unmistakable. The guy frowns and turns away slightly.

”Jesus, Jace, what the fuck?” he says, voice low and sharp. ”Are you serious right now? I’m not–, you know what?”

Mickey lights up and takes a couple of steps away to give the guy some privacy, but might still watch him out of the corner of his eye and hear pretty much everything he says. Call him a nosy bitch, but he really needs the distraction right now.

”I can’t do this right now,” the guy sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. ”We’re on in like ten minutes and I can’t–, I can’t do this with you right now. I asked you for time.”

He listens, and whatever it is that’s being said to him seems to hit a nerve. The general air around him of annoyed resolve slowly shifts into something more resigned.

”Yeah, I know… I’m sorry,” he says, and Mickey doesn’t know him or his situation, but he knows this can’t be right. ”Tomorrow, we’ll talk. I promise. Yeah, thanks… I will. Love you, too.”

Mickey shouldn’t be listening to this, he should finish his cigarette and go back inside. Find Martin and enjoy the night, have some fucking fun. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t want to.

He wants to go home, put on some fucking comfortable clothes and watch a movie with his kid.

”Heads up,” he says and waits until the phone guy looks up before he lobs the lighter back at him. He fumbles, but catches it. ”Fuck him, you deserve better.”

The guy stares at him, and rightly so. Mickey doesn’t know why he said that, he doesn’t know anything about it. But the guy looks… he looks a bit like Mickey’s feeling, deep down and buried many times over.

He looks lost.

”You deserve better,” Mickey repeats, because he already said it and he’s nothing if not all in. The guy opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, but he doesn’t say anything. Probably thinking of ways to get away from the freak accosting him on the street with unsolicited affirmation bullshit. Which, fair enough. Guess that’s Mickey’s cue to fuck off. If the guy would just stop staring at him like that.

A hand-holding couple suddenly walks right through their intense moment, heading for the doors. Mickey comes back to himself and, thinking quick, he takes out his ticket and waves it at the couple to get their attention.

”No thanks,” the man said, probably thinking he’s trying to sell it.

”Just fucking take it,” Mickey grumbles, shoving the ticket at them.

”Uh, thanks?”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand at them, already on his way.

”Thank you!” someone shouts after him.

He can’t wait to get home. Kick off his shoes, wash out the gel in his hair. Untuck his fucking shirt. Investigate whatever that cake poking business was about, hopefully cake. Watch his kid watch a movie, see his little face light up and mouth along with the words. Absolutely ignore Sonya’s inevitable attempts to get him to ’talk about it’.

His life is fucking fine the way it is, he doesn’t know why he got it in his head to try and make it something it isn’t.

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Stability Chapter 8

Otis Driftwood x Reader

( I don't own these gifs)

"Hey boss.. the guys are here"

"Alright send them on in"

" Well it's about time you showed up I haven't got all day you know I called you yesterday, anyways here's the list of names I need you to run down for me."

Sheriff Wydell was speaking to Rondo and Billy Ray Snapper. Two questionable characters that one could call a bounty hunter for just someone who likes to walk the line between upstanding citizen and criminal organization. Wydell had hesitated on calling these two considering the fact that they weren't the greatest people but if anyone knew how a criminal thought and acted it was these two.

He handed Rondo the list, he looked over it and pointed at Spalding's name "That's a funny-ass name! Spaulding what the fuck."Sheriff John Wydell sighed "Yeah, look who's fucking talking, *Rondo*. Just tell me if anything connects." "I'm sure it will. Shit always floats our way, don't it? Chief." Billy Ray Snapper replied

Sheriff Wydell rubbed his eyes" You keep your mouth open wide enough maybe you'd catch it all. Don't fuck this up assholes."

Rondo scoffed" yeah well I heard about that chick who got blown up by that semi truck outside of the motel, have fun scraping all their brains up off the road."

"Hey this one's kind of cute" Billy said pointing to a photo of you. "You sure she's one of them? She looks like she'd be one of their victims".

"Yeah I'm sure as shit, She may look like she's soft and innocent but believe me she's just as ruthless as the rest of them I believe that's why the one called Otis calls her Kitty, but her real name is Y/N, You happen to run into her, watch out because anyone who I suspect willingly joins this family can't be right in the head. Unless she's got the worst case of Stockholm syndrome I've ever seen." Wydell adjusted his belt and stood up. "Just hurry up and get it done" he said and walked out.

"I can't believe you're finally moving in! I already felt like you were one of my kids and it's finally official." It was moving in day for you at the Firefly home. Mama was overwhelmed with joy about having another daughter. She loved you as one of her own, you were over almost all the time to her and Baby's delight and well Otis of course ( not that he would show it). "Would ya let her go you're gonna smash her ribs" Otis said crossing his arms and staring at the both of you. "Oh hush now boy, Where's tiny? TINY COME GRAB Y/N BAGS."

Mama turned and shouted to the large gentleman who slumped over as fast as he could." Oh tiny you don't have to do that" you started to protest but mama cut you off. " Nonsense! A lady shouldn't carry those heavy bags now, come on, let's see where your room will be!"

" She's staying in my room…." Otis said with a matter of fact drag to his voice. "No she should stay with me!!" Baby replied, skipping over to you and throwing her arms around you. "It will be a sleep over everyday!". " I said she's staying in my room and that is that!. Otis said with more frustration to his voice now. " Fine fine fine" Baby huffed "always so grumpy, anyways" she tightened her arms around you. "When do you think you'll want to see the basement….." she lightly skipped up and down " now that you live here you gotta see it." " Um I guess now" you said with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You knew what the family did for the most part and who lived in the basement but to actually see it was another thing.

Otis stepped up to you, towering over you in an intimidating yet arousing way. "If you ain't ready darlin you don't gotta go today, just eventually you do. As part of the family it's important you know all that goes on and that the doctor meets you..". " You don't have to be afraid!!!!" Baby chirped up, " we will go with you!!". You looked back to Otis " you both will go with me?". He leaned even closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.."I would never make you do that alone what kinda man would I be?You stepped on your tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. " I'm ready to face anything else as long as you're with me". You took his hand and looked back toward Baby "let's go see the Dr.".

The trip to the basement actually went way better than you expected. Baby skipped ahead and pointed out different details narrating the entirety of the trip. Otis and you held back as you took in the scenery, he held your hand the entire time, scanning your face for any signs you were uneasy.

"Charlie ain't a bad guy he's just built a little funny but he means well we got ourselves into some sticky situations back in the day and he always had my back" " look nothing you can say can make me trust this fucker and for the record… I STILL DON'T LIKE THIS IDEA". Otis and Spaulding's disagreement didn't cease as they drove up to Charlie's funtown. Baby sighed loudly " I can't fucking wait until y/n is back with us, Otis is so much less of a dick when she's around. She's like his dimmer switch. Without her he's just blasting his shit in everyone's face". " Shut up and fuck both of you" Otis muttered pulling up now to the main building.

The van came to a rumbling hault. Drawing the attention of the people inside. Turning off the van the trip was greeted with the man himself and two ladies. "Well we'll if it isn't my brother Cutter! Hands in the fucking air!" Charlie shouted, pulling out a large gun at the trio. Baby looked at her father in disbelief "What the fuck is this shit?".

Otis angrily threw his hands in the air,"you bring us all the way out here and this prick pulls a gun on us? Nice fuckin' plan, daisy!"

Spaulding to Otis and then to his daughter giving them a reassuring look "Just do it! He's a crazy, pig-fuckin'..."

Charlie scoffed walking closer with the gun "what you call me?"Spaulding's bold nature took over and he walked even closer to the gun and Charlie "Well if you'd give me a chance, I was gonna call you a crazy, pig-fuckin', dumbass, pussy piece of shit!"

Otis grit his teeth together "I know what I know and I know I don't like this fucker! Remember I said that fuck this is stupid! WE SHOULDN'T COME HERE AND.." * spray* A large gust of water shot out of the gun which was revealed to be fake. "Got cha!!!!" Charlie laughed looking back toward the girls cracking up. Baby and Spaulding dropped their hands, joining in on the laughter. Otis however was not amused, Baby shoved him a little "oh lighten up".

Charlie and Spaulding's laughter filled the atmosphere. They both embraced and cracked up at the event that just occurred. "That was funny THAT WAS FUNNY, oh hey do you remember Baby my daughter?" He pointed to her behind him as she jumped up and gave him a big hug. " Look at my beautiful niece you grew up so fast!". He looked over to Otis ``Well hey happy boy you still an asshole?" Otis paused before flipping him off.

Candy who was Charlie's self proclaimed "best girl" focused on Otis, she remembered him from when he used to come to the town. "Hey there Happy boy haven't seen you for a while I was wondering what happened to you, I thought maybe you died or something because I know you weren't disappointed the last time you saw me because I never disappoint" Candy said twirling her hair in a sultry matter. " Yeah well Mama I can tell you that I was not disappointed, heh well because I set my standards pretty low".

He replied already uncomfortable, he shifted a little while standing in front of them. "Actually I am married now so I'm not into picking up whores anymore, no offense". Charlie turned to look at Otis after overhearing that laughing even harder. " No way !!!!! This crazy fucker right here got married!? How in the hell? Is she deformed or something?." "Wow hey so fuck you you pig smelling fuck" Otis replied.

"Oh come on now lighten up like Baby said, You always have a stick up your ass". Charlie said lightly shoving Otis in the shoulder. "Charlie you remember my daughter's best friend y/n?" Spaulding asked him.

"Wait wait That pretty little thing that I used to see run around the house?, I bet she grew up to be so beautiful and she was sharp as a tack. What wait how did you snag that?!" Charlie exclaimed.

Otis just rolled his eyes, "god shut the fuck up". Charlie just laughed again looking around the trio for any sign of you. "Hey where is the little lady? I wanna give her a funtown welcome haha!". Otis spit on the ground and huffed "we don't fucking know and we're supposed to be looking for her but now we are here" he looked angrily at Spaulding while he said this. Charlie looked over all of the three faces of worry and smiled. " It seems like you guys have been through a lot, why don't you come inside and make yourself comfortable and we can talk about it". They followed Charlie inside.