#sure it’s deteriorating now but it’s been 3 years of me breathing and sleeping in this thing

[aniposting]

i was gonna ask my parents for life series merch for christmas but the sizing is too small (rlly only up to 3x?) :((

[mrs-bartowski]

Brace for impact y'all cuz my brain is being Extra Rude this fine Sunday. OKAY, so...

What with Lena's new unemployment status, obviously we have all these hcs about her being unable to afford the penthouse and moving in with Kara.

Then of course we have all the accompanying hcs about Lena's time in the apartment between now and when Kara gets back (blanket sniffing, inability to sleep in Kara's bed, ready-to-pack corner of belongings so as to not alter Kara's home, and all those other super fun things that make me wanna cry).

I see all of those (and love them) and I raise you one: the Mxy tapes.

So, we see right after Mxy leaves when Kara picks up "The One Where Lena Decided To Work With Lex" which is what, in combination with her realization that telling Lena the truth always has "huge" consequences, motivates her to make that super OOC decision to absolve herself entirely of her guilt and tell Lena she'll treat her like a villain if she works with Lex, yes?

Now, what if that wasn't the only tape Mxy left behind? What if he left a recording of each of those alternate timelines because, after seeing Kara twist what she learned to fit her frustration over Lena's continued cold shoulder and hearing what she said to Lena, Mxy decided she might want to watch them again at some point to remember the real takeaway: she's fighting for the relationship that saves the world...

Kara found the tapes stacked on the coffee table when she got home, with a note that said "You found the magic. Now don't lose it." She wanted to get angry, but instead she just put the tapes in a box on the shelf under the TV and tried to forget about them.

----------

Lena's hand shakes slightly as she slides the key into the lock, feeling the ghost of Alex’s hand rest gently on her shoulder as it had when she’d pressed the cold metal into her palm a few hours earlier with a silent offer and an encouraging nod. The door swings open slowly, and Lena is hit by a sudden wave of cold. Not temperature, but energy. It’s too quiet - no NSYNC on the speaker or Bachelorette on the TV. It’s too empty - no smell of fresh (slightly burnt) bread or yarn strewn all over the counter from Kara’s various crochet projects. It’s too...Kara-less.

Lena shakes off the feeling and slides her bag off her shoulder in the corner by the bookcase, careful not to knock Kara’s favorite cinnamon candle off the stool beside her, as she tells Alexa to play Nina Simone. She zips open her bag to pull out her favorite copy of Mrs. Dalloway and finds it missing. Realizing she must have left it in her desk drawer at LexCorp, Lena makes a mental note to send Brainy in after it tomorrow with the promise that he can change all of Lex’s passwords one more time before they leave the game for good.

Lena stares at the blank TV screen for a moment, dreading the thought of watching anything in this room without Kara’s head on her shoulder or in her lap. So, she crouches to look at the shelves of the TV stand, hoping to find at least one of the books she’d gotten Kara for her birthday last year wedged between the latest issues of CatCo Magazine and the recipe books Alex had gotten her in the hopes of spending less money on pot stickers every week.

She’s just zeroed in on The Color Purple when she notices a box she doesn’t recognize laying across the tops of the books on the other shelf. She reaches for it on instinct, then hesitates. She hasn’t touched anything of Kara’s since their falling out, and what if Kara’s “what’s mine is yours” rule no longer applies to her now? She considers leaving it alone and waiting for Kara to get back and explain, sliding The Color Purple toward her without taking her eyes off the box, before her curiosity gets the better of her and she caves, tossing the book onto the coffee table.

She opens the lid and starts at the sight of VHS tapes. Hasn't she taught Kara better than this? They'd converted all her old tapes to DVDs months into their friendship ("Kara, these things deteriorate so easily and the picture quality becomes awful, don't you want something that will last?"). She picks up the first tape and reads the label on the side: "The One Where Lena Doesn't Make It Back In Time." Her brows furrow as she stares, unblinking, at the title - demanding answers she knows only one person can give her.

She glances around, but doesn't see a VHS player anywhere, so she sets the tape on the floor beside her and picks up the next one. "The One Where Lena Can't Save Sam Or Herself." Lena shoves down her growing horror and discards the tape, hoping the next one will be less ominous. She picks it up and chokes back a sob as she reads: "The One Where There Are No Survivors."

Lena can't wait for answers anymore, so she gathers the tapes back into the box, grabs her purse and Kara's key, and heads to the closest library. Lena finds the old CRT sitting on a rolling cart in the back corner of the library, tucked between the stacks of kids' books. She pulls the first tape out of the box and slides it carefully into the slot.

30 minutes later, with tears and too-cheap eyeliner streaming down her face, Lena picks up the last tape. "The One Where Lena Was Never Your Friend." And here she'd thought things couldn't get worse. Lena takes a deep breath as she inserts the tape.

At the sight of the ruin that meets Kara and Mxy, Lena stifles the urge to laugh. Of course this is what a world without her best friend looks like. This exactly how it feels now, and she's only been gone a few weeks.

Lena's breath catches as she hears herself ask "who's Kara?," the mere thought of a world where the reporter had never believed in her, never cared enough to love her, almost too much to bear. Her hand drifts absent-mindedly to her chest as she watches herself reveal a kryptonite heart, and for a moment she can hear the sounds of her own screams as her mother's experiments rob her of the last of her humanity.

She presses her hand closer to her heart, sure that it's stopped beating at the sight of Kara on the ground, in pain at her hands but still refusing to fight her. Feels it shatter when her worst self says exactly the same words she'd said to Kara in the Fortress when asked why she had pretended to be Kara's friend for so long.

And she thinks it might kill her, this agony that's filling her body like acid. She wonders for a moment if this is what kryptonite feels like to Kara. Because it sure feels like her skin is getting seared off her bones and there are nails in her blood and it sure seems like she won't survive watching herself kill her best friend as she lies helpless and desperate on the floor.

And when Mxy pulls them out, Lena's breath returns full force until she's hyperventilating because Kara is gone and she doesn't know how long it will be until they get her back; and she was terrified of what she'd become when she lost Jack but she survived because of Kara; and if this is what losing Kara without ever having her in the first place looks like, Lena has never been more afraid than she is as she realizes what will happen to the world if she doesn't get Kara back. What she'll do to the world if it dares to take Kara from her.

So, when she gathers the tapes and goes to return them to the box and finds a note at the bottom that says "You found the magic. Now don't lose it," Lena promises herself that, for as long as she lives, she will do everything in her power to keep the magic that is Kara Danvers in her life.

----------

Alex knocks on the apartment door three days later and finds it unlocked. She pushes the door open and her hand drifts to her gun, but relaxes as she sees Lena's sleeping form curled up on the couch. Alex approaches a box she knows the contents of all too well and finds it open and empty on the table before she notices the VCR player and tapes strewn across the floor. She smiles softly as she recalls the image of Kara in the exact same position months earlier. And, as she carefully plucks the handwritten note from Lena's clutched fist, she smiles at the knowledge that, once Kara returns, no force in the world will be able to keep them apart again.

UPDATE: Ask and ye shall receive

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[getlostsquidward]

Divine Intervention

Irina Spalko x fem!reader

A/N: For the anon that requested another Irina fic, here you go! <3

Warnings: violence, blood, nudity

Summary: The knowledge-seeking woman gets what she wants, and more.

gif from here

“Tell me everything you know.”

“I want to know everything! I want to know!”

An ominous sound can be heard in the Akator. Debris of rocks from the ceiling was starting to fall, the walls of the temple were rotating, and there was a very bright light coming from above. Akator was slowly deteriorating, but Irina didn’t falter; spellbound by the creatures who will give her the knowledge she always wanted to have. The people around her either got away in time or were sucked in by the spaceship. She stood ground in the middle of the thirteen crystal beings, graciously accepting their great gift.

“Tell me. I’m ready. I want to know!”

A smoke-like thing transferred from their skulls to Irina, passing her the wisdom she so desired.

“I can see. I can see!”

The crystal skeletons started to merge, incorporating to form a body. “Cover it! Cover it!”

Irina was overwhelmed by the knowledge she had gotten. It was too much for her, a human brain to handle; her eyes started to burn, her body disintegrated and turned into ash.

-

Irina was woken up by the blinding ray of the sun peeking in between the tall big trees, in the middle of the woods. She touched her face, her arms, to check for any burns or wounds, but she found none. She also found herself… stark naked. No clothes, no shoes, not even her trusty rapier. Blindly believing that she was alone in this vast forest, she roamed around to find clothes and shelter.

She was incredibly hungry and parched, having walked for hours now. Her feet had small cuts now, her arms with insect bites, due to the absence of garments to protect her body. Yet, she doesn’t plan to stop searching even if the sun is setting down.

It was now dark, but she can slightly see a faint flicker of lights not far ahead. She followed the light, determined to get what she needed even if she had to kill someone if they refused. It was a two-story cabin, inhabited, based on the fruits and vegetables growing outside. She looked around the house, searched for another entrance beside the front door and windows. Irina found a back door, but it was locked. She stared blankly at the doorknob, wishing she had something with her to open the damn door that wouldn’t alert whoever was inside.

The knob clicked. Thinking that someone had opened it from the inside, she shuffled for a fighting stance, ready to attack. When the door didn’t open, she pushed it and peeked inside. There was no sign of people, and the lights were off. She peered in the dark, searched for something she can eat. There was none lying around, and instead, she met was some new shiny appliances.

Her eyes caught the knives in the corner, so she took one, just in case it was needed. The sound of stomping feet from the wooden stairs alerted the Colonel-Doctor. She hid in the dark and waited if the person was threatening enough to kill.

-

You skipped the last two stairs, rushing to the fridge to get a tub of ice cream. You skimmed the items inside, looking for something to snack on while you watch your favourite show. It was rather empty aside from the half-full ice cream tub, and some leftovers. You really have to get groceries tomorrow. As you closed the door, a sharp object was pointed at your neck. You retreat away until your back hit the table. You can faintly see the woman hovering over you thanks to the dim light from the kitchen island.

You slowly raised your hands on your head, “Woah, lady. What do you want? You wanna rob my kitchen? Well, consider this your unlucky day because there’s barely anything ther-“ you stop blabbering as she pressed the knife into your skin.

“I need clothes and food. And tell me what this place is.” Her thick accent sent shivers on your spine.

“Okay. First, this is my house, and well, we’re in the middle of nowhere; and this middle of nowhere is in the Y/C. I will get you clothes, but I need to get upstairs to my room. For the food, there’s a leftover in the fridge. I’ll heat it for you if you want. Please, just please don’t kill me,” you pleaded.

She stepped back enough for you to stand, but her hand grabbed your shoulder as a precaution as if you can outmuscle her. You walked towards the fridge to get her food and put it in the oven. After setting the timer, you head to the stairs, the woman still behind you. Once you got to your room she closed the door abruptly and gave you space to rummage on your closet. You don’t know if your clothes will fit her so you settled on giving her an oversized shirt and one of your comfy shorts. “Here,” you turned around to give her when you finally noticed that she was naked. “What the fu…” your eyes trail down her Alabaster skin, but abruptly faced away when she cleared her throat. Blushing from being caught, you merely tossed the clothes to her.

Gathering your courage to speak, you asked, “Lady, who are you and why are you very nude in my house?” You’re insanely beautiful too, and I mean that with utter respect.

“Irina Spalko. I woke up in the middle of these woods earlier. You can turn around now.” Once you did, she continued, “And thank you.”

“Well, I don’t really mind the company, as long as you don’t kill me, please.”

“Insanely beautiful.”

You stared at her dumbly, "What?”

“You said I’m insanely beautiful,” she said smugly, her lips tugging upwards on a smirk.

Now, what the fuck did she just said? “I- I didn’t say anything like that. You must be hallucinating, Ms. Spalko. Your hunger makes you hear things.” You scurried off downstairs to get as far away from her, and your ice cream. It must have turned to a puddle now.

You set her food on the table and wait as she took her time before following you out. She must be so sure that you wouldn’t take off and call for help.

The princess had finally descended, you thought as you watch her sit at the table and eat silently. “Colonel-Doctor. Not a princess,” she declared. You opened your mouth to speak but remained in an O-shape as no coherent words were coming out. “H-how- what- I- I don’t understand. A-are you a mind reader or something? A witch?”

“Neither. Just… a chosen one.” After that, she paid you no mind and continued eating.

You walked out of the kitchen, fearing that she would hear your thoughts again. Instead, you whispered to yourself, “What have I gotten myself into? I'm like a hostage in my own house, okay. I feel like the main character that dies first in a horror movie.”

You sauntered back in the kitchen and asked the woman, “I take it you’re staying here for the meantime? So do you wanna sleep in the living room or the guest room?” you probed. “I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? If I want to stay alive?”

She only nodded. “Thought so; Uhm, so, where?”

“Guest room.”

“Got it. If you’re finished, just throw the plate into the trash. I’ll ready the room.”

You just finished placing some sheets into the bed when she arrived. “Okay, housemate. Bed’s ready. It’s been a long day for the both of us, and I really wanna sleep now, so let’s settle what we have to settle tomorrow, ‘kay? Good night,” you finished your speech and closed the door. You leaned onto it and breathed out a deep sigh. When did you become such a hospitable host that you just let a dangerous woman into your house?

-

Sleep didn’t come to Irina that night. She tried to remember what happened before she got here. Right. They had returned the skull to Akator; she requested knowledge and they gave it to her. Her brain was overloaded with too much information that she disintegrated. Irina still remembers the excruciating pain, the feeling that someone was drilling holes into her head, the feeling of being burned, but here she was, alive and well. In the middle of nowhere, with someone who looks very vulnerable. You proved to be of use to her, so she won’t harm you… as of now.

Her mind drifted to you. How was she able to read what was on your mind just by sparing you a glance? Before, she needed to be close to the person as possible before she can read them. Her psychic abilities had her family ostracized; the reason she sought knowledge and her purpose. How about the doorknob? Did she do it? Did the interdimensional beings amplified her abilities, and possibly gave her more?

How many days have passed since she was in Akator?

64 years.

At first, she couldn’t comprehend how time had passed, seeing as she didn’t age one bit. But since Irina had encountered aliens herself, nothing was odd for her anymore.

“So you’re saying you’re from the ’50s?”

“Yes.”

“How did that happen?” you curiously asked. “I mean, one day, you’re in a temple in the ’50s, then you woke up in the woods in 2021?” she nodded. “Actually, you know what, whatever. I believe you. The world is in shambles right now and I wouldn’t be surprised anymore if aliens were real,” you finished as you parked your car.

“Here’s the deal, Irina. You’re a woman out of time, and so much had changed since you… since then,” you paused, “And you’re a very physical woman. Like I think if someone bumped their cart onto you you’ll tackle them to the ground, and I don’t wanna cause a scene. So, stick with me, please.”

So far, so good. Irina wasn’t causing a scene yet, except when she snatches out the item you were holding. She was intently reading the label and then muttering about how it wasn’t good for the body and then putting it back on the shelf.

The cart was nearly full; mostly food, toiletries, and some tools. Irina didn’t add anything save for a toy sword. Okay.

She was mostly quiet, but you see that her eyes silently wander around the place, on the people around, frequently landing on you. You spent shopping in comfortable silence, letting her absorb the state of the world. She may be listing off her questions in her head and then ask about them later.

You look at your grocery list and cart simultaneously, checking if you’ve got everything you needed. As you confirm that you’ve had, you gasped as Irina took your hand into hers and laced your fingers together. You looked at your joined hands, feeling how warm and soft her hand is. You remembered that she can read minds, so you jokingly asked, ‘What hand cream do you use?’, testing her ability once again.

“There are two men following us since we got out of the car. I doubt you noticed, but good thing you take so long in every aisle, I was able to confirm that they were indeed following us,” she whispered, her hot breath tickling your ears. “They intend to steal from you.”

Fear taking over you, you stammered “Oh. Stealing in the light of day, okay, uh can’t you do anything to them? Any more abilities? Clearly, you can defend yourself based on how you introduced yourself last night.”

“I could, but you said you didn’t want to cause a scene. And I wasn’t certain until now.”

“Yeah, I take that back. Do what you have to. I trust you.”

Irina found this as an excuse to measure her abilities. You continued to act normal, proceeding to the counter to pay for your groceries. They have no idea that you and Irina have noticed them already. The men split up, keeping themselves at a distance, as one queued at the counter beside yours. The other had gone out of your sight.

She planned to lure them into the alley at the back of the shop. Once you arrived, she had noticed the other man nonchalantly leaning on the wall ahead, waiting for you. You continued to walk slowly until you felt the second man behind you, effectively trapping the both of you in the middle of the back alley. The moment they got near, the man behind spoke, “You, the one with the bags. Give me your money,” he hissed, referring to you. “Your phone and keys. And no one will get hurt.”

You would’ve run for the life of you if there wasn’t another man waiting on the other side, flipping a knife. Eyes locked on Irina, you patiently wait for her instruction, hoping she wouldn’t turn on you and leave you alone.

“I won’t,” she murmured, side-eyeing either man at your side.

The Ukrainian wasn’t sure if her hunch was right, but if she wasn’t, she could still take both men with bare hands. She stared at the knife and envisioned it impaling on his stomach. The man’s grunt had confirmed her hunch as red stained his clothes, and blood trickled to the ground. She then pulled the knife out and willed it to pierce through the other man’s thigh. Once he was down on his knees, Irina’s hand that never left yours yanked you to run to your car. She gave them a last glance and hurled their bodies to the wall for safe measure.

Afraid that someone might have seen what happened, you started the car immediately and drove out. None of you spoke until you’re sure that you are far enough from the store. “What the fuck?” you blurted, adrenaline still coursing through you. “Did you- did you do that? No, no don’t answer. You definitely did. Uh, telekinesis and mind-reading? Any additional powers you’re hiding?”

You glanced at her, her eyes straight on the road. “Because if you’re planning to stay in my house for God knows how long, you might wanna tell me about them.”

She was silent for a while, contemplating her answer. “I don’t know if there’s more.”

When you didn’t respond, she told you everything that had happened to her since she was a child. How they were exiled in their village when her psychic abilities had manifested, how her own mother feared her for her naïve innocence, which led her to flee the village and search for answers.

You listened attentively, though lost yourself when she mentioned that she was part of the Soviet Union. You only hear and see on the internet how these people were trained, and uneasiness was creeping up. Her intentions weren’t clear; she hadn’t yet thought about what she’s going to do now that she’s in a society she outgrew.

When she noticed that you trailed off, she spoke, “I don’t use a hand cream.”

It was a good thing that you’re not stepping on any pedal right now because you would have pressed the brakes heavily. You raised your brow at her, amused, and a chuckle coming out from you. Though her eyes were still cold and impassive, a genuine smile tugged from her lips.

[mishirak]

Beauty in Everything [2/2]

Pairing: Gaston(Beauty and the Beast) x F!Reader

Ratings: General

Warnings: Death of a loved one, depression, angst with a happy ending and final part

A/N: I did not expect people to like this fic or people like Gaston in 2021. What a pleasant surprise! I redid the ending, I’m way happier with the ending as a terato fan.

Word count: 2.4k

Like my works? Support me on Ko-fi!

> Part One! | Alternate Ending

That was nearly a week ago. The Beast drops you off near the town after wrapping your ankle. You understand why he wouldn't enter the town. You don't get a chance to say goodbye when you hear your name being called. The town folks were searching for you, and he promptly left after that. You limp towards the noise, making sure not to place too much pressure on your injured ankle.

Apparently, Josephine was okay, she ran towards home, and your mother was frightened that you were not with Josephine. There were many questions from folks. You informed them everything and left the Beast out of it; you don't think they will be happy to hear a beast anywhere near them.

Since then, you've been stuck in your house for a couple of days, your mother making sure your ankle is fine and healing properly. You sighed as you continued sewing the clothes. The good thing is that your ankle is starting to feel better, so you can start moving around without your mother pestering you. It also means you can go to the next town to buy her medicine. You remind yourself not to take shortcuts in places you aren't familiar with without any guidance.

"Ma! I'm going to buy medicine! Do you want anything before I go?" You said as you are getting ready for the ride, you hear your mother's footsteps behind you. "No, just come back home safe." You sighed as you turned around to look at her, "mama, it was just a one-time thing. I promise I won't get hurt again." You told her as you gave her a reassuring smile and hugged her. You pull away and climb on Josephine. You looked towards the direction of your mother and waved goodbye to her; once you both bid your goodbyes, you're off.

As Josephine walks you both through the forest, you were in deep thoughts, thinking about your mother and the Beast. The Beast has been plaguing your mind for a while now; you wonder if you will meet him ever again. There is so much you want to ask him, to know more about him. "Why are you here again?" You jumped at the voice; you looked around and saw Beast.

"I didn't expect to see you again!" You said with enthusiasm in your voice. You smile at him; you're glad to see him again. "I'm going to the next town to buy my mother's medication." You continued; he scratched the back of his neck, looking unsure how to answer you. "...Do you want to company me there? If you don't mind, that is." You offered, hoping that he takes on the offer.

You smile brightly as he accepts the offer and the two of you continue your trip to the next town.

And your friendship with Beast blossoms after that; since then, he has been accompanying you throughout your trip. While he's isn't too keen on talking about himself, you figured that he isn't comfortable talking about it yet. You decided to talk about the forest he resides in, what happens in the town, and you.

You'll be lying if you say you don't fall in love with the Beast; he gives you comfort that your mother can't provide. Especially since your mother's health has been deteriorating as time went by. The aunts around you and even Agathe said there's nothing you can do to stop the inevitable death of your mother.

Beast no longer just accompanying you through your trips; he was becoming your source of comfort, your friend. There will be times where you visit him just to sit together in silence.

You didn't think you would lose your mother 3 years after your father's death. Your family meant the world to you, especially your mother, who teaches everything you know. The house feels too quiet now; without your mother's coughing, the reality starts to sets in. Your mother is no longer here with you.

You didn't visit Beast after your mother's death; you don't have any energy to stand up and do anything in general. Once your food runs out, you realized you need to get out. Using this reason, you go straight to the place you and Beast usually meet.

The walk towards there, you don't know if Beast were still there, was he angry or was he worried? What if he wasn't there? Your thoughts and doubts immediately wash away when you saw his silhouette. Your slow walks suddenly became fast-paced as you run towards him, Beast quickly turned around as he was startled to hear footsteps behind him.

When he saw it was your footsteps, he catches you as you throw yourself to hug him. The feeling of his fur, his arms hugging your frame, being safe and protected in his arms. You remember the times he comforts you while being in his arms.

He never saw you cry this hard, not over things or anyone else other than your mother. He knew the worst has happened; he hugged you a bit tighter, burying his head in your hair. "I'm sorry." That's all he can say as you cry in his arms.

You didn't think you have more tears to shed after days of crying; you felt so tired afterwards. You close your eyes and steady your breathing. After a while, you look at Beast and give him a smile. "Thank you," you said as you dry your face with your hands.

"I didn't do much, you should... go home, it's going to be dark." He said, but you shake your head. "I don't want to; it's too quiet. I have no one," you said, and you look down at your lap. You saw his large hand taking one of your tiny hands. "Then let's go to mine," he said, pulling you up making you both stand up.

You both walk in the direction of his house, which is a hunter's hut that he can barely fit through the door. You never stay too long in his place; there wasn't much to do in the hut, so the two of you spend most of the time outside. 

As the two of you went inside his house, you awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, not knowing what to do. "You take the bed. You must be tired. I will be here when you wake up, don't worry." He said and push you to the only bed. You were about to protest about you taking the floor, but you immediately realize he doesn't fit the bed at all.

You lay down on the bed and lay on your side, looking at Beast. There was a bit of silence as you two look at each other until he decided to turn around, his back facing you. You giggled and finally close your eyes, letting sleep taking over you.

You technically still live in the village; however, you rarely return to your home. Returning to only clean the house and wash your clothes. You haven't retired from your work, you just don't work twice as hard, there weren't any medications you need to buy. You found out that Beast hunts for his food, which saves up some money.

You panicked a bit when one of the aunts asked about you, asking why you were rarely at home. You lied to her, saying that you moved to the forest that's not connected to the main path. The aunts were a bit suspicious about you, but Agathe was there for you and to soothe the gossiping people.

But that wasn't enough.

When one of the villagers found out where you lived and saw Beast. You didn't know anything about it until the next time you went back to the village. The people start to surround you, telling you that you've been hiding a beast.

After hearing those words, you try to escape from the people. A man catches your arm, trying to hold you down. By some miracle, you manage to pull away and escape the mob. You ran towards the hut to warn Beast and to escape from the place together.

You saw Beast's large form as you ran towards him before you can say anything, "there they are! Get your weapons ready!" You froze in fear when you heard a man's booming voice. You turn your head and saw the mob with their weapons ready. You grip on Beast's fur; you never felt this scared before.

Without warning, a shot was fired, and Beast started running away from them. It was happening so fast, you didn't even register what had happened. You suddenly felt pain behind your back; you finally realized that you were shot.

"Beast-" you call out to him; he didn't acknowledge you and keep on running. You winced in pain as you felt his big hand putting pressure on the gunshot wound. "Don't fall asleep on me. Please." He begged desperately and look down at you; you never hear or see him this desperate. It hurts your heart.

"I won't." You lied as you smile at him. You felt yourself getting exhausted, you know it's due to blood loss, but you still want to reassure and comfort him. Like the many times, he did to you before. You try to keep your eyes open.

Suddenly he stopped and put you down, making you sit on his lap while he's holding your back, "talk to me. Anything." he said out of nowhere. You look at him, trying to think, but he continued. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, you wouldn't be like this if it weren't for me" Your expression changed to anger when you hear that.

"No, it's not. It's those stupid villagers' fault. We never harm them, and yet, their minds come to that conclusion. Don't ever think it's your fault." You argue weakly. If you could, you would yell at him, but you don't have the energy to. Beast just huff at you while his other hand caressed your head. You lean towards it, smiling as you do so.

"I wish we could do this more."

"Once you heal, we can do it however much you want." He said, continuing playing your hair. You hummed in delight as you snuggle closer towards his chest. "I love you, Beast. Thank you for being there for me. These past 3 years, I have so much fun, experience things I've never have before meeting you." You confessed, your voice was weak that Beast can hardly hear it.

"I love you too" You felt him hugging you closer, feeling something wet on your face, you see him crying; however, you don't have the strength to wipe his tears away. You let sleep take you; it was getting harder to open your eyes.

Beast stays in his place for a while, continues playing with the dead girl's hair. He was too focused on the girl and didn't realize that someone was approaching him. Once he did, he roars at the stranger and jumps back with the girl in his arms to avoid them getting closer to him and the girl. His eyes widen as he soon realizes it was the same enchantress that cursed him.

"...Please bring her back. She's all that I have after you've cursed me. I will stay as a beast forever if it means that she's brought back to life," he begged to the Enchantress. The Enchantress was taken by surprise; she expected him to lash out at her, not just that, he offered to stay as a beast. During her stay as Agathe in Villeneuve, knowing Gaston, his appearance and his ego were huge factors of who Gaston was.

"Are you sure? You do know that you still have a lot of time to break your curse, right? There will be more people that can break-" "I DON'T WANT OTHER PEOPLE!" The Enchantress jumped as he cuts her off and slams his hand on the ground; Gaston continues. "She's not like any other people. No one can be like her."

The Enchantress smiles at that and walks towards Gaston and [Y/N]. She crouches down to the girl, waving her wand around the girl as the bright light appeared and blinded the beast. He closed his eyes.

After a few seconds, he opens his eyes to see that the Enchantress wasn't here anymore. He looks down at [Y/N], grabbing her face. Noticing that her body felt warm, unlike a few minutes ago where her body was cold. The girl shakes her head and blinks a couple of times. "Beast? What happened?" she asked.

You woke up suddenly, not remembering what exactly happened. You look at Beast, he has a surprising look on his face, but you don't know why. You were about to ask again until he engulfs you in his hug. You went along and hug him back.

"Let's go home..." he said and smiles at you. He stands up with you in his arms. "I can walk on my own, Beast!" You playfully kick around in his arms but still wrap your arms around his neck. "I never tell you my name, have I?" He changed the subject as he walks towards his hut. You quickly change your position and sit on his forearm and wrap your arms around his neck again. Which makes you two's heads close to each other.

"Oooh! What's with the sudden change of mind?" You teased him. Beast huffed and stopped talking. "Wait! I'm sorry! Please tell me your name! It's not fair that I don't know yours for 3 years!" You keep on pestering him, shaking his shoulders to change his mind.

"Gaston. That's my name." Gaston said. You stopped your pestering and think about it. "That's a nice name. I thought it's going to be more... different. Now that I know your name, will you tell me more about you?" You asked him. All these years of waiting to know more about Beast finally felt worth it. Even if it's just his name.

"Hmm, soon." He answered and smiled at you. You smile back when hearing that.

"I love you. Like romantic way kind of love." You said it out loud, suddenly feeling confident. "I know, and I love you too." He replied back casually. He leans in towards you and plants a kiss near your lips. Before he can pull back, you kiss him on the lips this time.

"Wrong place, Gaston." You said playfully and giggled. Gaston hummed and continue walking back home.

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 4

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2 || C.3

Chapter Four:

Here’s the thing.

Sam always knew that he and his brother were destined for something great. And, well, he can’t say that greatness didn’t fall on them. Yeah, sure, he spent thirteen years in jail. Who hasn’t? But despite that little hiccup in his life, Sam thinks that he’s done pretty well for himself. He’s discovered a lost city or two, with and without his brother, held some artifacts that were rumored to only be from stories, and tried one of the cigars from Sully’s collection. He even has a place to call his own now, his name on the mailbox downstairs, a doorman who greets him.

Honestly, it’s all he’s ever wanted growing up. More, even. Back in Panama, all he thought he wanted, besides, well, getting out, was to find Avery’s treasure with Nathan. It was that thought that kept him going most days. The idea of finding four hundred million worth of treasure! That was the dream. He and Nathan could finally settle down, or, rather, their version of it. Because they weren’t going to have a normal life. That was never in the cards for them growing up, but it was a nice thought, not having to worry about food or a place to stay.

And Sam hasn’t had to worry about that for a long time. He felt empty after Libertalia, that his story was only just beginning while Nathan’s was coming to a close. There are still things he wants to see, to do.

Time, he realized long ago, was something that he could lose so easily and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

So he went on more adventures, climbed higher mountains, picked up little trinkets (a habit he got from his little brother, starting his own little collection) along the way to bigger, better things. (It’s just a shame that some things were destroyed along the way, like statues and buildings, but what can he say? It runs in the family.)

But tonight, after a long flight and an uncomfortable chair, all Sam wants to do is go to her and crash on her bed.

Because although Sam has a place to call home, a big apartment that’s filled with his stuff, clothes, souvenirs, a fish…it feels empty. Cold. Even if he had all the money in the world, Sam can’t shake off that feeling that he shouldn’t have too much. That in just a blink of an eye, all this could be gone. Because that has happened before—moving from place to place, packing what you can immediately get your hands on.

Sam wants riches, searches for them all over the world, but deep down he knows he doesn’t know what to do with them. That even if he dreams of more, he only knows how to live with enough.

So, he only has one pillow, a blanket. A towel and an extra, shampoo (the kind that has body soap mixed with it. 2 in 1! What a deal) and deodorant. Clothes, he knows to get the sturdy kind, the kind that won’t rip easily, that stains won’t be too obvious on. Shoes, too. He gets the ones that have good traction, that won’t chafe his feet, won’t deteriorate when wet.

The fish, Jim Hawkins—Jimmy was an attempt to liven up the place. To make it seem homey, to keep him company. But there’s only so much you can do with a fish and Sam can’t deck out Jim’s aquarium any more than he already has. He’s afraid that something would fall on the poor thing, that maybe there’s more inside Jimmy’s castle than meets the eye.

“Welcome home.”

“I’m ho…ome?” Sam drops his bag to the floor, more from being too tired to carry it than shock. He’d resigned to seeing her tomorrow, that it was too late to go over now, but there she is, curled up on his couch, toes peeking out from under a throw blanket. It’s hers. Sam recognizes it easily. It’s the same one she has thrown over her arm chair, the same chair Sam likes to lounge on when he’s found a good book to read.

“How was your trip?” She looks so cozy on his couch. Hands wrapped around an orange mug he’s never seen before, book on her lap. She doesn’t look like she going to get up and Sam can’t blame her. He sort of wants to curl up next to her, somehow squeeze his large frame in the remaining space. “Get me anything nice?”

“I, uh,” Sam’s swallows, blinking. “I’m not dreaming, right? Like, I didn’t get knocked out when I fell off the mountain?”

“You fell off what?” She’s moving to stand up, mug thankfully placed back on the table despite her haste, and Sam doesn’t want her to do that.

“No. No, don’t get up.”

She gets up anyway, blanket falling to the floor, and, oh god, she’s wearing pajamas, oranges printed all over her cotton shorts. She’s by his side in seconds, hands reaching up to his face, bringing him down to her height so she can get a better look at him.

“Ouch,” Sam says, the movement too fast for his aching body. His muscles are sore and the trip home didn’t do them any favors. But she thinks that it’s her fault, that she’s hurt him and her hands are in the air, her eyes wide with both surprise and concern. “It’s not you. It’s just…,” Sam hates to say it, makes him feel old, but, “My back. I hit the ground pretty hard.”

“I feel dumb for asking…but are you okay?” Her hands are back on him, her touch gentle and giving comfort Sam didn’t know he needed. She doesn’t seem to know what to do first, how to check for injuries, but the thought is enough, her being here is enough, makes him feel better.

“Well, I’m alive,” Sam brings up his hand to push her hair away from her face. It’s soft, slightly damp from a shower. Oh. He probably needs one of those. “Nothing a hot shower can’t fix.”

“Can you…,” she hesitates, sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and Sam bends down on reflex, damn his back, and kisses her. She relaxes, sighs, and pulls away, blushing. “Uhm, I, huh?”

“Can I…?” Sam prompts, smirking.

“Now I’m embarrassed to ask.”

“C’mon, princess, don’t leave me hanging. What is it?”

“Can you, uh, do you need help?”

“Do I need help?” Sam grins. “In the shower? Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

…

Sam mentioned it to Nathan before, when they were in Italy, trying to find their way into the Rossi Estate. When you’re locked up with no hope of being let out, it’s the little things you miss the most.  

And Sam didn’t think that there was much to miss anymore now that he was out. He can ride his motorcycle anywhere he wants, go to his own bathroom any damn time he pleases, shower, eat, sleep, drink without permission. He can call Nathan and Sully and Elena without request, without reason. He can stay indoors or go outside without a schedule. He can live. The simple joys of being alive, Sam is able to enjoy them now, in much a greater magnitude than he has ever before.

Citrus, he remembers telling Nathan, he had missed the smell of citrus. The novelty of fresh fruit. The refreshing scent, the taste. The sweetness on his tongue.

“Clementine,” Sam gasps out without thinking, his mind stuck on things he missed and maybe this last trip had gone on longer than he liked.

He’s brought back to earth when the movement stops, even when he adjusts his grip, tries to get her going again, to move her hips the way he knows they both like. He opens his eyes to look at her when she doesn’t budge and she’s frowning at him, there’s a wrinkle between her eyebrows. An angry look.

“That’s not my name,” she says and it looks like she’s going to get off of him and, goddammit, why does she keep doing that?

“What?” Sam’s confused, blood not quite in his head.

“You called me Clementine.” Her tone is upset. Hurt. Sam’s never heard her speak like this before. “Who the hell is that?”

“Shit,” Sam breathes out. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Yeah. No shit.” And there she goes, lifting herself off of him as quickly as she had sunk onto him half an hour ago. Sam lets out a grunt. His ribs are bruised yet she flattens her hands on his chest to support herself. She’s doing it on purpose. She was careful before. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to do this, but I guess I was wrong.”

Sam’s cold without her, for more reasons than one, and he knows that if he doesn’t say something, anything, now, she’s going to be out that door before he can even finish saying Hail Mary. And no amount of prayer, to any sort of god out there, is going to bring her back.

So, Sam swallows down his pride, and says, “It’s you.”

“Yeah, I heard you say that before. ‘Just you.’ How can I-I be so stu-stupid?” Her voice wavers and shit she’s crying, isn’t she? He made her cry.

“And I mean that. Hey, come here.” Sam doesn’t want to hold her too tightly, afraid to hurt her, but he has to know that she isn’t going to leave, that she’s going to stay and listen to him. She turns to look at him, tears flowing down her cheeks, nose red, lips quivering, and Sam’s heart just about breaks. He did that. He’s never felt more like an asshole. “It is just you. It has been since the start. I promise.”

She doesn’t say anything. Just waits. And Sam feels like he’s back in school, standing in front of his class, giving a presentation.

“I, uh, did I ever tell you that I was in prison once?” Sam manages to get out. He always knew he was going to have this conversation with her, knew that with how their relationship was going, he couldn’t keep her in the dark much longer, but he had hoped that he would at least be wearing pants for this.

“No,” she breathes out, wiping her nose with a tissue she got from his bedside table. Huh. Was that tissue box always there? Anyway. “But I figured.”

“The tattoos?”

“No,” she says again and by some miracle there’s a smile on her lips. It’s small, gone with a blink of an eye, but Sam knows what he saw, has all of her smiles memorized. “Someone like you just has the talent of getting into trouble.”

And Sam can’t help it. He lets out a laugh because it’s true. She knows him.

“Well, I can’t deny that. But anyway,” He clears his throat. Was talking always this hard? “When I was in prison. In Panama—that’s important. This was when I was in Panama. I was there for thirteen years and, Jesus, time moves differently there. It’s like the days can’t go by fast enough but next thing you know a year has passed by, two, three, and you’ve lost your youth because some asshole decided to get all stabby with the guard.”

The words are spilling out, like he can’t get them out of him fast enough. Because he needs her to know, to understand.

“It wasn’t my fault. Well, okay, I was there on purpose at first, but those thirteen years were like a punishment for what that asshole did. I was supposed to die there. We were escaping, we were almost there, almost free, but I got shot and I fell. The guards found me and got some ‘doctors’ to patch me up. They made sure that if I was going to die, I was going to die because I rotted in that hellhole.”

Sam can see that she’s listening, that she’s hanging onto every word so he continues, because now that he’s started, he can’t stop.

“I was only in my twenties. There was so much I wanted to see, to do. Nathan and I had plans, dreams. We were going to go all over the world. But I was stuck there. Alone. And no one knew that I was alive. It’s like I stopped existing. Sometimes.” The words are stuck. But Sam forces them out. “Sometimes I, uh, I wished it were true, that it would be better if I was just gone. That I had just died back there.”

She’s crying again and Sam wipes her tears for her, brings her closer to him. Because these tears aren’t because of him anymore, but for him. And isn’t that something? Having someone cry for you.

“You don’t realize how much you have until everything is practically ripped away from you. I didn’t have any privacy. I…I couldn’t take a leak when I needed to. You just end up thinking, cuz there really isn’t much to do but think, about what you had. How life was good. And I, I just missed everything. I missed Nathan, of course, he’s my little brother. But, it’s the small things, too. Like riding my bike into the sunset. Grass beneath my feet. A glass of cold water. And…”

“And?” She asks, eyes focused on the gunshot scars on his abdomen, fingers tracing their shape. It tickles.

“And the smell of citrus.” He makes her look at him because this is important. The most important thing. “I missed the smell of citrus. The taste. And when I was in Japan, I thought about it again. The things I missed back here, back at home. And it’s citrus—you. I missed you so much, you wouldn’t believe it. I could have called Nathan. Elena, even. To come over here but I called you because,” Sam clears his throat once more. “Because I wanted you here. I had hoped you would be here when I came back. And you were.”

She’s quiet, eyes searching. And Sam’s poured out his heart and soul and now he’s got nothing else to do but wait and see what she does with it. Is this what being honest is like? Being vulnerable? It’s torture. Sam hates it. But he can also think of worse things and that keeps him rooted in his spot, trying to keep his face as honest as he can. Years of hiding is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

“You must have been so lonely.” Is what she says, hands back on his gunshot wounds. She’s transfixed. Almost like she’s been wondering about them forever. And maybe she has. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Eh. It’s all in the past,” Sam says with a shrug. Because it is in the past. He’s made his peace with it. Mostly. Some things are harder to shake off than others but he’s okay now. He’s built from strong stuff, a sturdy breed. “But, y’know. You’re, uh, killing me here.”

“Killing you?”

“Cuz I don’t know what you’re going to do,” Sam admits. It’s all truth from here on out, huh? “I can’t read you right now. Are you gonna leave? Punch me in the face? Report me? Please don’t report me. I’d really hate to go back to jail. Nathan would kill me. And I still have a few years left to go, y’know?”

She smiles and Sam realizes that he was rambling. He takes a breath, feels himself calm down. Damn. He needs a cigarette. Maybe two. Are his hands shaking? They’re definitely shaking.

“I think you have more than a ‘few years,’” she says, fingers tracing scars. Sam twitches from her touch. Is this what it feels like when he touches her back? “Especially if you stop smoking.”

“I’ve heard it all before.”

“You should start listening.”

“Ah. Someday.” Sam takes her hand in his, mostly to stop her stop her from tickling him, but also to bring them back on topic. Because she still hasn’t said anything. Nothing to give him an idea where they go from here, if there is somewhere to go from here. “So?”

“So…” She leans close, talks in a whisper, like if she speaks any louder, something might shift, break this bubble that they’re in. “So, you have to tell me what you want, Sam.” It’s an echo of what he said to her months ago, a vulnerable, fragile moment just like this. “So I know what to give you.”

But this time is different because she’s always been more generous than him, always been willing to give.

And Sam’s always been someone to take what he wants and he’ll be damned if this time is any different.

“It would be nice if you stayed.”

“Stay? I can do that.”

...

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

...

Sam’s apartment was inspired by @missdictatorme​ ‘s post

[serasvictoria]

Stupid Games - Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: Ubbe x Reader, Hvitserk x Reader, Hvitserk x Reader x Ubbe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Double penetration (it was kind of unavoidable I think?)

Word Count: 12.846 total

Summary: You used to live next to the Lothbroks when you were younger, but you moved away and haven't seen them since. A wedding brings you back to town after many years and during a bachelorette party you run into the brothers again.

Notes: Part two! What else can I say? More smut.

The movie that I mention in one paragraph is Y tu mamá también which is an excellent movie that I cannot recommend enough.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three (Part 1)

Screencap provided by @underragingwaves. Other images from Pinterest.

Tagging @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @ritual-unions-gotme @vikingstrash @pomegranates-and-blood @quantumlocked310 @adrille88 @actual-queen-of-hell @youbloodymadgenius @punkrocknpearls @zuxiezendler

*****

You woke up wedged between two bodies the next morning. Ubbe was on his back and your head was resting on his chest, your leg shoved in between his thighs and your hand draped around his waist. Hvitserk lay sprawled out on top of you, head pressed against your shoulder and you could feel him drooling all over you. He had his leg over your hip and when you looked down, you saw that it was also wrapped over his older brother’s thigh.

If you didn’t know them so well, you might find this entire sleeping arrangement odd, but the relationship that they had with each other had always been overly familiar. Even as teenagers, seeing Hvitserk and Ubbe pressed closely against each other’s side during movie nights had been fairly normal. They also constantly pressed their foreheads together and they never cared who saw them do it either.

They were very comfortable around each other so why should you feel otherwise? And that knowledge combined with what had happened last night, made you wonder how often they had done something like this before.

For some reason you thought about a movie that you had seen once, which centered around the friendship between two Mexican boys and a road trip that they have with an older woman. The movie was incredibly sexy and very sad at the same time. The relationship between the boys deteriorated throughout the movie with jealousy and betrayal at the heart of it all, but at the end, fueled by alcohol, all three of them end up in bed together and after a kiss between the two male leads, it is very much left up to the imagination of the viewer what actually happened. Odd that you would think of such a sad movie at a time like this, while laying in between these two.

Ubbe shifted underneath you and you heard a low chuckle before his hand shot out, connecting sharply with skin. Only it wasn’t your skin...

“Serk!” Ubbe groaned and you felt Hvitserk move. “Get off of her.”

“No.” Hvitserk’s voice sounded sluggish, his lips moving over your shoulder blade as he spoke. Then his hips jerked up against your ass, his growing erection pressed in between the tops of your thighs and you felt his lips creep up into a smile. “Why’d you hit me?”

“Thought it was sleeping beauty over here.” Ubbe tickled your side and made you snort with laughter. “Didn’t know you were on top of her.”

“You didn’t notice that I was a lot heavier than I was last night?” you asked him. “I know that your brother isn’t exactly a heavy weight, but the weight of us combined should have told you that it wasn’t just me that was on top of you.”

“It’s still early.”

“You’re an idiot, Ubbe.” Hvitserk started laughing uncontrollably and you could feel him shift as he started kissing a trail from your shoulder up to your neck. “All bulk and no brain. Sad really.”

“You did not just say that.” Ubbe’s arm reached around you to shove Hvitserk off of you and seconds later you were on your back as Ubbe pinned you underneath him. “Anything else you wanted to say?”

“At least you’re easy on the eye so you’ve got that going for you.” You squealed with laughter when his lips descended on your shoulder and he started biting you. “Stop!”

“No.” Ubbe tried to make his voice sound low and threatening, but you could hear the obvious amusement in his tone. “You deserve this. Bad girls need to be taught a lesson.”

“I didn’t lie. I just thought that you deserved to be told the truth,” you replied defiantly, only for your words to grow higher pitched the harder he bit you. “Are you marking me?”

“He is.” When you turned your head in the direction of Hvitserk’s voice, you saw him lying on his side next to you, head propped up with his arm and his other hand lazily stroking his cock. “You’re such a child, brother.”

“Takes one to know one.” Ubbe’s words sounded muffled because he hadn’t pulled his mouth away from your neck yet. “Do you yield?”

“I don’t know. I think I got this one in the bag.” One of his hands connected with your thigh sharply and you yelped. “I can still win this thing, big guy.”

Ubbe pulled away from you and flipped you on your stomach in a flash. His palm came down on your right ass cheek almost instantly. Then his hand connected with the other cheek and the sound of him spanking you started echoing through the room. You pushed your hips up off the bed to provide him better access and pressed your face into a pillow to muffle your cries.

There was another hand on your arm, belonging to Hvitserk, his caress comforting. His gentle touch combined with what his older brother was doing to your behind was giving you a delicious mix of sensations. Hvitserk shoved his hand underneath your chest suddenly, fingers seeking out the nipple closest to him and his fingernails dug into your pliant flesh.

Twisting your head to the side, you cried out, “Enough with the foreplay! Someone fuck me already!”

There was one final slap on your ass, harder than the ones that had preceded it, and then Ubbe’s hand slipped between your thighs to cup your sex. You pressed back against his hand, low moan escaping from your lips when he found you sufficiently wet and then he was gone.

“You’re ready,” he grunted from your side and you sat up on your knees to see him lying next to you, settled on his back with his arms folded behind his head. “Come on then.”

“Lazy bastard.” Your eyes flicked down to his groin and his cock was already proudly standing at attention. “What happens if I refuse?” Ubbe shot up, wrapped his hand around your upper arm and fixed you with such a powerful stare that you stopped breathing. It also made all your heart rate increase so much that you thought that your heart might burst out of your chest at any second. “Damn, Ubbe,” you finally breathed. “Was that supposed to intimidate me or turn me on more?”

“Both,” he replied with a self-satisfied smile. He gave you a quick kiss and lay back down. “Now get on top of me.”

You turned your attention to Hvitserk before complying with Ubbe’s request. Hvitserk was still laying there and seemed content to just watch for now. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you moved your hand in between your legs, the pad of your finger lazily rubbing up and down between your folds. It was almost like he knew what was coming next.

When your finger was coated in your own juices, you moved it towards his lips and he opened his mouth wide for you. Since he had a thing for your taste and was going to have to wait his turn, it felt like you were offering him an appetizer. He grabbed your wrist, sucking on your finger greedily. You winked at him when he released you and moved back to Ubbe who still had that same smug expression on his face as before.

Ubbe grinned up at you when you straddled him and you gave his cock a few strokes before guiding him into you. You sat back slowly, taking him in inch by inch until he was completely inside you. You kept your movements languid and unhurried. It was too early to ride him like a cowgirl might ride a wild bull and the way that Ubbe was gazing up at you told you that he didn’t necessarily mind taking it slow. You’d grind down, getting as much friction out of it as possible, while he’d lazily push up.

“You are so fucking sexy, baby,” Hvitserk groaned next to you and your eyes briefly flitted over to meet his. The second you looked away, Ubbe pinched your thigh, a silent reminder to make sure you kept all your attention focused on him. “So jealous, brother.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now boys, no fighting.” You threw your head back and moaned loudly when Ubbe thrust up once with more force. “Plenty of me to go round.”

Those words seemed to spur Hvitserk on for some reason. He pushed himself up suddenly and seconds later, he was sitting behind you, in between his brother’s legs. Ubbe’s hands were already on your hips and Hvitserk covered them with his own. You felt Hvitserk give his brother’s hands an almost comforting squeeze and Ubbe chuckled lowly in reply. You got the feeling that they were silently communicating with each other, having grown so in tune over the years that they didn’t even need words at times.

“Fuck off, Serk.” There was one final tap on the back of Ubbe’s hands before Hvitserk settled his hands on your ass. “And ask first.”

“Ask me what?”

Hvitserk started kissing your neck and didn’t say anything. The longer the silence dragged on, the more curious you were getting. When he slid his thumbs in between the cleft of your ass though, you could practically guess at what his true intent was.

His hands followed the curve of your ass first, fingers caressing and exploring, squeezing occasionally. One of his thumbs brushed up against your other hole once, his touch so light that it could be thought of as accidental, but it soon grew more insistent. He still hadn’t asked you anything, but the way that he was massaging you down there, applying more pressure with every push of his finger, made you think that he was probably giving you an opportunity to tell him off. When you didn’t say anything, he groaned against your shoulder and moved one hand up to your chin so he could tilt your head back.

His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice husky when he spoke. “You gonna let me fuck your ass, sexy?” Hvitserk had talked just loud enough for Ubbe to hear. It was immediately clear that Ubbe was more than into this as well, because he thrust his hips up hard and fast into you a couple of times. “While my brother fills up your pussy?”

“Just be…” Your sentence was cut short when Ubbe pushed up harshly, tearing a sudden gasp from your throat. Hvitserk’s teeth were on your shoulder, biting you in the same spot where Ubbe had marked you earlier. “It’s been a while…”

“I can be gentle,” Hvitserk breathed against your skin. “Make sure you’re ready for me first.” You rocked your hips back and forth just to give Ubbe some of the movement that he sought so much before pushing your ass back against Hvitserk’s hand. “What do you say?”

If your mouth could form words, you would have replied, but try as you might nothing but harsh gasps and moans were coming out. When Hvitserk’s palm connected with your behind sharply, you were pulled out of your daze and moaned a low “yes”. He pressed his forehead against the base of your neck and whispered your name once. His voice sounded almost grateful that you had given him your consent and then he pulled away abruptly.

Hvitserk got off the bed completely and you could hear him rummaging around in one of the bedside cabinets. The thought of what was about to happen was almost too much and you threw your head back to move your hips a bit more forcefully against Ubbe. He groaned underneath you and thrust up, hitting the right spot within you every single time.

The bed dipped when Hvitserk got back on it and you looked over to him so you could see his excited grin before he took up his position behind you again. He put a hand on your shoulder and urged you to stop moving which you did with a sigh that was meant to convey your annoyance.

His long fingers brushed down your spine, following the line until they dipped down low enough. His touch was brief and lasted mere seconds. When you heard something plasticy behind you, a bottle being popped open, that just made it all the more real. This was actually going to happen. You had stopped moving all together now and then you felt his hand in between your shoulder blades, pressing you forward. Your face was inches from Ubbe and your eyes were firmly focused on each other, your breathing already coming in quick and short gasps in anticipation.

Hvitserk’s lubed finger started working on you gently, pressing inside at an unhurried pace. You gasped and from the way that Ubbe’s face twitched told you that you must have inadvertently clenched your walls around him. You’d apologise if you were able to, but the sensation of a finger slowly moving in and out of you while Ubbe’s cock was filling up your pussy to the brim was quite unlike anything that you had experienced ever before.

You shifted your hips, moaning while Hvitserk added another finger as Ubbe kept staring up at you in amazement. You kept squeezing your eyes shut because of this continued assault on your senses, but every time that you opened them Ubbe was looking straight at you. His bright blue eyes never once left your face and it gave you the feeling like he was studying your facial expression, as if to constantly make sure that you genuinely wanted to go through with this.

You flashed him what you hoped was a confident smile and it wasn’t until he smiled back that you were pleased that you had been able to convey your willingness. Closing the distance, your lips met his and despite what was happening, Ubbe’s hips gently moving underneath you and Hvitserk’s fingers working you open, the kiss was surprisingly tender and sweet.

“Think you’re ready for me.” The spell was broken when Hvitserk spoke and you briefly looked at him over your shoulder, making sure he saw the same smile that Ubbe had seen just now.

Hvitserk’s fingers shoved up roughly one last time, his control fast slipping, before removing them entirely. His hand suddenly came back at the top of your spine, pushing you further down still so he could get the right angle to enter you from. You pressed your chin on Ubbe’s broad shoulder. His movements underneath you are kept to a bare minimum, just enough to remind you that he’s still there. As if you could forget that when his cock had been keeping your pussy nice and full this entire time.

One final firm slap against your ass and then Hvitserk slowly started easing the tip of his cock into you. A string of expletives started tumbling from your lips as Hvitserk pressed himself into you at a snail’s pace and you worked so hard to stay relaxed, but without Ubbe’s comforting eyes on you, it was so hard.

As if sensing this, he moved his hands up from your hips to wrap them around your back, his touch instantly comforting you. The amount of pleasure that you felt almost overtook you and you already knew that you weren’t going to last long. The boys had ceased moving and you suddenly realised that Hvitserk was fully inside of you.

Two sets of hands grabbed your hips then, covering each other like before, squeezing you this time to silently let you know what a good job you were doing without saying anything. They gave you a short moment to get used to this new sensation, but that was all that you were getting. You let out a low moan when Ubbe tilted his hips up tentatively and when you shifted, you inadvertently pushed back against Hvitserk behind you, making your next moan sound more like a whine.

“I-I’m not g-gonna last,” you gasped when Hvitserk moved his hips back and forth. As soon as he stopped moving, Ubbe took over. “Fuck!” you cried out. “T-that feels so good…”

It didn’t take them long to find their rhythm, moving in tandem as they kept you impossibly full from both sides. You had no control over the sounds that you were making and the only thing that you hoped was that you weren’t drooling all over Ubbe’s shoulder at this point.

They were wrecking you. There was no other word for it.

Losing his control once more, Hvitserk started thrusting in and out of you harder and faster, to the point where it was simply impossible for Ubbe to keep up with the pace that he was now setting. Somewhere in between his gruelling movements, you felt your walls tighten, screaming through your teeth right into Ubbe’s ear as your climax tore through you. There was no chance to come down though, because every time that one of them moved, a new wave engulfed you and pulled you back down into the depths.

They had taken everything out of you. There was nothing left to give. You let out a shaky breath, your arms shook as you moved them because your muscles wouldn’t stop spasming. Moving together, you felt Ubbe’s lips on your clavicle and Hvitserk kissed you on the other side, on your shoulder. You realised that they were probably able to look at one another and briefly wondered what kind of silent communication was going on between them at the moment.

“Just a bit longer, hot stuff.” Those words reminded you that they weren’t done yet and you gritted your teeth when Hvitserk started pounding your ass in earnest to push himself over the edge. He was relentless, pushing you to lengths that you hadn’t thought possible before this. You were grateful when his rhythm finally faltered and he pulled out suddenly. You were so far gone at that point that you barely noticed that he painted your back with streaks of his cum. “Fuuuuuuuuck…”

The second that Hvitserk had pulled away, Ubbe grabbed handfuls of your ass and flipped you over with a growl. You yelped when your back connected with the mattress, but your noises were quickly silenced when he pressed his lips down on yours in a fiery kiss. Silencing your cries, he buried himself inside of you again in one quick thrust and started snapping his hips against yours hard and fast as he sought his own release.

Your nails scratched at his skin like you were some wild animal that was caught in the final death throes as some predator tried to rip its throat out. You wailed as Ubbe drove himself into you deeper and deeper, your whole body burning up as he managed to pull yet another climax out of you. His body dropped down on yours, his arms unable to hold him up anymore and your name was one long drawn out moan on his lips when he finally spilled his seed deep inside of you.

“Fuck.” He was taking deep gulps of air into his lungs, just as out of breath as you were. Your hands were still lazily wrapped around him and you slid them up to his head now so you could scratch at his shaved sides with your fingernails. He chuckled and then said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You sounded so hoarse that your throat was burning with every word that came out of your mouth. “That was incredible.”

“Laying on top of you.” He pressed his hips against yours one last time before rolling off of you. When his already softening cock slipped out of your pussy, you could feel a trail of fluid trickling out. “Didn’t break you, did I?”

“Just my voice, big guy.”

“Good,” he replied with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to break that sweet pussy of yours.”

“You’re such a sweet talker,” you replied with a giggle. “I don’t think I can walk anymore.”

“Mission accomplished, brother,” Hvitserk said from your other side. He reached out and started running his hand up and down your torso lazily, his fingers edging down lower with every pass. You pushed his hand away several times, but he would not be deterred. He propped himself up with his arm so he could look you in the eye. “I wanna eat you out.”

“Serk… I can’t...” “You can take it,” he said before you could finish your sentence. “Last one. I promise.”

“But Ubbe just…”

“So?” Before you could protest any more, he’d pushed himself up on his knees and moved to sit in between your legs. He loomed over you, his hands settling on your neck and then skimmed them down your chest. Your muscles spasmed in protest, but he ignored it. “Brother.”

Ubbe pushed himself up into a sitting position and pulled you against his chest. His big hands cupped your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples lazily. Hvitserk settled down on his stomach and pushed your thighs further apart. He blew hot air on your overworked pussy first then he dipped his head down and covered your swollen lips with his mouth. Hvitserk moaned against your core when he caught a taste of your juices mixed in with his older brother’s seed.

“Christ,” you said breathlessly, your hips coming off the mattress to push up against his face. “I can’t take this…”

“Shhh,” Ubbe crooned in your ear, his tone encouraging. “You’re a little trooper, you can handle anything.” The corner of your mouth twitched up and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from crying out loudly. “Told you that he loves doing this… might as well let him...”

*****

Unsurprisingly, you had fallen asleep again afterwards.

When you woke up again, you lay between them once more, enveloped in their warmth. Ubbe’s chest was pressed against your back, his breathing slow and steady. Hvitserk was in front of you, his hand lazily rubbing up and down your side. He wasn’t aware that you had woken up until you craned your head to look at the window and tried to figure out what time it was. There was a lot more light streaming through the curtains than there was when you first woke up. But it was practically impossible to determine whether that meant that it was morning or midday.

Before you could check if there was a clock hanging on one of the walls, Hvitserk had already cupped your face and pulled your head back down so he could kiss you. “Morning.” You caught sight of his beautiful smile before he moved back in again.

“Still morning then?”

“Think so.” He kept kissing you while the two of you talked. “Why? You got somewhere else you need to be?”

“I’d like to get out of bed at one point or another.”

“I won’t let you.” He started grinning against your lips and then he slid his tongue into your mouth when you meant to talk again. “We can stay here all day if you want to.”

“If either of you fucks me again, I might be forced to do just that.” Hvitserk seemed to think that you had meant that and one of his hands slid down your body a bit too quickly, like he was in a rush. You willingly opened your thighs for him and he nipped at your bottom lip when he found out that you were already getting aroused. “That was not an invitation.”

“You opened your legs for me,” he retorted. “I’d say that was an invitation.”

His fingers worked to get you more wet by the second and soon you were so soaked that you could hear his digits move as he slid them up and down. But you also were fully awake by now and somehow determined not to make it easy on him. You slammed your legs shut suddenly, trapping his hand between them. When he tried to twist his hand away, you clenched down harder and started giggling when he huffed in frustration.

“You are such a little tease.” He tried to sound annoyed, but you could feel him grinning against your skin when he ran his lips over your jaw. He used the same words back when the two of you were younger. He was constantly telling you how much you teased him, even over things that had not even remotely been meant to provoke a reaction from him. Somehow he managed to pull his hand free and he surged his hips forward so his erection was pressing against the top of your thigh. “Open up for me, baby.”

“No.” It was difficult to keep this up when you wanted it just as badly as he did, but you tried to fight the urge just a little bit longer. Making him work for it had always been very arousing to you and it still seemed to affect you now. Hvitserk had been quite prone to losing his cool and you always took some odd kind of satisfaction out of being the one that tipped him over the edge. “I think I want to get out of bed now.”

“Like hell you are,” he grumbled. Suddenly, he grabbed your hands which had been pressed against his chest, pulled you away from Ubbe and pushed you on your back. He caged you in his arms, his loose hair tickling your face, and he flashed you a grin before he descended on your neck. You couldn’t help but moan when he started sucking marks on the column of your throat which he then swiped his tongue over. “Still like pushing me.”

“Uh-huh.” He rammed his knee in between your thighs and pried them open. “You always act like some wild animal when I hold out on you.”

He barked out a laugh. Reaching down suddenly to grab one of your thighs forcefully, he pulled it to the side so he could move his narrow hips in between the opening that he had just created. His cock brushed up against your wet folds and he ran it over them teasingly a few times. He dipped his head down further and dragged his lips over your sternum. When he turned his mouth to the side, he started sucking on your skin and when he pulled away to look at what he had done, you saw that a red mark was already forming on the top of your breast.

“I want you so bad,” he whispered and he reached down so he could line himself up. “Always wanted you.” He didn’t allow you any time to prepare, because he plunged himself into you with one quick slam of his hips. “Fuck, baby. I’m not gonna last.”

“Me neither.” His movements were hurried and when you let out a loud moan, Ubbe stirred next to you and your eyes darted over to him for a split second. “Won’t he…”

“Not unless you start screaming,” he managed to get out in between grunts. “And you’re gonna have to be loud.”

“So make me,” you countered.

There was another laugh and he pulled out just so he could thrust back inside. “Fuck. Your. Pussy. Is. So. Fucking. Needy.” Every single one of his words was punctuated by a thrust. You wrapped your legs around his narrow waist and dug your heels into his ass in an attempt to guide his movements a little. It only made him pound into you all the harder.

Hvitserk really seemed to be taking your comment about not being able to leave the bed if someone fucked you again quite seriously. For he seemed very determined to make sure that you would never be able to walk again. Every time that he tore a louder moan from your throat, he laughed breathlessly, pulled out completely for a few short seconds before continuing his onslaught. You could feel your body start to burn, a combination of your impending orgasm and from your muscles having been worked to within an inch of their lives.

You cupped his face with your hands and pulled him down so you could press an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. It was more sloppy than anything else, but you hoped that he also caught on to how it was meant to be received as a loving gesture. He attempted to deepen the kiss, but it was an entirely futile effort. You were both panting too hard to be able to do anything else other than just share each other’s hot breath. Frustrated that what he wanted to do wasn’t exactly working, he growled once and pressed his forehead against yours instead.

Since you didn’t have to hold his face in place anymore, you slid your hands through his hair. When you twisted your fingers in a few strands and gave a light tug, you noticed that a few muscles in his face twitched and that his eyes fluttered shut momentarily. Hvitserk obviously liked having his hair pulled. You wouldn’t be entirely surprised if that was the main reason why he kept it long to begin with.

The muscles in your thighs spasmed, tightening around him as your climax started to build. You made a noise that was halfway between a sob and a moan and despite somehow knowing that your combined noises had woken up Ubbe a while ago, you were still surprised when a hand suddenly shoved itself in between your bodies, a single long finger finding your swollen clit with ease and swirling around it in hurried movements.

It took everything you had in you not to scream your release straight into Hvitserk’s face, though knowing him, he probably would have loved that. Instead, you bit your lower lip hard enough so that you could taste the metallic tang of your own blood. Your orgasm burned through you in the same manner that a fire would rush through a forest if there was a strong wind to make it spread faster, burning everything in its path. Hvitserk in turn was unable to keep looking at you and dropped his head down to your neck. He repeated your name over and over again, his hips managing just a few more tiny thrusts before he finished.

You were vaguely aware of Ubbe moving next to you, mumbling something about breakfast before he disappeared altogether and left you alone with Hvitserk.

Hvitserk’s breath was still coming hard and fast. It took you a while before you were able to move again and every muscle in your body burned like you’d just run a marathon. For no reason at all, you poked a finger in his side lazily and when he laughed, you laughed along with him. It was that infectious. But when he suddenly stopped laughing and went quiet, you ran your hands up and down his back. You got the feeling that he was building up to something and waited patiently for him to vocalise it.

“Is this…” You could feel his Adam's apple moving when he swallowed hard to moisten his throat. “Is this real?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Dunno.” He suddenly pushed himself up with his arms so he could look you in the eye as his face hovered over yours. “Could be dreaming.”

“Are you implying that I’m just a figment of your imagination? Hm? Is that what I am?”

“Maybe.” He sounded slightly unsure of himself for some unfathomable reason. “Who knows what you are.”

“Serk.” You cupped his face very much like you did earlier and simply held him while you peered deeply into his hazel eyes. “I’m just me. Same as I’ve always been.” Lifting your head off the pillow, you gave him a light kiss. “You’re acting funny.”

“Am I?” He tried to turn his head to look away, but you firmly kept him in place. Something was up, but you didn’t know what was wrong since he was being evasive for some reason. “You know something…”

“Hmm?” He kissed you this time and since you weren’t panting messes at the moment, he could deepen the kiss. Your mouths moved together with ease, like this was how it was supposed to be. You hummed contently when he broke the kiss and started leaving light kisses all over your face instead. “What were you gonna say?”

“What?” You just caught sight of his radiant smile before he left alternating kisses on your eyelids. “Wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You were.” His movements got more urgent and you pinched his side. “Don’t distract me.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“Later.” When you looked less than impressed, he sighed deeply and nuzzled his nose against your neck to leave gentle kisses in a place where he wouldn’t be able to see your facial expression. “I promise.” He dipped his head down lower so he could drag his lips over your clavicles. “I just… it feels like I’ll ruin everything if I say it.”

“You know you’re only making me more curious, right?”

“I’m sorry.” He halted his movements and laid his head on your chest. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders and placed the other one on the top of his head. “Can we just lay here for a bit longer?”

“If that’s what you want.”

What Hvitserk had wanted to tell you was still a complete mystery by the time that he released you and pulled you along with him to get out of bed, but it was pretty clear that he was slowly building up to that so you decided not to pressure him.

He would tell you in his own time...

[ssa-steverogers]

𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙜𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨

pairing ╏ aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count ╏ 2.4k

summary ╏ a couple years have passed, and aaron and reader begin to question their status; inspired by two ghosts by harry styles

warnings ╏ none (?) please tell me if i missed anything x

note ╏ guys. i haven't written fanfics for like three years!1!!1!1! so i apologize in advance for any mistakes and grammar errors! i do hope you enjoy though! and also for the sake of the fic, jack and haley don't exist sorry guys lol and the ending is kind of bonk bonk but leave a like, comment, or reblog if you want! <3

I couldn’t pick up the phone. I sat back on the chair in the apartment we bought a couple years ago. But it tasted bittersweet just thinking about it; something I was supposed to cherish but couldn’t. The two plates of food on the table were now dull. What was once smoking and bled with heat was now encrusted in a dry film; unappetizing.

The phone continued to ring. Once. Twice. A pause. Once. Twice. Three times. But after the eleventh call, I figured he stopped. Aaron had forgotten his key that morning. It's almost humorous how he could tell the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath in his sleep but forgot the simplest things like our house key. And our fifth anniversary.

Earlier today, I had asked Aaron to go home early. But even after five years of marriage, eight of living together, and ten of dating, he couldn’t seem to care less of my whereabouts lately. Distracted, distant, and rigid.

“Hotch,” I swung into his dimly lit office earlier that day, “I'm going to be headed home early tonight. I-“

“Alright, see you at home,” Aaron continued writing his paperwork and took half a second to glance up at me. It’s unclear if he meant to cut me off or not but it didn’t matter because it would’ve hurt either way. Distant, I thought. A quick look at his office and nothing would’ve seemed different but I thought I saw more clutter than usual.

“Okay, well... I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late!” I tried to look past it, for now. I blew a kiss his way and he looked up to smile at me briefly. The smile reached his eyes but I couldn't tell if it was genuine. His pen didn’t stop writing. Distracted, I thought. “Bye, I love you,” I breathed out and quickly shut the door, walking out to gather my stuff. I didn’t wait for his reply; unsure if he even had one. I wondered what he’d say. And if it’d hurt more than what his words didn’t say.

Looking at my watch on the way to my desk, it was half past four and it was clear to say that no one was done with paperwork yet.

“Where are you going?” Spencer questions, catching Emily’s attention. She looks up from her pile of work as well.

“Well, things to do and places to be,” I smiled at the two, putting my tablet into my bag. I grabbed my gun from my drawer and put it to my holster. Emily smiled knowingly. She knew it was me and Aaron’s fifth anniversary. Emily even helped pick out the perfect outfit for tonight’s homemade dinner. She also knew about Aaron’s behavior lately. We both thought of it and we discussed every scenario except the worst one yet. He wouldn’t do that to me, I would think to myself, not after what Haley did to him. It was the unspoken what if that I wasn't ready to swallow yet.

Emily and Spencer waved me goodbye and she wished me good luck, along with a smile that was poisoned in pity. I was almost entirely sure it wasn’t on purpose but I wasn’t sure of anything at that point. I walked out the door, into the elevator, and it felt so repetitive. The same elevator every day, the same building every day, living the same life every single day. I’d casually mention to Aaron how the repetition felt like a lot sometimes over paperwork in our office at home and he’d hum quietly. Maybe in agreement. We both loved our job. The same thing every time; but we were saving lives. Maybe it was the effect of his changed behavior. Maybe he felt it because he thought my behavior changed as well.

The same thing every time; coming home separately, even though we used to come back together. We were drifting and although it wasn’t the first time, we always resolved it. Things happen and we’d come out stronger and I had never had a doubt. Sometimes the job was hard and I was there for him, and he was there for me but it was different this time. He'd come home late and I'd be asleep by the time he got back. Then, I started to do paperwork at the local coffee shop and he’d be sitting in our office, waiting for me to get back.

No words would be exchanged once we were together for the night. Maybe a ‘hey’ or ‘how was your day?’ and then a simple ‘good.’ We’d both change our clothes and get into the bed. We were getting further and further away every night in bed. Too exhausted to think of words for this odd place we were in. Sometimes he'd hug me and take a deep breath and I'd release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Something was just not working this time. Trust your gut, Aaron used to say to me when I first joined the BAU. My gut told me that this couldn’t keep on going at the rate this seemed to be deteriorating.

All these moments led to right now. The phone rings beside me as Aaron waits outside in the drizzling rain at eight o’clock, without the key that he forgot this morning. I unlocked my phone to read the messages exchanged earlier tonight.

today 7:40

y/n: hey aaron are you still at the office?

love: Yes, is there something going on?

y/n: aaron

love: Yes?

y/n: oh you forgot, didn’t you?

love: Forgot?

y/n: aaron, it’s our anniversary?

read 7:46

I purse my lips and wonder if he still loves me. Of course, he does, my mind wanders, would he have been with you for ten years if he didn’t? I chuckle sadly. The food on the table now cold, the outfit Emily and I chose doesn’t seem so perfect anymore. The candles on the tables nearly half melted. The dining room looked eerie now, sitting by myself on a Thursday night with two uneaten plates of food with candles nearly burnt out.

That’s when I hear him knocking on the door gently.

“Y/N? Please let me in. I didn't forget, I just,” Aaron’s sigh is muffled by the door but I hear it clear as day when I get out of my seat and walk up to the door. I think he hears me walking to the front and continues. “I was distracted. Something isn’t right between us right now and we should talk about it. I’m sorry, Y/N, please let me in so we can talk.” I sigh in defeat and unlock the door, slowly. The door opens and his hair is flat from the rain, briefcase tucked under his arm with his phone in the other hand. But his posture isn’t as upright as it usually is – he probably knows he fucked up. I wonder if he’s been profiling me from my texts, or my current body language even though we promised we wouldn’t do that to each other.

He walks through the threshold of this house but his eyes don’t waver from mine as he sets his stuff down and puts his gun away in the drawer. A glimmer of his keys reflects the light in the drawer. It’s almost funny, how he remembers his gun but not his keys even though they were in the exact same place. It makes me wonder about the integrity of our situation and if he had left the keys on purpose.

I walk to the dining table with the food I made and turn away from Aaron. I’m not sure about what to say. I've obviously been avoiding this conversation for quite some time and even after all this procrastination; I still don’t even know what to say. I hear Aaron's footsteps from behind me and I wait to see if he has anything to say. After I'm sure that he doesn’t, I begin.

“Aaron,” I turn around to face him. I smile grimly, feeling tears prickle at the back of my eyes and it hurts to swallow, “What the hell happened to us?” Aaron stands there, arms crossed and a hand on his chin. Crossing arms suggests closing yourself off and is a gesture of defensiveness. “What happened to our Thursday night dates? Aaron- I don’t- I mean,” I struggle to complete a sentence when millions of thoughts are racing through my head, “I know you’re not happy. Sure, maybe everyone thinks that you don’t show a lot of emotion but I know you and you have a tell for specific things. When was the last time we really talked about how we felt about us? C’mon, Aaron, who are we bullshitting? We weren’t communicating and you know that it’s one of the most important parts of a healthy relationship.”

“Why are you using past tense?” Aaron asks and he’s doing the face he only gives to people he thinks are suspicious.

“What are you talking about? And why are you giving me that face?” I pause and Aaron tries to cut in but I get to it first. I make a face and pull my eyebrows together. “Are you profiling me right now?”

Aaron looks taken aback at my comment. “Are you?” Oh. When I don’t say anything he continues, “You’re using past tense when you mention our… marriage and relationship. If you have anything you want to say you should say it now. There really isn’t a better time,” His voice grows cold on me, the same way he does to unsubs we interrogate. I don’t think the ice in his tone is intentional but he probably can’t help it. He’s right though, should I confirm my suspicions? I don’t want to hear his answer to my question in fear that it might be the wrong one. But he is right, this conversation is long overdue.

“Are you cheating on me?” I breathe out at once. “Are you?” The tears are getting harder and harder to hold back and time seems to move slower by the second.

“Y/N, what? No, I'm not! Why would you think that? I could never do that to you. You know about Haley and how she cheated! And you think I'd do that to you?”

“You were just distant lately and-“

“Distant?” He pauses, I know he wouldn’t interrupt me if not necessary so I let him go on, “Y/N, so are you. I didn't think you were cheating. I thought you needed time and that I needed mine. I had thought about what you had said a couple weeks ago about how repetitive life felt.” I nodded at his words. “You’re not the only one who thinks that.” A pang of guilt radiates in my chest, because I think we both know how this was going to end.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” I walk a little closer to him and cradle his face in my hands. He rubs circles on my wrists, caressing me and I do the same to his face. Tears are spilling from my eyes, down my cheeks, “Aaron Hotchner, I love you more than anything in this whole entire fucking world. I know you love me and that I love you but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life and we both know what’s coming. It’s been unspoken for too long, I know that. But whatever happens, you have to know that I love you. We had our good days,” I look around to see picture frames on the walls of our relationship in earlier stages. Smiling, dancing, laughing. I remember each and every one of the pictures and thinking that this would be the man I would love for the rest of my days. “And we had bad days. There will never come a day that I forget all the wonderful things that we had. I’m using past tense now because I think-“

“I think you’re right,” Aaron quietly cuts me off. “We’re not the people we used to be. We’ve changed but we can’t grow like this. I love you too, more than words will ever be able to encompass but maybe we’re feeling stuck, not bored or repetitive.” I want to say something for the hell of being a couple for probably the last moments but I don’t want to stray far from the truth. Aaron’s eyebrows turn downwards a bit and his eyes are glimmering with tears. He envelopes my body in his and leaves a quiet kiss on my hairline.

I take a deep breath of air, trying to savor this moment for the rest of my life. My face is wet from tears and they won’t stop falling. I hiccup from the crying in his grasp so he plays with my hair fondly and almost inaudibly hums to me.

“Will we be okay? I mean,” A hiccup, or three. “I don’t want either of us to leave the BAU because of this but also will we be okay? In terms of feelings and… well, more feelings.”

“Of course,” Aaron begins. “I don’t love you any less but we both agree that things will be better this way. We just... go back to how it used to be before you asked me to a drink for the first time,” I can feel his small grin as he leans against my head. Being reminded of that day hurts now, but it has for a while anyway. I wonder if I hadn’t asked him to that drink one night after a local case, if we’d be where we are now. But I know everything here was nothing less than fate itself and that I probably shouldn’t dwell on what if’s.

And so after some moments of silence for something that would soon be gone, we stand underneath the dim lights of the dining room. Aaron holds me against his chest as we look at the candles on the table. They���re both burnt out. There’s no light there anymore. The candle has melted onto the chamberstick, leaving long trails of wax.

I hold him a little tighter and he does the same to me. I don’t know what the future holds but our two halves have drifted too far to come back together and that’s okay. I know things will be weird for a while but it’ll be okay.

“It’ll be okay,” I whisper under my breath. For the sake of us, we'd leave it here. Once upon a time, we were younger and more naive, better for each other then. But we're older now and we're stuck. Just two ghosts standing in the place of him and me.

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Did you hear about the Fraktz haunting in New South Wales (1995ish)?

It has gotten a little folklore-y and probably sensationalised over the years, but the basic premise is that Dina and Hans Fraktz were one of those overly helpful religious types, and were raising their three kids (Curtis - 11, Angie -8/9?, Louisa-May - 3) just about the same.

They lived in Albury, NSW which is in Australia in a dept of housing place, not much room but they made do and were always grateful to god about it. Enough that, as the story goes, it catches the attention of some demonic entities.

Belphorn bets that Lucifer can't corrupt the whole family in under a year, and of course the overachiever that he is, the head of hell says 'Hold my beer mate' and goes to work.

It starts as every horror movie starts, weird noises, bad dreams, smell of decay, something in the corner of their eye, etc. Louisa-May is the most sensitive, and of course, gets taken first after promising something to her 'imaginary friend'.

The paediatrician isn't sure what to do when her frantic parents present at the clinic with a toddler that keeps cackling maniacally and contorting in ways bodies shouldn't. They rationalise it's probably ehhlers-danlos sydrome or a varient, and this needs further observation. A referral for a specialist is provided, and that's that apparently.

Of course with a 'sick' child, the stress and tension in the house is high. Dina and Hanz are having whispered not-arguments so the kids won't hear, and Hanz pretends to ignore that Dina's gone back to smoking ten a day to keep herself calm. In the same way she turns a blind eye to his fermented grape juice dinners... and breakfasts.

Curtis shows the stress by acting out at school, getting detentions frequently and just skirting away from suspension by technicality alone. His friends distance themselves, he has no energy for footy anymore, and he can barely concentrate because something is always just behind him. He screams himself awake, begging it to just leave him alone, he'd do anything to just be left alone.

"Anything?" the shadow asks one night in late June, detaching from the wall. There's a few variations of the pact that the demon makes, but they all boil down to 'you can't be scared of us, if you're one of us' and Curtis is so tired he accepts.

The next morning Curtis is muttering in ancient sumerian under his breath, with bloodshot eyes and a strange echo to his voice.

Hanz speaks with their local minister about an exorcism, or some sort of spiritual guidance. A bake-sale to assist in medical care is organised, and a prayer night held for the two Fraktz children.

Nothing seems to change. Dina can only turn the crucifixes in the house rightside up so many time a day, and starts to just walk past them now. Who cares anymore?

Morning and Evening prayers go by the wayside, and even saying Grace falls out of fashion because its horrifying to hear it babbled back in dead languages, or one of your children shrieking at the holy words burning her ears...

By September, Dina's exhausted. Something's scurrying in the walls at night and she knows its not rats, it can't be. She checks on Curtis and Louisa-May to make sure it's not either of them climbing the walls again.

Hanz won't get up anymore, so she tends to wander the house with a flashlight trying to find the noise, and ignoring the lingering sensation of something breathing on her neck. She ignores it, because their minister said acknowledgement gives it power.

Something has written an ominous message across her kitchen wall in what is either blood or thick jelly, and that's the straw that breaks the camel's back. Dina bursts into tears and starts yelling for whatever was doing this to get the FUCK out of HER HOUsE because she JUST WASHED THAT WALL and WHO DID IT THINK IT WAS to go doing something like that?

Something knocks a few jars over, and four slash marks appear on the bench. Dina's scared but still angry, she screams at the air, turning in every direction. "What do you want? Tell me, and I'll do it, just leave us alone!"

By the time Hanz stumbled into the kitchen, swaying and dizzy from his skinfull, Dina wasn't there anymore. Well, at least, her body was.

Hanz would tell his neighbour, the minister and his church group about finding Dina walking on the ceiling and singing an old lullaby to the sleeping Louisa-May in her arms. She reportedly screams at him when he asks what in god's name is she doing?

Terrified, Angie asks her father if she can go stay with her aunty (Meryl) in Woodonga, just a town over. Hanz readily agrees, and drives her there himself, before again seeking assistance from the church.

The minister, clearly not ever having been prepared for such things when he'd accepted the small town position, was at a loss and offered platitudes. Using comparisons to Job to try and help Hanz feel that his faith was merely being tested, and not that God had abandoned him...

For the first time in his life, Hanz began to doubt in the power of the Lord. He left a few journal entries around October 1995, many of which contained the phrases "I feel like I'm going mad" and "I know I'm not crazy, but it feels like I am", as things spiralled out of control.

The main barrier to accessing help, is that Dina, Curtis and Louisa-May were perfectly capacble of acting like themselves when people came around. So Hanz came off as having some sort of mental health episode, and the minute they left, things deteriorated again.

At his wit's end, Hanz locked himself in his bedroom and begged the lord for help. Sobbing and pleading, clenching his hands so tightly in place that his nails pierced the soft flesh between his fingers and the crucifix imprinted on his palms.

It was not entirely clear what happened after this point, as the tales all like to make interesting claims but the key point is there were no actual witnesses, except Hanz and the already 'taken'. But by the next morning Hanz had been subsumbed by the entity as well.

Despite being with her aunty, Angie continued to have nightmares that she would shriek herself awake from, well into late November. Her aunt and two adult cousins would take turns reading to her, distracting her, and reminding Angie about Christmas coming up soon so she had something to look forwards to.

They also took turns sleeping on the floor by her little bed in the guest room, so that there was always someone to point out there was 'nothing there and nothing can hurt you' when Angie woke up distressed. [Her older cousin Deliah has a book about the ordeal, and I think it might be in e-reader, but you can google it if you want.]

So Christmas rolls around, and excitement for Santa overlays even the deepest fear of shadows, which seems to breathe some life back into little Angie. Her aunt is relieved, but is still fighting to get some in-home supports for her brother, his wife and their other two children; she knows something's wrong, but suspects it might be something in the old council pipes...

Angie struggles to keep her eyes open as the countdown begins, and just managed a solitary enthused 'tooooooooot' from her party blower before falling asleep on the couch against her other cousin, Javin. The adults laugh uproariously and take photos, for when she's old enough to be embarrassed by such things.

Oddly enough, the new year seems to have snapped the rest of the family out of their funk, as if 1996 has a power all of its own. Things seem to slip back into place as if people had not been puppeted by a demonic entity for nearly 12 months...

Down in hell Lucifer was fuming and Belphorn was far too smug.

But what could be said about the bet? Lucifer was bound to lose, because he didn't possess all the Fraktz.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Rise Of Glory || 6

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

Harry and I wander to the cobble steps to his mother's house, Alex asleep in Harry's arms from the long drive. The drive was quiet, not because I am tired but because I don't know what to say at this point. Nothing I do or say is going to change things or make anything better. I am at a loss.

The door opens, and his mother stands in the doorway, bewildered by our sudden appearance. I don't blame her. It is unlike us to abruptly show up on her doorstep. Most of the time, Harry gives her a heads up.

She grants us her routine tender smile and ushers us inside.

"What brings you two here suddenly?" Harry's Mum questions.

I glance towards Harry, curious as to what he plans to tell her. Telling your mother you only came to visit to see a grave is not something you'd want to admit out loud or at all.

"Uh," Harry clears his throat, "The media have swarmed my building and are starting to come out at the house. We came here to get a break," Harry answers, opening his arms to half-hug his mother, who he has missed dearly, he won't admit it, but he has. He may hate having to come to Cheshire, I don't think that will ever change, but he loves having his mother back in his life at a more constant and healthier level. Their relationship has improved tremendously since I came here when we first started dating all those years ago. I still remember that weekend like yesterday.

It was the weekend I realised that the man I was falling in love with gives everything he has, mentally, emotionally and physically, to his mother and sisters wellbeing. He'd allow himself to drown a million times if it meant his family could stay afloat.

"I'm going to put him down," Harry informs his mother and me, giving me a tired smile before walking past me and down the hallway towards Harry's old bedroom.

Harry's Mum peers over towards me, her brows furrowing and her lips pursing; I can tell her thoughts are ticking away and that something is playing intensely on her mind. She has the same expression Harry has when he wants to say something but leaves the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure of whether to say them or not.

I cock my head to the side, debating myself whether to give her the go-ahead to tell me whatever is on her mind.

"He's lying to me," Anne bluntly states before I can figure out how to ask her what's on her mind, "You had to have left at around 3 in the morning to be here by now. He's tired, almost like he hasn't slept in days," she points out, "And you… you look exhausted too. I don't believe it's the media at your house that caused you both to drive up here… I'm not complaining. I'm just… I'm curious."

"It has been a long week for him. He wanted to get away." I don't know who I am trying to convince more, myself or her.

"He hates it here with a passion. I have seen the articles."

I nod, agreeing with her. She knows the truth. Harry doesn't bother trying to hide the fact that he still hates this place. Even when we first started dating, he made it known he wasn't happy to be back. His home town brings back memories he doesn't want to remember, especially when he and his relationship with his mother were strained to the point they weren't speaking at all. "This is where he wanted to come."

"But it isn't where he wants to be… he hates it up here… are things that bad in London?" She questions softly, and I can't help but nod. She looks me up and down and bites her lip for a moment, almost as if she's holding back whatever thoughts are racing through her thoughts, "Are you and Harry okay? You're not fighting or?"

"We're fine," I immediately cut her off, "It's the business and the media that's pushing him off the rails."

"Mhm," she hums, "And you, are you okay?"

I give her a small smile and nod, "I'm okay."

"You're lying."

"Anne—"

"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"

"It's been a rough few months," I softly respond, "It has taken a lot out of me."

The last three months have been an absolute roller coaster, mentally, emotionally and physically. I'm not quite sure how I've managed to keep things together to the extent I have. There are still days I feel like the world's weight is so heavily on me that I can't breathe. There are days I feel like I'm drowning and can't pull myself away. There are the days I feel like I'm finally okay and can breathe, but the second I manage to come up for air, there's something to pull me down, whether it's work-related, family-related or past related.

"Why didn't you call? Harry kept saying you were fine."

"I have been fine," I respond softly.

In all honesty, I have been fine… kind of. I'm as fine as what can be expected, considering the events that have happened. I'm not going to lie, I may be fine, but I'm still very much up and down when it comes to things. There are good days, and there are bad days.

"If you ever need me, I'm just a call away. You know that, right?" She offers me her sweet, caring smile that has always assured me of tough times and situations.

"Yes, I know."

"Okay, go get yourself some sleep."

"I have work I need to do once I get my laptop out of the car. We might be up here, but the business doesn't stop just because we aren't there."

"Well, at the very least, take a seat on the couch, put your feet up and relax for a minute. Let me at least make you some tea."

"You're too kind to me," I smile towards her.

"You're kind to my son. It's the least I can do for my darling daughter-in-law," she beams.

Anne hands me a steaming cup of tea as I answer a few emails from my phone, too tired to go out and get my laptop. "I have one last question."

"Mhm," I hum, waiting for her to ask what is on her mind.

"What happened to his hand?"

"Oh, he was washing dishes and somehow cut his hand," I tell her the truth.

I don't think it is my place to tell her about Logan or that Harry might be losing his mind. Right now, it is up to Harry to speak to her and want to talk about things. I cannot force him. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Harry will speak when he feels like speaking, and he will tell his mother when he is ready and on his terms.

I don't think I should be the one to tell her that we made the long drive up here just because Harry can't wrap his head around the fact Logan has risen from the dead. No mother wants to hear that as a reason as to why their son has finally visited.

I wish I could say that we visit here often for good occasions, but it is far from the truth. We come up here for holidays, and that is as far as it goes. I have made the drive a few times with Alex to get away from the city, but that has been on rare occasions. Harry doesn't like the idea of me making the drive on my own, and he hates having to come up here. We have settled on staying away from Cheshire and having his mother visit us when she can. I do wish things were a bit different. I do wish we lived closer to his Mum or came up here often. I think it would benefit Harry to be around his mother more and have a family sense. He has my family, but it is different. His mother is irreplaceable, and I know that deep down, he misses his sister. They may not be on the best of terms right now, but I know he loves and misses her.

When Alex is a little older, I would often like to bring him up here to see the neighbours' baby animals. He would love playing with the goats and picking fresh farm eggs, which is not as usual in our life. He would be thrilled to run the fields without a care in the world, a completely different environment compared to home. We have a lot of space for him to run around at home but nothing like the countryside.

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

With Harry's fingers laced with my own, I pass the identical headstones that I passed in November of 2021, on the same day we buried Logan.

Nothing has changed about the cemetery. It's still as uncanny and ill-fitting as it was that day. The headstones are still cracked and withered with the voyage of seasons. It is a shame how the graves fade away. It's almost as though since these souls have left earth, nobody cares enough to fix up the graves that have cracked and deteriorated. It bothers me now like it did the day I walked through here a few years ago.

This cemetery is old, at least over 100 years old. I remember noticing some of the inscriptions when I was here last dated back to the 1800s. These monument stones of cold, decaying cement have presumably observed more people and tears of melancholy and exuberance than one could probably picture. And yet, nobody can take the time to take care of the graves. There are scarcely any flowers on the graves.

It disheartens me that as I escort past all these graves, I still feel saddened even years later because we pass by people who have once lived and wandered this very earth.

"Harry, are you sure it's this way?" I challenge as we pass another row of headstones.

I can't tell if my anxiousness tells me we have gone too far or if we need just to leave and go back home. Part of me doesn't want to wander any further than what we have. After all, walking through grave yeards is always eerie.

"I'm sure I know where my dead brother is buried," Harry grimly mutters, "I was here for it." Harry reminds me of the day he endured.

"No need to be so… morbid," I inform him, doing my best to keep my voice low. We don't need an argument in the middle of a cemetery, even if he is a dickhead.

I stop in my tracks, and Harry turns to glance at me as his hand leaves mine, "Why are you stopping?" Harry questions, and I can't help but take a moment to take in his features as a distraction.

I don't know how to tell him that I don't feel comfortable walking in this cemetery, I don't want to go any further, and I don't think this is a beneficial approach. Nothing good ever comes from this place. I push away my thoughts and feelings, "I couldn't remember if I checked on Alex before we left," I lie. I know I checked on Alex before we left. He was still asleep and cuddled up to his teddy bear.

"We both did, love. Mum knows what she's doing, and you know that, relax," Harry responds, kissing my cheek before lacing his fingers back with mine and beginning to walk again.

Harry and I come to an abrupt standstill, and the two of us become withdrawn while we take in the view of what's in front of us. Harry squeezes my hand gently, and I can't help but squeeze back, a small amount of reassurance for him to know that I am right here and that I can see the same thing he can see.

The deafening silence is intruded abruptly and without signal by the ghastly screech of a blackened crow— the same intense screech that I swear I first heard once Logan was buried in this plot.

Again, it cries, and again, and again.

I shiver as a tingle operates through my body, the character of the crow sounding like nails on a chalkboard. This is the same place I stood in years ago when the crow first screeched—Harry was squatting by the grave, gazing at the soil, and I was standing right here.

I take a breath of the crisp air, and my eyes immediately cast themselves on the crow that is shrieking. Its relentless stare catches my own before I take note that it isn't alone. Harry and I are outnumbered and are intently observed by one… two... three… four… five crows, possibly six; I can't tell if the shadow in the distant tree is one of them or not. Either way, I wish we had never come here. They say if you see five crows, sickness will follow; see six crows, and death will follow.

A gust of wind whisks past us, settling brittle, dead leaves to dance around our shoes to take my gaze away from the crows. I watch the leaves swing around our feet, twirling around us like vines, almost as though they're tightening around our feet and ready to pull us down. I caress my hand to my stomach as I observe the leaves tumbling, leaving me with a heavy feeling in my stomach that twists, knots, and tightens like the motions of the leaflets. The breeze declines, and the leaves become motionless.

I gaze back towards where the first crow was, only to find it gone, leaving me with nothing but an unsettling uneasiness in the pit of my stomach and an abandoned grave of where Logan used to rest.

[shrimpngritcakes]

Buddie prompt #3: 9-1-1 & Lone Star crossover idea

I’m putting this idea here for someone to claim if they wish. It was originally posted on Ao3 (now with additions), but deleted it due to ToS. If anyone wants this prompt, please comment below so I can delete it after you copy it to prevent similar stories.

His breaking point was a kiss.

One he knew he wasn't supposed to see. With anyone else he would feel like a voyeur, but all he could feel was a dark emptiness opening in his chest.

With Eddie’s truck being in the shop for a tie rod that had broken while at work, sending Eddie into a storm of cursing in Spanish, Ana had picked him up for their latest date.

And dropped him off.

If was a horrible fluke that Buck had stood up to look out the window at just the wrong moment. He should have been in the spare bedroom asleep after a grueling 24 surrounded by all the things he had brought with him when he moved in all those weeks ago.

Buck makes his excuses to leave while Eddie is completely confused and trying to get him to talk. Eddie tries to call Buck but he doesn't pick up.

Buck goes to see Bobby and Athena. It all spills out, including not feeling wanted by his parents. Bobby thinks Eddie is being an idiot but keeps this to himself. He suggests a leave of absence for mental health. Bobby receives permission from his superior to place Buck on open ended leave after giving him a brief explanation of the situation. Ending with him saying to Bobby, “That poor boy. If I ever meet that boy's parents…”

Bobby answers, “Get in line, but there may not be anything left after Athena gets them first.”

TK is surprised to find a sleeping Buck in his Jeep in the parking lot of the 126. An off duty Carlos takes him back to his place where he crashes on the couch. Buck has a nightmare and Carlos talks him down.

Owen calls Bobby saying he has his boy and they'll take care of them. He has a plan and discusses it with Bobby. The whole absence makes the heart grow fonder concept.

“Is it mutual?”

“I’m not 100% sure, but…”

“You can't tell Eddie. Even if he begs for answers for his son, you need to stand strong. It needs to be him asking for himself. If this goes wrong… We'll take Buck in here. He'll have a home with the 126. It will take a while, but we'll help put him back together as best we can until he's back on his feet. He won't be alone.”

Bobby wipes at his face, “Thank you."

“Let's hope this works.”

Eddie is worried and confused why Buck never came home. His phone is going straight to voicemail. Now he isn't there for his shift. Another man comes in and introduced as Buck's temporary replacement. Eddie asks Bobby where Buck is, but he won't give him a straight answer. Eddie is shocked as Bobby's tone is harsh and he glaring at him. Bobby later apologized and explains that Buck requested that only he and Maddie know where he is. Eddie tries to dig, but Bobby just shakes his head with a, “I'm sorry, Eddie. I can't tell you.”

Eddie asks Maddie, but she just slams the door in his face. Chim doesn’t know as she's refusing to tell them where Buck is. Chim delivers her handwritten apology the next day to Eddie. It states Buck needs space from everything, but mostly leaves out the part about Eddie (only one or two things that hint, but it goes over Eddie's head).

Athena almost breaks down and calls Eddie a fool before storming away to her police cruiser. She doesn't know where he is because Bobby refuses to tell her (which she finds annoying yet commendable), but she was there for the why when Buck broke down. She'll apologize after Buck and Eddie return. Hopefully together.

Filler with Buck and the 126 and Carlos. Judd takes him out on a horse like he did Capt. Strand. Fill a pothole on how Grace and him are so accepting of TK's sexuality despite being religious.

A Facetime therapy session where Copeland assures him its okay to get away for a while.

Eddie doesn't quite realize yet that he's slowly losing it, but the others can tell.

Paul and Buck have a conversation.

Christopher asking where Buck is because it's movie night. Eddie doesn't have an answer.

Eddie rages in the station gym trying to understand. He almost gets it, but he thinks Buck is jealous of Eddie, not Ana. Cue Hen groaning under her breath, "You almost got it, Eddie. Come on. Keep thinking."

TK, Carlos, and Paul take Buck out to a club. TK talks absentmindedly to the bartender, even showing him/her a picture of Eddie from Insta. Word spreads about the "new guy," Buck. Others keep the “creeps" away from Buck. Buck loosens up a little while there.

Buck Facetimes Christopher on Carla's phone, only for Eddie to walk in just as Buck is hanging up. He sees Buck's panicked/sad face right before he hangs up. He tries to call back, but doesn't get an answer. Carla huffs and shakes her head. "Figure it out yourself, hun. I can't give you this answer. You need to find it for yourself." Cue Eddie even more confused. This is all just about Buck's parents and jealous over Ana... Isn't it?

Roller derby to cheer on Marjan with the bartender flirting with Buck, who is all kinds of flustered. Carlos, TK, and the others tease him mercilessly.

A massive fire where Buck offers his help. Paul gives Buck as sidehug in gratitude.

Eddie almost punching the mechanic because his truck still isn't done.

Marjan takes Buck out to do something crazy because she's Firefox. (Buck is still starstruck). Maybe skydiving or they race each other at wall climbing? Cue competitive banter.

Owen keeping Bobby updated on Buck.

Buck eventually asks for a transfer. Owen asks if this is what he really wants. Buck just shrugs and asks helplessly what other option he has.

(Optional: Bucks gets up quietly at night for a glass of water and stumbles onto Carlos and TK having sex/making out in the kitchen. Buck either flees in embarrassment or is stunned into watching with Carlos and TK aware that he's there. All parties awkward and/or embarrassed the next morning until TK bursts into giggles and laughter.)

Eddie's relationship with Ana is rapidly deteriorating. Christopher has a full on tantrum. Eddie has to koala hug him on the floor, after Ana brings him back home from a not very good date as Eddie's thoughts were on Buck. Ana tries to help calm him down but Chris screams at her about Buck not being around as much as soon as she started dating his dad. “I hate you! I hate you!” He yells her to get out. Ana still tries to talk. Carla snaps at her to leave. She still tries.

Eddie is spiraling. Flashback of that kiss he really wasn’t ready for, but Ana had asked. It dawns on him that that was the night Buck disappeared. Why would Buck leave because of that? Chris is repeatedly asking her to leave, but she's not listening. She's not listening to his son. He finally snaps and demands that she leaves. She storms out. Relationship dead in the water.

Carla can only watch as Eddie breaks from it all.

The original plan has failed, so it’s time for the final attempt. A blatant hammer strike to Eddie's head to knock some sense into him.

Bobby calls Eddie into his office. He shows Eddie transfer papers from Buck along with a list of Buck's possessions to be boxed and shipped. Eddie is speechless. Thoughts of Christopher and losing Buck. He's losing Buck.

He shows Eddie an email he received and Eddie slowly scrolls through, It's full of captioned pictures. Such as:

-Buck staring off into the distance on a horse.

-Buck curled on a couch looking lost.

-Buck looking drool-worthy in club clothes. The caption: “Holy sh@t! If I wasn't already happily taken…”

-Showing Buck blushing as someone talks in his ear.

-Smiling yet not reaching his eyes while dancing.

-Sitting with his head buried in his hands on the engine’s bumper.

-Helping man a hose at a large blaze captioned with “Yes, we had permission for him to be there.” Followed by a picture of someone (Paul, but Eddie can’t see his face as he’s looking at the ground and hidden by his helmet) sidehugging a sweaty dusty still geared up Buck around the neck with a hand resting on his head.

A video. It's Buck spilling everything curled up in someone's arms (maybe Carlos or Grace). “Why am I always alone! What about me?” Mentions of Abby and Ali. His failed dates. Everyone pairing up. Losing part of his sister to Chim after finally having her back in his life after so many years apart. “And Eddie! Eddie… Why does love hurt so much?” mentioning Chris. Etc.

Eddie is shaking. It finally clicks why Buck left.

One more video. It's Capt. Strand and the 126 facing the camera. He knows where Buck is now - Austin, Texas.

“Buck doesn't know we're putting all this together. He’s asleep. We may or may not have knocked him out with sleeping pills.”

They all lay it out for Eddie. Eddie feels all kinds of stupid and blind. “Now, you have a choice here, Edmundo Diaz…”

“Why… Oh my god. This entire time… ”

“Do you love him, Eddie? As more than a friend? Or am I signing these papers?”

A few seconds after Eddie runs out of the room, a sigh comes from the speaker phone. “I'll get things set up.”

“Thank you, Owen. For everything.”

“You're welcome.”

The whole firehouse going up in a cheer after Eddie floors out of the parking lot in his thankfully finally fixed truck. Hen is shaking Chim or vice versa.

Carla agrees over the phone to keep Christopher after Eddie blurts everything out to her, ending with a “Go get him, Eddie.”

“Did everyone see this but me?” Carla is laughing as she hangs up.

Buck sees Owen call TK over and whispering in his ear. Tk has an interesting reaction before running out of the room with his phone already to his ear.

Flashbacks as Eddie is scrolling through his pictures on his phone while on an airplane. How he missed it. How he didn't understand himself. His fall had been so slow he hadn't even realized it until it was almost, or maybe is, too late. His seatmate makes a comment on his happy “family," and it’s a kick to Eddie's already flayed emotions.

Judd is there to pick him up at the airport, which surprised him.

He's dropped off at a club. Judd makes a snarky comment after handing Eddie a hotel room key card through the window. Eddie rolls his eyes as Judd drives off laughing. The bouncer, having seen the Diaz blazoned on the back of his LAFD shirt, waves Eddie inside, skipping the line. The whispering starts as soon as he enters. Word had spread and they had been hoping for Buck. “Is that…”

“I think so.”

He's shocked as the crowd starts to part for him. The music lowers in volume. People are staring and he's embarrassed, etc., but he sees Buck, who TK has made sure looks phenomenal. Taking a deep breath, he squares his shoulders and walks forward.

Buck is dancing between Carlos and TK. He feels Carlos start smacking TK on the back before they pull away from him. They’re both grinning so wide he suspects their faces are hurting. TK is not so quietly squealing in excitement.

A hand covers his eyes from behind. He immediately recognizes the body wash smell. “Eddie…”

Mini conversation/argument, neither realizing the club has gone dead silent, with Eddie yelling “Because I love you, you idiot!”

The entire club loses it with TK whooping, jumping with a fist punch, and laughing.

End there with a kiss, at the hotel room which may or may not get steamy, or Buck telling Christopher he's home with Chris tackling him to the ground.

[henrycavell]

homecoming

summary: Syverson has been medically discharged from the army after a suicide attempt. He’d been able to hide his deteriorating mental health for years from the men around him, but now he has to face it head on. Hopefully not alone. 

word count: 1,426

pairing: Syverson x OFC 

*I plan on intentionally not describing the girl much, so that when you’re reading you can think of her however you’d like to!

warnings: smut later on, there will be cursing and mentions of depression, anxiety, there will be suicide attempts and self harm though i am not sure how detailed i will go into that! if things get really detailed, i will make sure to put warnings on those specific chapters.

a/n: I am not looking for constructive criticism on this. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written any fan-fiction, though I’ve been roleplaying nonstop for the last few years, I feel a little nervous posting something that’s entirely just mine. So right now, I’m not looking for any criticism, suggestions, etc. <3 If you enjoy reading though, please like/reblog! 

Also, I’m adding everyone in a tag that replied to my text post about wanting to read my stories... so if you’d prefer to be removed, just let me know! If you’d like to be added, also let me know! <3 

Taglist: @littlefreya​ @mary-ann84​ @wondersofdreaming​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @asylummara​ @dearlybelovedluke​ @promptandpros​ @mansaaay​ @daddys-littlewhitegirl​ @vacant-writings​  @kaatelyyynn​(i’m sorry if i missed anyone, i only tagged anyone who replied to my text post!!) oh & @80scavill​ i’m tagging you because you said you wanted to proofread, but i am just so nervous that im just posting! bahaha

PART 1 | PART 2

Being medically discharged from the military wasn’t something Syverson wanted to talk about, he sure as hell didn’t want to go into detail. He’d barely been able to admit to himself that his depression and anxiety had become so overwhelming that he could barely function. When his men had started noticing, some questioning his well-being and if he was stable enough to be in his position, he thought that had been the most embarrassing thing. He’d been wrong. The most embarrassing and shameful thing had been his suicide attempt, which ultimately led to his discharge.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it, so he didn’t. It was bad enough that he had to think about it constantly. Every time he closed his eyes Sy was brought back to that moment. Blood all over his bunk, smeared along the wall and staining his sheets. As hard as he had tried to convince his peers and superiors that it wasn’t a suicide attempt and rather just an unfortunate mistake, they wouldn’t believe him. And after a full psych evaluation, all hope of saving his career had vanished. Shipped home before he could even argue.

His first few days home had been the hardest, the only little shimmer lighting up his life at the moment being Aika. Sy had been able to bring her home with him and the loyal companion hadn’t left his side for even a second. Seemingly knowing something was wrong with him. But even with his dog giving him all the love and affection she could muster, he still barely left his bed. Tangled up in the sheets, dozing off and on out of sleep except for the very few times that he forced himself up to use the bathroom. Sy hadn’t eaten in what he thought to be at least four days, except for nibbling on a saltine cracker here and there between forcing down some orange juice or shots of whiskey.

Syverson wasn’t proud of the way he was keeping himself, but he didn’t know what to do. He’d been working and serving his country since he graduated high school. Being home with nothing but free time on his hands and a heavy rain cloud hanging over his shoulders, the days were beginning to all blur together. He’d been particularly dreading this morning, however, because he knew the VA was sending over some help, someone to help make sure that he was getting along okay, to make sure he didn’t need anything.

Aika put her paws up on the bed and leaned her head in, grabbing the blanket with her teeth and ripping it off Syverson, pulling it all the way down into the floor. “Okay, okay, I get it, I’m getting up,” Sy groaned, running his hands down his face before pulling himself up, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. A shower sounded nice, but before he could really think about whether he had the energy to or not, Syverson was already hearing a knock from downstairs. Craning his head around to look at the alarm clock by his bed, his face fell, realizing it was already well after noon. He thought he had more time...

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

Penelope wasn’t anything more than just a volunteer, a girl in her early twenties that liked to keep herself busy, so for the last few months on the weekends, she’d been donating her time to helping the VA. They’d send her to random retired or discharged veteran’s homes to help with their household chores, or to do their grocery shopping. Sometimes, a lot of them were just lonely and wanted someone to talk to. That was Penelope’s job, to just spend a few hours doing whatever they needed that was within her capability. This seemed to be a special case, though. It was different than all the others. Penelope hadn’t been given very much information on this person, other than their name and a very vague reason as to why they had been discharged. “Don’t ask about what happened,” she’d been warned, told to just leave it to be.

Tapping her knuckles against the door once more, Penelope peered in through the glass pane into the home, seeing that all the lights were off. Stepping back on the porch, Penelope looked out into the drive, seeing a rusted pickup truck and thinking to herself that Syverson had to be home. Just as she turned back around to knock a third time, her fist already raised in the air, she came face to face with the captain.

“Heard ya the first time,” he grunted, before turning in the door way and disappearing back down the hall. Penelope had only gotten a quick glance at him. His hair was short but was starting to grow out, his beard had looked a little unkempt and it seemed he had just rolled out of bed. Letting her hand drop back down by her waist, she froze on the porch, a little taken aback by his greeting. If she could call it that.

Stepping up into the home, Penelope closed the door behind her, just as a large german shepherd came running up to her. Aika panted, her tongue sticking out as she barked excitedly, nudging herself against Penelope’s legs as if telling her to follow the captain into the kitchen. If Aika could speak, she would have told the younger girl that it had been almost a month since the captain had spoken to anyone in person. “Hey there,” Penelope cooed, reaching down to scratch Aika behind her ears before tightening her grip on her purse and heading farther into the home.

“My names Penelope,” she called, just a second before stepping into the kitchen and seeing the man pouring himself a mug of coffee. There was a bit of sunlight coming through the kitchen window, brightening up the dim space just a touch. Most of the sun rays were washing over the man’s back as he fixed his coffee just the way he liked it. The veteran was large, his biceps reminding her of tree trunks, though he did seem to be getting a little soft around the edges. Penelope stood silent for a moment, waiting to see if she’d get anything from the man, but he remained silent, even when he turned around, bringing his mug up to his lips. Syverson didn’t even look at her, instead, snapping his fingers to get Aika to come to his side. His gaze was kept down, fixed on his dog. “I’ll be visiting every weekend, uhm, for as long as you’d like me to.”

“Didn’t want ya’ to begin with, don’t need no help.” The man still didn’t look up as he spoke, instead, his attention still focused on Aika, the dog seemingly being the only thing to bring him comfort.

Penelope was definitely caught off guard. She’d met some rude veterans during her time volunteering, and while this man’s words could’ve definitely been taken that way, Penelope could almost hear the loneliness in his voice. All she’d been told about him was that he’d been battling mental health issues, discharged because of depression, though she hadn’t been given anymore information than that. Letting her shoulders sag, she took a step further into the kitchen, moving towards the fridge as she looked around his kitchen. “I believe you, you look capable.” Penelope tried putting herself in his shoes, a strong man who had climbed through the ranks, spent his whole life serving his country, only to be forced home. To be told he wasn’t fit to serve anymore, that he needed help doing simple tasks. So she tried spinning the narrative as she opened the fridge, a frown making it’s way on to her face as she peered into the empty box. “Think of it as... I’m here to do the things you don’t want to. And it looks like someone doesn’t like grocery shopping,” she tried to tease, “I’ll make a list and-“

Syverson’s footsteps were heavy as he walked away, leaving the kitchen with his cup of coffee without one final word. Watching him disappear down the hall, Penelope heard heavy thuds on the stairs as he headed back up to his room. Letting the door on the fridge shut, Penelope muttered to herself under her breath, “okay...” It seemed like every weekend her job only became harder, she met veterans that were more and more reserved and closed off. But she had no intention of giving up just yet on Syverson.

[mymegumi]

GLORY

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

summary: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god

genre: far cry five au, enemies to not-quite lovers, darker themes, villain au. tbh not really a ship fic </3

word count: 3.7k

warnings: heavy talk of religion, cults, cultish manipulation, dubious morality, use of guns, bad characters, haikyuu!! characters portrayed as villains, fake drugs, mentions of abuse, torture, injuries, implied noncon drug use and swearing

notes: i want to preface this by saying this is much darker than the content i normally write. it is not my normal content, and i am hopeful that i tagged everything properly; please tell me if i didn’t! also i dipped a bit into a character study of the main character’s fetch quest idea, in which you do all the work that other’s in game easily could! nonetheless, if you still wanna read—i hope you enjoy!

Hope’s County was a desolate piece of shit.

It was filled to the brim with cultists that seemed to think the Coming was approaching, in which the Lord would cast down those who did not repent for their sins. Truthfully, you weren’t even all that religious, but finding out about the self-proclaimed Sin family had turned you off to the idea even more, turning your back on the faith of a warped version of Christianity to instead focus on your job.

Called into the deteriorating county, you were a simple deputy—a rookie with barely a few years of work under your belt. You weren’t too keen on your police work, often finding the job as systematically fucked as the government officials that decided to turn a blind eye to the Sin family since the youngest of the bunch had more money to wave around than you did to pay your monthly rent.

“Rook,” an unfortunate nickname that’d stuck around against your protestations, your superior—Daichi was nice, if not a bit too optimistic—called out to you, waving you over to the map of Hope’s County, red marker furiously drawn all over, “you’re still new: y’remember what I told you about Suna?”

“Second oldest of the brothers, he’s considered the least of a threat due to the fact he’s often working in the Bliss fields.” You poke your head out the window a bit, eyes searching over the high reaching tops of ficus trees, “It’s not really known if he ingests the drug and experiences the hallucination of his followers, but it can be assumed that he doesn’t, to maintain the power over those that do.”

Daichi nods his approval at you, and you feel a flare of resentment somewhere deep in your belly. You try not to, really you do, you’re a good person who’s good at your job, and sometimes you go to church when it’s Easter, but in the same breath, you don’t remember the last time you’d ever even considered confessing your so-called sins to a Father.

The number one sin on your list, so Atsumu had taunted to you as he held a knife to your throat, was apparently Pride—too prideful of your supposed Savior of Hope’s County title you’d been given, pride thrummed in your veins after every member of his Father’s cult you wiped out. You don’t really remember what had happened after that, vaguely that his younger twin brother had to all but pry him off of you, reminding the blond of their Father’s purpose for you.

It was the only reason you were still alive, the Father’s so-called purpose for you—the fact he saw in his visions a future where you were a key piece, the final chess piece moving to keep a king in check. Even despite the list of sins Atsumu insisted that you followed, pride seemingly the one that harbored the most space in your person.

You, however, knew what your sin was. It flared red and angry whenever Daichi talked down to you as if your some odd years in the force were wiped clean, and you were a true rookie yet again, no smarter than a civilian to the dark ways the world worked. It made heat run through your body whenever Kita, the Father of the Sin family, called you his greatest masterpiece as if he had any say in the way you were slowly turning into a war machine—plowing through his followers with scary ease and accuracy.

Your greatest sin reared its head whenever you faced Suna, too laid back, too uncaring, and the antithesis of everything that you stood for.

Wrath, you learned, made your hands shake when he smiled at you, edges looping as if the Bliss he grew just poured from every pore of his body.

“Not that one can really want to ingest bliss,” Daichi murmurs into his palm a bit, leaning over his map of Hope’s County, “It’s more you get too close to it and the fumes of it will get you.”

Bliss was, just as the Sin family was, something you’d never even come close to encountering before. It was a drug that they’d found, or crossbred, and it had hallucinogenic effects on whoever inhaled the product it released.

Batches of it were found all over the county, but the root of the source was in Suna’s valley of the land, affectionately known as Heaven Valley by those who couldn’t remember the name, or didn’t try to. You’d seen more than one group of people in hazmat suits having to clear out fields of it, and just watching them made your head dip and spin with the would-be effects if you’d gone any closer than you already were.

Bush of full, green leaves with seemingly innocent white flowers on it, the plant itself was harmless, and yet when allowed to convert carbon dioxide, it made a lethal gas that made anyone who got too close go mad. It was said that the family had even begun experimenting with grinding it into a powder or melting it down to its liquid state.

“Bunch of fucking crazies,” You mutter the words to yourself long after you’d left the solace of Daichi’s office, somewhere out in the valley and far out of earshot of anyone that might wonder which group of people you were referring to—the ones producing cult members at a daily rate that was intensely concerning, or the ones trying to stop them, “God, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Hey, there, Dep, hope you’re tuned into my channel,” You could honestly groan, but you’re trying to make sure no one finds you on your perch in a tree somewhere, your 308 carbine’s scope not exactly focused on anything in particular, but at the ready. Suna’s voice is light and airy over the radio attached to your hip, though the sound is tuned to the earpiece you’re wearing, “Just wanted to let you know that ‘Tsumu’s missing you an awful lot. Says you left before he could have his fun, won’t stop pouting about it.”

You’re smarter than answering to a taunt that Suna sets out in front of you, and yet you can’t help but feel as if your lack of an answer is him winning. Maybe his so-called brother was right about the sin he’d tried carving into the flesh of your abdomen.

“You’d look real funny if I hadn’t picked up just now, Suna,” you whisper, eyes straying from the scope to the button that’s meant to be an answer to the other person on the line.

Suna’s laugh is a little grainy on the radio channel, but it’s not taunting like it usually is, joy written into the edges of his laugh, “And yet you’re on the other end of the line, answering me, dear Deputy. So who really looks funny in the end, hm?”

Fuck. The brunet had caught you, the lure of an unanswered challenge too much for you to pass up for your pride, a sin in and of itself. Maybe you should offer yourself up to Osamu and Atsumu again to get pride carved into your skin because apparently, your wrath wasn’t enough.

“Touché,” You start to climb down from the tree, slinging the gun over your shoulder as you huff into the receiver of the microphone. Your feet catch in the knots of the tree, and your hands start to blister a bit when you lose your footing, and yet Suna stays silent on the radio.

“Going silent on me, what was the point of the call—just to talk about your brother’s unfortunate hobbies with me?”

“Can’t a guy call out into the void and not expect someone to respond?” His smile is almost palpable over the radio call, however many times he flickers in and out of the call, “You’re always welcome to come visit my cabin, Dep.”

“Not in a million years,” feet now firmly planted on the ground, you have to right yourself a bit in orientation before you head towards the ATV you’d taken out to this part of the woods.

“I wouldn’t say that so definitely.”

Suna, of the Sin family, was often on the radio with you. He wasn’t always talking directly to you, no, sometimes he was just talking about idle parts of his day and there was a part of you that wondered if there was a part of him that just needed someone to talk to.

You always had to push the thoughts aside, however, tucking them somewhere deep into your chest so you wouldn’t sympathize with him. He was the cause for the murder of a multitude of people in Hope’s County, the root of the drug trade that went outside of the otherwise isolated county, and sometimes the despite it all, you sympathized with the man.

The Sin family was notorious in Hope’s County as not only being the leading members of the cult but because of their immigration status. Cast out of Japan in their early teens for following a faith so incorrectly, they found solace in the soil of a town in need of a direction, no matter how far off the beaten path it would take its members.

Kita Shinsuke, also known as the Father by those following their twisted version of Christianity, was the head of the operations. A prophet of fallacies or of forthcoming events, no one truly knew, and yet he claimed the words of God followed him in his sleep, that he couldn’t leave the Lord’s words unanswered.

The next of the group was often on his own, Ojiro Aran an isolated member of the family that preferred to stay in his section of the woods, away from the chaos that seemed to follow the youngest members of their little family. Ojiro was often known as the zookeeper, both for keeping the rowdy Osamu and Atsumu in line, while also because of his secondary role in the family—the trainer and breeder of wolves that were often used as indicators of one’s faith.

The Miya twins seemed to cause the most upfront issues for the Hope County Police Department, causing more than one silo to explode on the otherwise neutral farmlands. They seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, with their sins written on their bodies as if the Lord would accept their souls, rather than just their vessels. Sloth was scrawled across the younger of the two’s chest, with a matching Pride across the other’s, letters both a bit off-kilter.

The final member, of which enjoyed causing you, personally, the most trouble, was Suna Rintarou, genius beyond words and yet lazy beyond belief. For what he lacked in motivation, he made up for in creative and almost barbaric forms of punishment. His words were sharp around the edges, and yet they made everyone listen to the sermons he preached, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“My dear, sweet Rook, you seem to forget that this territory is mine,” you ignore the way he inflicts his claim on the land you’ve no right being on, and yet it sends something akin to fear down the lines of your spine, “You walk among these trees as if you’re hidden, and yet I always know where you are.”

“Sounds less like you know your territory,” you start, always willing to put up a fight with the brunet you’d not seen in at least a week, at this point, “and more like you’re stalking me—got a crush, Rintarou?”

“More like an infatuation,” his voice is just a purr, too velvety to just be jest, and yet there’s a part of you that knows you can’t trust a word this man says, “take what you want from that, darling, I’m not the one going to be thinking about it all night.”

Perhaps Atsumu had gotten your sin wrong, and perhaps there was a second option he’d never even considered—your human nature was multifaceted and ever-changing, and perhaps your sins were available in multitudes, rather than a singularity.

If he catches you again, you’d love to see his reaction to you saying you’d be willing to let him carve lust into your skin with his knife—love it even more if he asked who it was for.

Suna doesn’t say much more after that, just his usual spiel of the fact you need to atone for your sins, and that Osamu’s always willing to wash them from your skin in the river. You forget to mention your latest one isn’t one so easily erased from your skin, too deeply embedded in your bones, and you wear it like a second skin at this point.

That’s why you struggle, sometimes, against the Sin brothers and their outlandish claims of paradise meant for those who atone. You struggle because you know the weight of each sin you’ve ever committed—a book added to an already overflowing backpack of crimes against God.

Suna Rintarou, most of all, makes your blood simmer white-hot with unbridled rage—yet you’re not even sure why. It might be the lackadaisical smile that’s ever-present on his face, edges sloping and curving over his face as he taunts you, knives glinting in the sunlight of day. It might even be the way you want to press as close to him as possible, and run as far away from him as possible at the same time—ever the perfect contradiction, a paradox of which you’ve been unable to solve for your time at Hope’s County.

Perhaps the Sin family is right in the unmaking of the world, but your only proof is that God smites you by making Suna one of the most undeniably attractive men you’ve ever met.

Confident in a way that carries in the gait of his walk, and the way his shoulders settle on his frame, Suna knows that he’s got his claws deep in your skin—gripping you to keep you at a distance, and yet not letting you get any further away from him. As if you’d let him get away, your hands would be wrapped around the column of his neck—intent to kill or to offer pleasure, you’d just have to decide when the time came.

“Howdy, stranger.”

These woods must twist your sense of mind, pushing and pulling at the seams of your existence and the fabric that makes the foundation of your realities—the air must be contaminated. You’re not where you thought you were going: you’d been headed towards the Miyas’ territory with the sole purpose of destroying the sin of wrath that had been crawling its way up your throat, trying to escape at any chance.

Yet, you’ve ended up in Heaven’s Valley, and straight into Suna’s hand.

He stands before you, hands tucked into a pair of dark beige cargo pants with a loose leather vest as his only top, smooth skin covered in scars and tattoos on full display. For all that Atsumu spewed of repenting for your sins, confessions meant to be curled into skin with a blade, you had to admit that he was one hell of a tattoo artist.

Suna’s tattoos were unlike the harsh angles of Osamu’s, forgoing the looping script of the English language for the smooth strokes of Japanese. It was a harsh juxtaposition to the jagged letters of ‘greed’ splayed across the expanse of his lower belly, the bottom of the ‘g’ dipping underneath the waistband of his pants.

“Rintarou, what a surprise.” Your words slur a bit at the edges, and you’re not sure if it’s just from stepping into his land or being in his presence, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that Bliss dances in your system, “Can’t say I’m disappointed to see you.”

“How honest, sweet one,” his smile resembles a wolf, you come to the conclusion because despite the Sin family being described as a pack of foxes, there’s a carnal look in his eyes as he stares at you, “I like when you’re honest with me.”

“I like when you don’t shoot me on sight,” you vaguely remember a pistol at your hip, your carbine left behind in favor of a shotgun, “makes our little talks seem more personal.”

His laugh is clear, a bell in the fog that is your mind, “Do I often shoot at you, sweet one, for I believe it’s you that shoots first.”

“Mm,” you let your eyes flicker to his before you feel a crease form between your brows, “you still shoot back.”

“I never let a favor go unpaid, darling.” He’s closer to you now, a hand sliding along the curve of your arm, before resting just above your pulse point. His hand is warm, opposite of the cooling night air, “Yet you’ve done a favor for me I’ve not yet given anything in return for.”

“What?”

Your confusion is palpable even without your verbal input because Suna’s thumb is smoothing it away from your brow with his free hand. His eyes are darker now with the sun down, only the moonlight illuminating the outline of his face and there’s something about the sight that makes your skin rise, goosebumps lining your arms.

“Deputy,” the moniker is like a velvety purr against the exposed skin of your nape, “I’m a bit hurt that you don’t remember our very first meeting. It holds such a sweet spot in my heart, so for you to forget it cuts me deep to my core.”

You wrack your brain trying to remember the first time you’d met Suna, all those days ago at the beginning of the summer, when you’d been unscarred and unafraid of your allegiances. There was still a hopeful part of you, then, that had been so sure you could be the savior of these people.

“I don’t…” your voice trails off as you watch Suna walk back in front of you, his face calm as you worry at your bottom lip.

“Of course not,” a knife flickers in his hand, the silver blade gleaming in the pale light of the moon, “you were much too blissed out to remember, but there was information you provided that proved most useful.”

His hands trail along your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake as you lean closer to him, drawn in as if connected by an invisible string. Suna’s leaned in closer now, close enough that you can feel his exhales fanning across your face gently; can see when his eyes flicker and dance on the lines of your features.

“Pretty little thing, too pretty to be fighting a war you never signed up for,” he muses softly as the back of his hand eases across your cheek, “my darling deputy, you told me you wished for an escape from the pressures, the responsibilities that the locals had forced upon you. You are but a single piece, yet you’re burdened with the work of a hundred pawns.”

You take a shuddering breath in, and you let the tension leave your body that had settled along the weight of your shoulders as soon as Suna let his presence be known. You let the need to shoot him rest, because despite this man being the suffering and cause of so many downfalls—he understood.

He understood your wrath, the feeling of it tingling in your fingertips whenever Daichi asked you to do a job that could easily be done by someone else. You were just a person who’d stumbled into Hope’s County at a precipice of change—down on your luck and thrust into a job and title that made you feel like an imposter. He knew your fists clenched whenever another civilian came to you, begging you to save their farm when indeed, it would do nothing in the end for the resistance.

Maybe he knew that underneath every mundane task that you helped others with, there was a vexation that ran along the lengths of your body at their inability to do things on their own. You loved the citizens of this county, you swore to protect them when you became a member of the police force, and yet an undeniable thrum of rage would flood your body when they leaned on you more than the other members of the resistance.

How lovely it was that someone else understood you, even if it was Suna Rintarou.

Why were you fighting them so hard? Your mind supplies this thought too easily, like shrugging on a hoodie on a cold night, and it flits around your brain and fills in the empty spaces that Suna keeps tearing in your psyche.

You remember the end of the sermon that Kita had spoken when you first went to arrest him, all those months ago when the summer was licking at spring’s heels. He’d been haloed in the rays of the evening sun that filtered into the partially broken down church, hands spread with a rosary wrapped tightly against his left hand.

“For all have sinned,” he had spoken softly, eyes locking with yours as soon as the doors opened, and you felt panic strike you still, Daichi pressing on your shoulder to make you continue walking, “and fall short of the glory of God.”

If you were a sinner already falling from His good graces, why not enter hell with a list of sins that made the Devil take a breath in? Were you not already marked for damnation—what good would siding with Suna Rintarou and his family of fucked up prophets do for you?

“Rintarou,” his name leaves your mouth breathlessly, “if I’m going to hell, I’m going to drag you and your family with me.”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite place your finger on, and yet the feeling it gives you runs along your spine with a chill, “You’re making a mistake. My family and I will find you, no matter where you are, and no matter what trouble you kick up.”

You press a kiss along the curve of his jaw, not missing the way his hands clench at his sides, “Then come catch me.”

There’s a part of you that hates that Atsumu was right because pride sinks into your bones with the fact that you leave with the last word. The last laugh is yours as you leave Suna in the dust of your exit, not knowing if there was another way it could have ended, if you’d just taken the hand he’d extended to you.

t.list — @nekomabvc

[largedenominationsplease]

you’d come over, right?

Summary: A year after Kiara and JJ broke up, they come home to the Outer Banks to deal with one of the hardest years of their lives.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, canon-compliant smoking, au, minor character death, cancer, current events

A/N: Alternate Universe: JJ and Kiara dated seriously for a long while, but over a year before this story, they parted ways. Set in present-day with current events, but most current events are only mentioned briefly for context. All characters aged 21+. Partially inspired by If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and current events and Sad Feels™ and a sad playlist my sister made. Come cry with me... also on ao3

Shoutout to @alexandracheers​ for proofreading <3

Sometimes even the most beautiful things die. It’s the sad cycle of life. 

It starts with a spark, a first touch, a first look, a first kiss; 

a few embers of warmth, holding hands, secret glances, flirty texts; 

the roaring flames of passion, clinging to one another, leaving the party early, tangled limbs and tangled sheets; 

then the steady heat of a well-tended fire, cozy mornings making coffee, binging your favorite shows, texting to see how your day is. 

But, sometimes, even the most loved and cared for fires die. They go out with little warning or reason. What was a welcome flame in the hearth one night may be a bed of ash by morning. 

Their fire died a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - no one was trying to douse the flames - it just went out. When they sat down and discussed breaking up - parting ways was a more apropos term - she hadn’t even cried. When he packed up and moved out, it was unceremonious. He even kissed her forehead as he left, like he’d done a hundred times before, only this time he wasn’t coming back. 

She still dreamed about him. Sometimes unbidden images of picket fences and a dog and home-cooked meals and potted plants intruded upon her thoughts. Once, when her period was late, she’d even dreamt of a curly-haired little boy with blue eyes - which was ridiculous because she was very single at the time. Did she even want to have kids?

He thought about her, too. Each new destination she traveled to brought new Instagram posts and awakened an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite place. That ache deepened when she revisited places they had gone together - unwanted memories flooding his senses. The smell of coconut still sent him spinning, missing the feeling of running his fingers through her hair, over the smooth skin of her arms and legs. 

What hurt so badly about their fire dying wasn’t that it died. What hurt was that it should never have died; that it died so quietly and suddenly; that one day it was there, burning bright, and the next it was a cold gray heap of coals. 

Even their friends were surprised when he moved back home. “Where is she?” and “What happened?” and “We had no idea you had any problems.”

Followed by the futile response of, “It was just time to move on.”

And they did move on, eventually. She traveled to forget and perhaps after a few months she could call herself truly happy - though there was always an ache of not having someone to share each experience with. He stayed at home, but he opened his own business and the familiarity of home soothed any wounds he sustained. Their fire might have gone out, but they kept the bed of ash in the fireplace, a shrine to what they once had, and it was more comforting than sad after a time. 

When the virus first hit, she’d been back in the states, on the West Coast. She messaged him:

Are you safe? Still have a job? Anyone sick?

Fine for now. You?

Fine.

When the protesting started, he knew she’d be in the thick of it. Not that he didn’t get involved, he just knew her passion for people and justice. He messaged her back this time:

You’re protesting, aren’t you? Are you safe?

Of course! But I’m being careful. You?

Staying safe. Protesting here, too. 

Hurricane Isaias wasn’t meant to be a bad storm, but she had still tracked it up the East Coast. Her suspicions were confirmed when it intensified.

Isaias didn’t wipe y’all out, did it?

No, blew through pretty quick. The Cut took a hit. Gonna take some time to fix it up. 

At first, after reading the headlines about the fires out west, he thought it was a joke. As they spread, he realized how serious it was and it worried him. 

You evacuated, right? The air quality is shit where you are. 

Yep. Gonna take a pandemic-friendly tour of some national parks further east.

Every new development meant more messages sent. Simple little check-ins that meant nothing and everything. It was a scary year the world faced, and even after all those months apart, the only thing they wanted was to find comfort in one another’s safety. On opposite ends of the country, the two of them tied together by current events and the memory of their relationship. 

Mid-September, while she was traveling away from the fires on the West Coast, he got a call from her mother. He hadn’t spoken to her mother much since they had broken up, over a year ago, but she still liked his Instagram posts and struck up conversations when she saw him around town. 

“Hey, Mrs. Anna.”

“Hi, JJ. I’ve told you, it’s just Anna.” Her voice was soft and as kind as ever, but held an edge of tiredness and strain he hadn’t heard from her before. “We have some… tough news, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”

Colon cancer…

Kiara’s hearing faded into white noise as her mother spoke those words to her through the phone. Her mother went on to explain that even though they caught it late, the doctors were optimistic that her father would make a recovery. Treatments were set to start right away. 

“Mom, I’m coming home.”

“Honey, we know you’ve got traveling plans. We’ll be fine. We don’t want to interrupt your-”

“Mom, I can’t do much traveling with this virus. Dad is more important than any of that, anyway. I’m coming home.”

JJ cried when Anna hung up the phone. Mike was rough around the edges, and he was resistant to Kiara dating a Maybank, but once JJ won him over, he treated him like a son. Hearing this news was a punch to the gut - it was like losing a father. Even in the midst of his sadness he knew Kiara would be sent into a tailspin.

Hey. You okay?

She was typing in response, then nothing. He waited, seeing the little bubble pop up again and again and fade away each time. And then she videocalled. She hadn’t called him in months - not since they parted ways. The little screen showed her in her car, only illuminated by her dim phone screen and the passing street lights. Tears stained her cheeks, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. “I’m not okay.”

“You’re driving right now?”

“I’m coming home.”

“Kiara, pull over. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. They caught it late - he might… who knows how much time I have-”

“Kie.” His voice was soft. He was always soft toward her.

Her face crumpled as the tears fell fresh. He let her cry. He talked to her about nothing and everything as her tears subsided. She cried as she drove through the night, talking to him when she was calm, crying harder when the conversation lulled. She didn’t stop until she noticed he’d fallen asleep, the video call still rolling. It was after four in the morning. The pang of nostalgia that tore through her was enough to make her catch her breath. They hadn’t talked like that since they first started dating. A few tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if the memories or the fear of the future caused them. She found a safe place to park and fell into a fitful sleep in the back of her car. 

She made it home just in time for her dad’s first surgery. JJ met her and her mother at the hospital parking lot, all masks and six-feet of distance until she said, “I could really use a hug.” The three of them colliding into a group hug within seconds. 

JJ made sure the Carreras didn’t need anything as Mike went through chemo and more and more hospital stays. He ran errands for them since none of them could risk going out and bringing anything home. He did yard work since Mike hated an unkept lawn. Kiara always made sure to leave him snacks and drinks on the back deck as the North Carolina heat stretched into October. Aside from that, he willingly put himself at Anna’s beck and call. Anything and everything she needed done, he jumped at the opportunity to help. He would even come over in the evenings to play cards with Mike - masks included. Kiara’s heart ached as she watched her parents get along with him so well. She hadn’t realized how far he had wormed his way into their little family, but here they were, acting as though nothing had changed between him and their daughter, loving him like a son. He praised her mom’s cooking until she blushed and there were times he could make her dad laugh so hard they all forgot for a moment that cancer existed. Those moments were fleeting and oh-so cherished. 

Mike deteriorated quickly. It made Kiara sick to see her father become a cancer-wasted shell of himself. As optimistic as the doctors had been originally, the treatments weren’t taking well. As chemo wrapped up, his numbers were still dangerously high. November brought another emergency surgery that confirmed their worst fears. Mike moved home. They were told all that was left was to manage the pain and make him as comfortable as they could. They had perhaps a month left. JJ moved into the guest room to be as close as possible in case anything was needed from him. The four of them were left waiting as Thanksgiving approached. 

Kiara wasn’t sleeping. Maybe it was knowing her ex-boyfriend was staying down the hall from her, though that was an odd thing to focus on. More likely, it was the fact that her father was passing away right before her eyes, slipping through her fingers as she stood by, helpless. The sun had set hours ago, and she sat with a now-cold cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table, mulling over each crazy event that had led her to this point. 

JJ wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to inspect the contents. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, but then again, she was exhausted in every single sense of the term.

JJ brushed off her roughness. “Hungry. Did you eat dinner?” He knew she hadn’t, so he set about making an extra sandwich.

After a few moments of silence, Kiara whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” she repeated, her lip trembling. “I always kept track of his appointments for him. He was always shit at remembering to go to the doctor. He should have had one last year, but I didn’t come home and I didn’t remind him. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I would have been here to remind him to go.” Tears shone in her eyes and on her cheeks.

JJ gave her a quizzical look, deciphering what she was saying. “I seem to recall being the one who left. But really none of this is anyone’s fault,” he kept his voice even, wanting nothing more than to hug her, to wipe away all the tears, and make sure she never had to shed another one again.

“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s what keeps running through my head.” She reached up and readjusted the messy bun that her hair was falling out of. “But, for the record, I asked you to leave.” JJ raised an eyebrow as she said this, as though he didn’t believe her. The truth was, neither of them really remembered who had dumped who or why he had left in the first place. Nothing happened that they couldn’t work out with a little bit of effort. “Didn’t I?” she faltered.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“We just fought a lot, didn’t we?”

“Constantly. You were a bitch.”

She turned to him, mouth open. She slapped at his shoulder, “I know you did not just call me a bitch, bitch!”

He smirked at her. “Maybe you weren’t that bad. Apparently, I was a slob.”

“You are a slob,” she chuckled. Then she sighed and moved to heat up her tea. “But that’s no reason to dump someone. We just… fell out of love, I guess.”

“I didn’t.” His voice was so soft he was barely even sure he had spoken. Based on the way Kiara froze, her back tense, he’d definitely said those private thoughts aloud.

She turned slowly, her face pale with lack of sleep and - something else. Was that anger? Or sadness? “You’ve had more than a year to confess something like that to me, and you choose now?”

JJ shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say.

“That was the issue all along, wasn’t it?” Kiara’s voice shook, but she kept her tone cool, even. “You wouldn’t communicate with me.”

“Oh, come on, Kie, that’s not fair.” It was too late for a fight. They were both tired and emotional. This wouldn’t end well.

“What’s not fair?” Her voice had started to rise in volume and pitch as her anger increased. She wasn’t even sure why she was angry in the first place, but something about JJ’s confession caused her blood to boil. “The fact that you didn’t admit you still loved me when you left over a year ago? Or the fact that you choose to admit that to me while I’m exhausted and emotionally compromised?”

“Don’t be like that! That’s not what I’m doing.” JJ tried to keep his voice lower than hers, so they wouldn’t wake Mike or Anna, but the way her eyes flashed told him that wouldn’t happen. He grabbed her bicep and led her out to the backyard.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away from him, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine in the cool November evening air. “You don’t get to manhandle me and manipulate me into falling back into your arms like nothing happened.”

“That’s not-“ JJ ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know I’m shit at communicating this stuff.”

“At saying ‘I love you?’ At being emotionally present? Listen, I know your dad was fucked up and he fucked you up, but you’re a grown-ass man now. You could have learned how to be there for me!”

“Don’t bring him into this!” They’d had this fight a million times before. The recurring theme of their demise being communication. Their fire had been sputtering under the faulty system they had in place long before they realized what their problems were - it was something neither of them wanted to admit. “Fuck it, Kie, even if I had wanted to get any better at communicating, you were no help. You held every single one of my mistakes over my head. There was no road to redemption for you.”

“No, no that’s not true. I tried to help you-“

“Only telling me what I did wrong wasn’t helpful.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, stuttering in anger. “Well… if you still loved me so much, why did you leave?”

“Why stay when I knew you didn’t love me anymore?” JJ’s voice dropped and he avoided eye contact with her. 

Her eyes grew wide in realization. “You know what? Fuck you! I loved you until the day you left. If I had known you weren’t coming back I would have fought harder to keep you with me, and if you’re too dense to see-” He cut her words off, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her roughly. She melted into him, a single tear squeezing itself from her eye. He tasted of a coconut flavored vape pod and nicotine and the sea. He was just as stupid and lovely as ever. It only lasted a moment before she shoved at his chest, clearing her throat and turning from him to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. 

“I’m… I’m seeing someone,” she muttered by way of explanation.

“Oh.” JJ licked his lips, missing her more than he had before he kissed her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Who is it? Why aren’t they here?” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but he was curious. Who could she be seeing that wouldn’t support her during all of this? Who could she want to be with that wasn’t there, like he was?

“Um, her name’s Fern. I asked her not to come. I didn’t want her to meet my dad this way.” She started to walk toward the door, wrapping her arms around herself in the cold November evening air. 

“Kie,” JJ called after her. She turned slightly, to catch his eye out of the corner of her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything… I fucked a lot of things up. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

She nodded. “Me too.” With everything, she added mentally, and he knew she had.

Kiara and JJ wordlessly promised each other that they wouldn't let their differences ruin the upcoming holidays. So Thanksgiving passed uneventfully. It was almost a normal Carrera family holiday, besides the fact that Anna and JJ did most of the cooking. Mike tried once or twice to wander into the kitchen, but he didn’t make it long before having to sit back down. Kiara made him comfortable on the couch and they watched what little football was playing. She was sure to commentate on each play alongside him. The four of them ate extreme amounts of food, and laughed and played games. “Tomorrow we go get our Christmas tree,” Mike announced at the end of the night. Kiara bit her lip and glanced at JJ. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“That’s right, baby,” Anna replied, looking meaningfully at the others. 

And they did. They didn’t travel to the mountains, like other years, but they did go down to the local tree lot. Kiara made a big fuss about finding the fattest tree and over-scrutinized each one until she found the perfect Christmas tree, just like always. JJ had spent holidays with the Carrera’s before, but he had never been so intimately involved in all of their traditions. He thought Christmas might just become his favorite holiday at this rate. 

The weeks leading to Christmas weren’t all smooth sailing. Just a few days after Thanksgiving Mike was confined almost exclusively to a hospital bed in the living room. A nurse moved in a few days after that. He slept fitfully if he slept at all, and most days, the pain (or the pain medication) kept him from interacting with the rest of them. Kie would read to him in the evenings, starting with A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep after only a few paragraphs each time, so it took a long while to get through the story. All four of them watched classic Christmas movie after classic Christmas movie - many of which JJ hadn’t ever seen (to which Anna always replied, “That’s going on our list, then!”). Mike managed to stay awake for the entirety of Elf, his favorite. 

Christmas day was quiet. JJ cooked breakfast for everyone, and Anna gushed about how good his cooking had gotten. They had opted not to exchange gifts this holiday, instead filling their stockings with all their favorite candies and snacks. It had been JJ’s idea, and Kiara thought he might have been a secret genius for suggesting it. In the afternoon, Fern called Kie and they talked for over an hour. JJ thought she looked satisfied when she returned, but nowhere near as happy as one should be when they got off a long conversation with their girlfriend. It was probably just the current circumstances. She didn’t say anything other than, “What’s the next movie, Dad?”

Mike died two days after Christmas. He went in his sleep, which was exactly what he had wanted. No fuss, no doctors trying desperately to save him. Just a good night’s sleep where he peacefully breathed his last. He didn’t look the same as he once had. Cancer had changed him so drastically, his once strong imposing frame a mere shadow of its former glory. But his face was smoothed out, lines of pain, grief, and illness wiped away, leaving simply peace. He could have been asleep, but now he would never wake up. Looking at him, Kiara felt like she was drowning. Like every breath she fought to take just filled her lungs with more and more water. Her dad was her rock, and now she was sinking in a wide, dark ocean. She thought she might never breathe again. 

The funeral was tiny - it was only close family that attended - three days after he passed. The sky was clear and blue and the air was cold, typical North Carolina winter. It had snowed the day before, just a bit, so the ground was frozen and white. It could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Anna didn’t cry that day. She said she had cried enough. The snow started falling again that evening, once they got home, and she said that was Mike’s way of telling her he loved her. She loved the snow.  

JJ went back home the day after the New Year. Anna told him to stay as long as he wanted, but he said it was time for him to move on. She understood, hugged him tightly before he went, admonishing him to come around often. He said he would, and promised to help with anything she needed around the house, too. Kiara sat huddled on the front porch in a rocking chair, wrapped in a thick blanket with a cup of hot cocoa as he walked out. “You’re not going to say goodbye?” he teased kindly. 

She looked up at him, her eyes still bloodshot and sorrowful. He wanted to hold her. He wished she had never had to go through any of this. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us.”

JJ shook his head. “It was selfish. I thought if I was nearby maybe it wouldn’t happen.”

“It was anything but selfish,” She insisted, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Really, J. We couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

JJ might have leaned too deeply into her touch, no matter how cold her hands were. It somehow felt colder when she moved away. He cleared his throat. “So what’re your plans now? Getting back on the road?”

“Not until spring. Mom won’t admit it, but she’s not ready to be alone. She’ll need some help coping. And honestly, I’m not itching to leave.”

“I thought you’d wanna skip out as soon as possible. Doesn’t Fern miss you?”

She squinted her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. “I’ll miss having you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll still be around. I think your mom will institute Sunday dinners or some shit if I don’t come over regularly.”

Kie chuckled. “She really loves you. Dad does - did, too.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I love them, too,” JJ said, honestly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up his bags and leaving. Kiara caught her breath as his lips brushed her skin, warmth spreading from where he made contact. Her wide eyes stayed glued to his figure as he loaded up his truck and drove away. 

If normal could be achieved after a year like the Carrera women had experienced, they worked their hardest to achieve it. Anna threw herself into caring for the Wreck and it had the best off-season it had had in years. Kiara wrote songs and worked alongside her mother and even took some online classes. Anna did indeed institute Sunday dinners with JJ and he came to as many of them as he could. Life was slow to move forward, but Kie and Anna kept each other afloat, reminding themselves that Mike wouldn’t have wanted them to sit still crying over him. Step by step they picked up the pieces of their lives. 

Things went along this way for a couple months or so. The world was calming down, but not fully quiet yet - when was the world ever quiet? Kiara never thought she could enjoy the quiet slow life that was the Outer Banks during the off-season, but after the year she’d had, she wanted nothing more than simple domesticity. She said as much during one of their Sunday dinners, enticing a knowing smile from her mother and a surprising lack of eye contact from JJ. She cornered him on the back deck when he’d stepped out to smoke. She was grateful they had regained some of the ease their friendship had carried when they were younger. “Okay, what was that all about?”

He chewed on his lip, twisting his cigarette between his fingers. He’d given up weed a while back when they were traveling, out of necessity, but she was secretly glad he’d never taken it up again. “I’m leaving,” he said abruptly. 

“Leaving? Going where?” 

“Not sure yet. My cousin’s gonna watch the shop for me. Travel the states for a bit until it’s safer to leave the country. Then Mexico? Maybe.”

“When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, “Don’t know. Not for a long time.”

“Why?” Her mouth had gone dry and her words had run out. JJ was a die-hard salt-lifer. He might pack up and leave occasionally, but the Outer Banks was home, where he belonged. She thought that no matter where he went, he’d always end up back here. Home. How could he leave now?

He turned to look at her, urgency and honesty shining in his eyes. “I know he was your dad, and I probably don’t have the right to feel this way, but I…” 

“You lost him, too,” she said, understanding.

“Need a change of scenery.” He shrugged again, putting out his cigarette before walking back inside. 

Kiara understood better than most the need to keep moving, the change of scenery a welcome distraction. Traveling alone left a lot of time to think and soul-search. She didn’t peg JJ as the soul-searching type, but grief changed people; he needed time. She could support him in that.

“You’re going with him, right?” Anna asked sternly as she and her daughter washed dishes that evening. JJ had just left. 

“What?” Kiara nearly dropped the plate she was drying. 

“JJ told me all about his plans. Getting out of here for a while will be good for him!” She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing Kiara’s shocked expression. “He talks to me, too, you know? Always has.”

Kiara chuckled lightly, “So even though he and I broke up, he never broke up with y’all?”

“You shouldn’t have broken up with him.”

Kiara’s heart stopped for a moment, as she processed what her mother had said. “What do you mean?” She started slowly. “I thought you didn’t approve of me dating someone from the Cut.”

Anna sighed, setting down a half-washed pan. She turned to her daughter. “Your dad and I always wanted what was best for you. We thought that meant college, a solid career, marrying up. But we realized recently that that is never what life’s about.” She reached out and took Kiara’s hands, tears starting to shine in her eyes. “Your dad was from the Cut. When we first got married, we had nothing except each other but being with him was the best decision I ever made. He made me happy. I think I made him happy, too.”

“You definitely made him happy, Mom. But JJ and I fought all the time, we couldn’t sort things out.”

Anna scoffed, “Your dad and I fought, too. Fights happen, but you have to realize you’re not fighting each other, you’re a team fighting the problem. Once you figure that out, you can work through anything.”

Kiara shook her head, but she had a soft smile on her lips. “Mom, I just don’t know.”

Anna smiled, tearfully. “That is what life’s about. Nobody knows! What really matters is who is there to walk with you in the unknown. Who is there for you when you need them? Through the good and the bad. Your dad was that person for me.” She paused and looked at Kiara meaningfully, “So I’ll ask again: are you going with him?”

She shouldn’t, but while considering all of this somehow she felt freer. Her father had just died, she should still be mourning him, and yet she knew that he wouldn’t want her to wallow - she had to pick herself up. You knew this was coming, she heard his voice in her head. She hoped she would never forget what that voice sounded like. You knew I was going. Now that I’m gone, you’re free to live your life again. Live it, Kiara.

JJ finished buying his ticket for the ferry. It was cold out, more snow on its way. He had some time to kill before loading up his truck, but not much. He double-checked the straps on his luggage in the bed of the truck and was just beginning to contemplate how to pass the time when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Kiara running toward him, backpack bouncing wildly on her back. She was all flushed cheeks and shining eyes and curls tumbling around her shoulders. 

“I broke up with Fern,” her words came out in a rush as she drew near him before he could even greet her. “I broke up with her months ago.”

“O-okay,” JJ replied, heart pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He had just seen Kiara, why hadn’t she mentioned it then? Or before then? Why had she come all the way here to tell him that?

“And I’m coming with you,” she continued. 

“What?” JJ wasn’t one to be lost for words, but he couldn’t say anything else. 

“You make me happy. When the world went to shit you were the one person I wanted to know was safe. You were there for me and my whole family in the darkest few months of our lives and you really cared about us. I don’t care that we fought or that we will fight because being with you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

If she was going to say anything else, her words were swallowed up when he kissed her, hands cupping her cold cheeks. “I love you,” he said when she pulled back to breathe. “I never stopped. I didn’t know how to fight for you, how to stay, but I’ll do better. I can be better.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Shut up, we’ll figure it out. We can do it right this time.” 

Sometimes things die. It’s a sad cycle. The brightest fires turn cold and gray. But with time, new sparks can settle in that bed of ash. With care a new fire can start, burning brighter than before. So, even though things sometimes die, sometimes those dead things lead to an even more beautiful beginning.

[purplesurveys]

1275

When you were younger, did your mother or father ever let you open a few presents before Christmas or your birthday even arrived?  We open all our presents the night of Christmas Eve to begin with; but no, they don’t tease by letting us open a few of them before our usual schedule.

If you could receive a 100 dollar gift card for either blouses, pants, dresses, shoes or purses, which would you chose?  If I could change blouses to shirts, then I would go with that because I’ve recently gotten into t-shirts and sweatshirts and no longer the trendy and preppy tops I used to like haha. But if not, I would go for shoes.

What is your favorite thing to do after crying? Ex: Sleep, listen to music, have some alone time, talk to someone, etc?  It varies as it depends on how much I cried. The harder I cried the more I’d want to sleep it off, because it can actually get pretty exhausting. Sometimes I’ll reach out, sometimes I write. It’s really different every time, but at the end I’m just glad I can no longer even remember the last time I cried out of sadness.

Do you think Trump will be assassinated, or will he survive his term?  Well we know the answer to this. It’s satisfying to notice him disappear off the face of the Earth immediately after his term, though. I don’t have a clue what he’s up to now.

Last time you felt suicidal?  For some reason I felt down last Thursday and I felt the slightest, slightest tinge of suicidal thoughts. No idea where it came from.

Last time you had butterflies?  Ugh idk but it was probably BTS-related hahahahahahah

Biggest asshole you know?  Certain politicians.

Did you ever leave someone because you know you’d hurt them?  No, I was on the opposite side of the coin for this one. I was broken up with because they believed they would hurt me, if not already doing so.

What song did you last listen to?  Hip Hop Phile by BTS.

Ever ridden in a police car?  Nopes.

Ever witnessed a murder?  Hmm, not that I can recall. I do remember having to monitor crime stories for one of my very first journalism assignments and the one time I didn’t tag along to the fieldwork with my classmates, they got to witness a stabbing incident :/ By itself of course it always sucks to have violent situations like those, but as a reporter it would’ve been interesting to see the scene and its aftermath.

Have you ever lied under oath?  I don’t think so, no. I can’t even remember the last time I was put under oath.

Have you ever failed a subject before? I’ve failed exams but never an entire class.

Have you ever had a deadly animal as a pet?  No.

Have you ever kissed someone of the same gender?  Well yeah, I dated one.

Have you ever been in a hot tub before?  Sure.

Have you ever been to a movie that sold out?  I’ve never experienced trying to buy tickets only to find out they’re all sold out, but that’s also probably because we have hundreds of malls in Manila alone and you can always find a theatre that are still offering tickets.

What movie last made you too scared to go to sleep?  I’m not usually that way with horror movies, but I do remember running into a jumpscare on TikTok while I was scrolling at 3 AM. Not fun.

When you’re on a laptop, do you hook up a mouse or use the touchpad?  Touchpad. I never use a mouse.

What’s your mom’s mom’s name?  Agnes.

Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the person you like?  I’m not interested in anyone so this shouldn’t be a problem.

Have you ever been tempted to steal?  Sure, but the urge is never so strong.

What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? I’m not reading anything.

Do you have a favorite local band? Who are they? Nah. I did have a Ben&Ben phase, though I haven’t revisited their music in a long time.

Who’s the last person you saw naked, aside from yourself?  I’m not sure about completely naked, probably still my ex. As for partially naked, my dad sometimes goes shirtless at home as most Filipino dads do lol.

Who’s your favorite horror monster/killer?  The most iconic for me would be that porcupine looking ass from Resident Evil 4, I believe it was meant to be for one of the boss stages or something. Anyway, it’s memorable for me just because that fucker had been impossible to defeat and I loved watching my older cousin do attempt after attempt. I don’t think he ever got to beat him and by the time he did us cousins were already adults, lol.

On a side note, we called him ‘Porcupine’ as kids since a shitload of spikes would stick out of him unpredictably during the boss stage, and I thought that nickname had been just our thing; but I’m actually surprised that that villain actually comes up when you do a simple ‘Resident Evil 4 porcupine’ search haha. I guess other people called him the same thing too.

What kind of music do you prefer to listen to when driving?  I usually put on a playlist of BTS’ rapline; I tend to enjoy high-energy songs while driving.

Would you ever own a hairless rat, cat or dog?  I don’t see why I wouldn’t when it comes to the dog. I don’t want a cat or rat. 

All the people you’ve kissed, what did their names start with?  G.

What did you and your ex fight about most?  It was about the deeper, more profound stuff. We never saw eye to eye about the future, if we were helping the other grow, etc. Someone was always scared or insecure about something that the other could never help with fixing.

Don’t you love long hugs?  Sure, I love getting hugs as long as I’m comfy around the one giving it.

And long kisses?  Mhm, they’re nice.

Have you ever purchased condoms?  Only for Angela when she had still been too shy to ask for it herself. 

Have you ever gone on vacation with your boyfriend/girlfriend?  No. We had gone out of town for daytrips, but never for a fully-decked out vacation.

Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument?  I wouldn’t do anything that loud. My resentment’s a lot more reserved and subtle, definitely on the passive-aggressive side.

Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it?  If I left like a paint scratch, no. If I was somehow stupid enough to manage wrecking the car then yes.

Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot?  Oh that’s just gross. No. I do remember unknowingly parking over a spot meant for the handicapped once just because the paint was so fucking faded. It was genuinely so hard to tell but in the end I ended up just getting out of the spot and looked for another just to be on the safe, unassholey side.

Are you embarrassed to tell people your job?  Not at all! I love telling people I work in PR and sharing the brands I work with...it’s just a bitch trying to explain what exactly it is I do on a normal day. I’m still blanking out on it now that I’m thinking about it, haha. PR’s a challenge to summarize in one or two sentences.

If you ran over an animal would you keep driving?  I honestly have no clue how I’d deal with it. Ideally I would pull over and help bring it to the side of the road, and try to ask for help from passersby as well. I’m still not sure what I should/would do next.

Where’s the best place to eat a romantic dinner?  French, Spanish, and Italian restaurants always seem to carry a pleasant, date-y atmosphere to them, so any of those cuisines should be ok. I also like quieter restaurants with warm yellow lighting, since that makes me feel at home the most. The place definitely doesn't have to be super popular; I would just want for it to serve good food.

What hobby would you get into if time and money weren’t an issue?  Flying planes.

What would be the most amazing adventure to go on?  Probably something that’s booked with thrill-seeking adventures? Like a day of wakeboarding, paragliding, skydiving, riding an ATV...I would be exhausted as fuck and sleep for the next three days, but I can’t even begin to imagine how fun it would be.

When people come to you for help, what do they usually want help with? Writing stuff. < Yeah, essentially. My friends ask me for general life advice too.

Has anybody criticized the way your significant other looked like?  Yeah. But I always defended her.

Have you written or drawn anything for somebody else?  I mean I’ve written long letters, but I haven’t made a poem or song for anyone.

Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished?  These days it would probably be Arlan. He just finished his Masters in Journalism at Columbia and I couldn’t be more proud. I remember wanting to attend Columbia too, but seeing how my love of journalism turned out...I’ve long accepted the fact that that route was not meant for me, hahaha.

What is something you think everyone should do at least once in their lives?  Finish a painting, which can also serve as a callout to me lol.

What would you rate 10/10?  Seafood.

What do you hope never changes?  My relationships with my best friends.

Would you ever have sex with the last person you texted?  No, I barely have a clue who she is and she seemed decades older when she called me up this morning.

Is there anyone that you’d love to just spill your guts to?  I’m good.

Where is the person you have feelings at right now? 

Are you happy with your relationship status?  Yessssssss. I love not having to worry about another person to spend on LOL

When did you last cry? What for?  Two Saturdays ago. The one-year mark of my breakup had been coming up and an overwhelming wave of emotions just flooded me all of a sudden, I guess. There was happiness and relief from not being stuck in it anymore; feeling sorry for myself as I remembered the turmoil and deterioration I went through in the latter part the year; anger for the shit she pulled; and there was also just the general feeling of being grateful that I’m still here after everything.

Do you think you’re wasting your time on the person you love? 

When’s the next time you’ll kiss someone?  No clue. I’m not holding my breath for it and that’s okay.

Were you ever scared to death of anyone you knew? Or are you currently?  Yeah, unfortunately I’ve always been surrounded by at least one person who terrifies me.

What’s the longest you’ve been away from home by yourself?  Nothing more than a day. That’s something I have yet to try out.

Have you ever been made fun of, because of what you look like?  Athenna was relentless in her insults. I dunno why I was friends her for as long as I was.

Have you ever made fun of others, because of what they look like?  If they’re some random person on the internet with disgusting political views, then yeah; but it’s just thoughts I keep in my head and I never verbalized the bullying. But not anyone in real life. Do you think it’s cute when you’re leaving a place, and a guy says “no hug?”  If I’m friends with the person I’ll banter with them for a bit until I give in for a hug. If it was any other guy I barely know...I would be disgusted and throw them the dirtiest glare.

Do you wear short shorts (if you’re a girl)? I didn't know short shorts were specific to females. < LOL same. Anyway no, not these days. I used to but they’re not really a part of my personal style anymore.

Who are you the most uncomfortable around?  Relatives with the wrong political views.

Who has your heart?  Nobody.

Should cloning ever be allowed to happen?  I don’t see the point. No.

Are you impatient with really shy people? If it gets to the point that they seem aloof and radiate very I-could-not-care-less-about-getting-along-with-any-of-you vibes, then yeah I feel like I would get irritated pretty fast. But I was an extremely shy person once too, so I’m typically friendly with them and I would usually be That person who constantly stays next to them so they feel like they belong.

Does your house have air conditioning throughout, or do you have one that sits in your window?  It sits in the window, as with most households here.

What is the most ridiculous band name you’ve heard recently?  I haven’t encountered anything wacky recently.

Would you ever get a fashion mullet?  No.

Do you believe that Jesus lived and is returning?  No.

Do you believe in spiritual gifts?  No.

Do you believe in callings?  Not really, no.

If you were rich, would you get a professional photoshoot done?  Hell no. I get extremely sheepish in front of a camera and a thousand times worse at posing.

[violetsdicaprio]

“You!” with Tommy Shelby x Shelby sister angst please? If not then that’s fine ahaha🖤

Anon: Request where Tommy Shelby finds out his daughters been sleeping and sneaking out with a rival gangsta please

Romeo and Juliet      

-Part 1

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Sister! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, just Peaky Blinders themes.

A/N: I thought these two requests blended well, so here’s what I came up with! Also, when this request popped up, i thought i was in trouble 😂

“WHERE IS SHE?” THE VOICE OF Arthur Shelby boomed as he entered the den. Groups of men scrambled towards the 4 walls, trying to avoid the wrath of the man with the brutal reputation. “John! Have you seen Y/N?” He asked as he approached the boy by the black board. 

“Upstairs.” John replied, shaking his head at whatever rivalry had got into: again.

Bolting up the stairs, his heavy footfall could be heard against the rotting wood as he called, “Y/N!”

A faint voice mumbled, “Shit.” then an “Out, out.” before the slamming of a window. “What do you want, Artie?” The same voice called back, almost mocking him with the nickname she came up with when she was 3. 

“Open the fuckin’ door.” Arthur demanded as he tried to jiggle the door open but it was locked.

“I’m changing.” She snapped back, which was true but wasn’t the only reason. The heavy foot falls was once again heard trailing back downstairs as he sulked away, allowing Y/N to crack the window open revealing the dashing boy she’d been sneaking around with for the last year. “Sorry.” She whispered, a smirk played on the boys lips.

“Was worth it.” His deep voice replied before he winked, causing the girl to blush lightly and giggle. No one else but Mattia Sabini -Eldest son of Darby Sabini- had ever made her feel this way, it was corny, she thought. Yet it was true; her hard exterior completely dissolved when around him and it was the same with him…

“See you at the cut, later?” he asked and when the sudden movement from the hallways began to make them both panic, she pecked his lips.

“See you there.” she smiled as he jumped down and she closed and locked the window. Combing through her hair, she took the crazy strands behind her ear and zipped up the back of her dress, making sure she looked presentable…

Gracefully, she walked down the stairs, earning tilts of caps and bows of head from the men in the shop. Unlike the brothers who were feared, Y/N was respected, she was selfless and polite towards everyone -much to her brothers dismay- but she was the beam of light Small Heath needed to keep going!

“There you are.” Polly stated, her nose flared: oh she was mad. Y/N was quick to spin around to see her Aunt and Brother, cross armed staring at her. 

“What now?” The 18 year old rolled her eyes aggressively looking severely unimpressed by her family. Polly went to speak when Ada came marching in, followed by a red faced Finn and an out of breathe Isiah. “Yeyyy!” She spoke in a monotone voice. “One big happy family: reunited.” She added in a sarcastic tone, before her face dropped blank. A cold sneer on her face as she looked between them all, never mind the boys, her coldness sent a chill down Polly’s spine…

“Family meeting.” Arthur grumbled, all of them draped into the kitchen whilst Y/N held back, wanting to get away. You see, Y/N used to be close with her family, she really did but war changed them; all of them. Over time, she watched her Aunt deteriorate with fear, Ada got rid of the blanket - seeing how truly vile the world is. The boys came back almost unrecognisable, it hurt her more then anything else. Y/N hadn’t changed, still kind and caring as ever. It was only since there changed ways started to have an influence, she turned colder then the bleak midwinter. That’s the only way to survive this family, you see they tried to protect her, even more so then Finn! It drove her crazy, they acted as if they were the victim but with recent events her own family were becoming the enemy. So along with her cold exterior came her rebelliousness, her and Mattia were supposed to be temporary, they both wanted to break from their families hold but when the two were together it was a great enough escape as it was. However, the Shelby’s had one thing they all still had in common was their hatred to a certain Inspector Campbell.

Tiptoeing away from her family, she saw the one pig that made her blood turn cold and the colour to wash from her face. His sickening smirk was upon his lips, directed towards the young girl. Shivering as her chest began to rise rapidly, she knew he had a certain reputation with women and he hadn’t tried to hide his feeble attempts towards the young girl. Just as his eyes lingered on her, she felt completely dirty. Before she could say something, he flashed a chain she knew all too well.

Y/N’s eyes widened in slight horror, the silver cross gleamed in the dull sunlight as the family gem stone of the Sabini’s flashed in front of her eyes. Oh shit. He’s been watching, probably for months, watching me. She thought. Her heart was pumping so fast the girl presumed she would explode. Y/N knew if her dirty secret got out, it’d collapse the whole family and any progress they’d made -even if she didn’t agree with what they did. To be honest, she was the core to this family. Y/N kept them all sane and in order, Polly knew this, that’s why she pushed her niece away, that’s what she thought would be best for Y/N and the family. Yet Y/N just wanted to feel loved, like before…

Without realising, the Inspector had approached her. Gulping at the closeness, she tumbled back.

“Now, Miss Shelby, seems you have been busy.” His thick Irish accent filled her ears, causing her to shiver. 

“Leave me alone.” She expressed weakly, internally scolding herself for it.

“But I think you could be great for the cause. Smart and clearly” he paused, holding up the chain. “Sly.” 

Snatching the chain, she glared at the man who continued to smirk. “I don’t know where you fucking got this but you dare utter a single word of this, I’ll cut off your hands and bury you face down in a ditch.” She snarled, she done it once before, Campbell could be next for all she cared.

“Ah, maybe not the brightest. Threatening an Inspector.” he tutted, edging even closer.

A burst of anger fuelled her confidence as she leaned in, whispering “I don’t think the court would care, you didn’t even fight for your country. Your as good as dead to them already.” She whispered maliciously, the devilish smirk and twinkle in her eye reminded all that she was a fucking Shelby.

Walking backwards she watched his face fall flat, almost embarrassed. About to laugh, her body collided with another causing her to turn rapidly. Fuck. Thomas Shelby stood there slightly amused at the Inspectors reaction but his face faltered. Before she could slip away, he spoke “You!” he spoke harshly, “Family meeting.” Simply, she groaned.

“Don’t make me go, Tom.” She huffed, but it was too late she was already dragged by the arm. “Look! I found him.” Y/N announced as if she hadn’t tried to escape, slumping in the seat by John who she still got along with - slightly. “Alright Jo-Jo” she teased him with the old nickname.

“Yeeah, Yeah, shurrup.” he muttered back in a jokingly tone. The two sat and watched as the rest argued back and forth until Tommy turned to stare in their direction when Ada stormed out, scanning over his two younger siblings. Y/N never looked more interested in her life. 

“Right, everyone out.” he called. “Not you.” he directed at Y/N who sat back down with a huff. She even noticed Pol linger by the door, not sure if she wanted to leave the two alone: she did. 

“What do you want Tom?” she asked cautiously.

“What was Campbell speaking to you about?” he asked calmly, sitting down opposite her whilst lighting a cigarette and she did the same. Inhaling quickly.

“Oh you know, just casual chitter chatter.” She remarked sarcastically, not wanting this conversation to continue. Simply laughing at his intense glare as she did the same. Piercing blue eyes clashing with each other. 

“Am I Laughing?” He asked rhetorically.

“No but you should, might melt your cold heart.” She snapped back, had enough of his games. Although he didn’t show it, her comments did nip. everyone who was on the receiving end felt the nip, she was brutal and more importantly very personal. “Now, excuse me.” She spoke.

“I know what your fuckin’ doing.” He seethed, not one to let out his anger but she could easily pull everyone’s trigger, it was a gift. “Your gonna end up dead with him, probably thrown to the bottom of the cut.” 

Stopping dead in her tracks, her heart pricked repeatedly. Her wrists curled into balls. “What i’m doing?” She exclaimed. “I’ve done nothing.” 

“The Sabini’s are dangerous, I thought you of all people would understand.” He returned to his calm state after a few puffs of tobacco.

Y/N just scoffed. “Sounds familiar doesn’t it, Tom? Falling for the enemy. I thought you of all people would understand.” She reiterated, causing a moment of silence. 

Tommy huffed, “I’m worried for ya. You’re my sister.”

Y/N exhaled in a chuckle. “You care?” she shook her head. “No, all you fucking care about is business.”

“Y/N/N.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I tried. I fucking tried with you all. You pretend to care about family. All you want is power and money. If i turned up dead in the cut, you wouldn’t even shed a single fucking tear.” Y/N boomed, her temper rising and with the look on Tommy’s face, she was satisfied. Picking up her coat, she ran out to the den frantically. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Pol was quick to see Tommy who was sat there with his head in his hands. 

“Y/N?” Arthur asked, placing his arm on his sisters’ shoulder only to be shoved away.

“Fuck off!” She screamed, causing the whole place to fall silent never seeing the girl so angry; an angel soon turned the devil. In a split second she was gone. 

 Bang. 

Everyone stared at the door then turned to Arthur who was now on his way to Tommy with a murderous look plastered across his face…

[starlight-writes-stuff]

‘light me up’ chapter four : blackout

a/n : hey , sorry this took forever lol . i’m working on a couple requests at the same time , and just trying to juggle everything (: this chapter is a little bit shorter than the past few (3.3k) but i promise the next two are hot fire . stick with me , okay ? xoxoxoxoxo , starlight <3

tw : panic attack , fainting

reblogs are always appreciated !

☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁

You could feel Draco’s eyes following you all the way up the stairs, through the heavy oak door that led to your room. If looks could kill, you’d be dead and gone by now- there was a certain heat, a certain intensity behind Draco’s stare that seemed to cut right through you. Before you opened the door to your bedroom, you took a moment to prepare yourself for the onslaught of questions you were sure to receive.

You weren't prepared for the exact opposite: complete and suffocating silence. Rose didn’t even meet your eyes as you walked into the room, laying your bag down on the nearest surface, and Belle just looked you over, forcing a smile. 

“I thought you were doing homework, Y/N? Are you already finished?”

The sadness and disappointment were evident in Belle’s voice and seemed to tear right through you as you took a seat on your trunk.  You felt trapped- an unstoppable force against an immovable object. It seemed like the most perfect, painful paradox, and you knew that there was no getting out of this.

“Yeah.”

Belle scrunched her face, then broke eye contact. Neither of your friends could even look at you, and all you could say was ‘yeah.’ you felt wave after wave of disappointment and self-hatred roll over your shoulders, slowly crushing you. Dimly, you wondered what you looked like on the outside- could anyone see you falling into a spiral? Was it obvious, what was going on in your head? Or did you just look normal, plain as ever?

“Draco came to talk to me.”

Belle’s movements paused briefly; neither of your friends were used to his name being brought up in conversation. Draco wasn’t someone that seemed to revolve in the same universe as you guys, much less the same friends. She quickly resumed packing her bag, still not looking at you. Her voice was even and measured when she spoke again.

“How did that go?” You wanted to scream. The entire conversation felt so false, so forced, and you knew it was your fault. Before you had time to think about it, you stood up from your trunk and walked over to Rose. she was laying on her bed, reading, and didn’t bother to look up at you.

“Are you really gonna do this?”

Silence.

“Fine. You guys want to know what’s wrong? I’ll tell you.” you exclaimed, the words shooting from your mouth, each one coated in your spiteful, impulsive poison. “Everyone, everyone in my life leaves, okay? They get to know me, they decide that i’m too much to handle, or they don't like what they see, or whatever, and they run. Cedric promised me he would stay. He promised me,” you said, voice breaking, “that he wasn’t going to run.” to your horror you felt something wet start a trail for many down your cheek. Tears rolled from your eyes like raindrops from dark clouds, and you fell apart. 

Every wall you’d ever built seemed to deteriorate in an instant, crumbling down and smothering you. You felt every part of your body be pulverized by the force of each hateful, vicious brick, every bit of blistering mortar. The violence splintered your bones and ripped your muscles at the seams. It was as if all of your nerve endings were being electrocuted, a car battery having its merry way with all the electric signals pulsing throughout your body. You couldn’t breathe- it was as if your throat was pinned shut, cruel staples cutting you off from sweet oxygen you felt your lungs decay, the pink muscle going black with the lack of the vital substance. Your emotions seemed to overtake you, never sparing you the chance for one final breath before they wrenched you down, down, down to the depths of your psyche before drowning you forever. 

                                                     ☁ ☁ ☁

The first thing you noticed after regaining consciousness was the sun. Something luminous and harsh was poking at your eyelids, lighting your skin with a yellowish glow. You squeezed your eyes shut before trying to blink yourself awake, realizing that the sun had been the mysterious glow. You then noticed that you weren’t in your bed, or your clothes. 

This woke you up quickly. After a short investigation of your surroundings, you quickly deduced that you were in the infirmary. Belle and Rose were in beds on either side of you, both girls sitting up in some way. They were angled toward you, and each had various medical supplies: a rag, a mostly melted bag of ice, some sort of vial of pure ginger extract. Your body immediately humbled you as you tried to sit up, a skull splitting pain searing throughout your brain. You slumped back, moaning in pain.

Both of your friends woke up instantly at the noise, scrambling off of their cots and over to you. “Oh thank Merlin-”

“Get madam Pomf-”

“I'm just so glad you're okay i-”

“Jesus, Y/N, you scared us-”

“I promise i will never not talk you you again-”

A groan escaped your lips, all the noise too much for you to take in at once. Belle and Rose lowered their voices, their concern coming out in soft coos and scared murmurs. The pair seemed to have worked all the concern out of their systems, and were now assessing their next move. Belle set off to find Madam Pomfrey while Rose stayed behind, picking up one of your hands.

“What happened?”

Rose looked at you with an untraceable expression- you couldn’t read her for the first time ever. “We don’t know. It was like… you just- left. You were talking and then you started breathing like, really fast. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you were just… gone. We’ve been here all night. Madam Pomfrey said you had some sort of panic attack.”

“Merlin,” you whispered, swearing under your breath. You’d had panic attacks before, but never this severe. It had manifested physically; this was the first time it hadn’t been all in your head. You took a brief moment to collect yourself, processing the information that Rose had shared. You didn't know what you were supposed to do, or say, or anything really.

“Did someone catch me?”

Rose pulled a face, and your head throbbed. Propping yourself up on elbows, you brushed a hand over the back of your skull. You recoiled as you made contact with a massive bump on the back of your head. With more gentle fingers you inspected the egg sized lump that had taken up residence on your skull. 

“It was really fast- we didn’t have time to react. Belle immediately started screaming. She thought you died. Her screams were loud enough to alert the common room- someone had already run halfway to Madam Pomfrey’s before we woke you back up. Do you remember?”

“What?” The last thing you remembered was coming up to bed after talking to Draco. 

“Yeah. we woke you up after you’d passed out- only for a minute, really. You were panicked; you thought that you were drowning. You kept telling Belle and I that you couldn’t breathe, that you were sinking. Madam Pomfrey gave you something to knock you back out. You’ve been sleeping since then.”

You brought your hands back down into your lap, trying to lay back down. The bump had become more apparent now that you were fully awake; it radiated a dull, throbbing pain throughout your whole body. You looked up at Rose, who seemed to be searching your face for something. 

“Are you okay?”

Rose scoffed, but the tears in her eyes seemed to betray her hard exterior. She wiped harshly at the droplets, leaving angry red smears on her cheeks. “Maybe. I don't know. For a split second- you know-” she stuttered, trying to find the words. “I thought that you died or something. Like, you were having a heart attack, and you died with me ignoring you. I was really scared.” 

You blinked, taking a big breath in. “i’m sorry.”

This caught Rose off guard. You were rarely the first to apologize- your stubborn nature was one of your biggest struggles. It was also why you were so good at ignoring your emotions; until now, apparently. Right as she started to respond Belle came rushing in, Madam Pomfrey in hand. 

“See, she’s awake,” Belle painted, out of breath. She must’ve sprinted all the way to the healers quarters.

You offered a weak wave to Madam Pomfrey. “Alright, Y/N?”

“Alright. Sore, but alright.”

“Gonna be sore for a while- you knocked ‘rself pretty good. How’s your memory?” she asked, starting concussion protocol. You’d sat through many of these with Cedric.

“Not bad. I don’t remember anything past going up to bed, but everything before that.”

“What day of the week is it?”

You faltered for a second, but recovered quickly. “Sunday.”

“And what house ‘re you in?”

“Slytherin.” 

“Middle name?”

“Y/M/N. I’m fine, I promise. Just a little banged up.”

“What’s the date?”

“It's October 29th. I’m okay, really,” you explained, gritting your teeth against the agony that came with sitting up. Once you were upright, you grabbed for the glass of water that sat by your cot, untouched. You drank the whole thing in three sips, pouring more from the pitcher as you met Madam Pomfrey’s eyes. “Do you know what happened to me?”

“It seems as if you worked yourself into a bit of a situation, love. Do you have panic attacks often?”

“Yes.” you tried not to react to the face’s Rose and Belle made; they were hurt. You hadn’t told them that.

“Faint usually?”

“No. Never. I don't know why this time was any different,” you answered honestly. You were usually able to get yourself through your panic attacks with minimal effort- you’d been dealing with this for years. It was just something you were used to by now. 

Madam Pomfey hummed as she thought, turning to rummage through some shelves. She returned with a clear, unmarked bottle, corked with what looked like a cinnamon stick. The liquid inside was clear and thin, just like water. “What is this?”

“To help with the faintness, the lightheaded feeling. Got something going for your goose egg. I’ll be back with that in a bit. Alright?” she asked again, clearly concerned. 

“Fine, no worries.”

Madam Pomfrey looked to Rose, making steely eye contact. “You make sure she drinks that. Gonna get real busy here in about 20 minutes- all the quidditch players ’ll be comin’ in. want her out of here before that- too loud for a head injury. Understand?” 

Looking slightly intimidated and yet determined, Rose nodded her head. As Madam Pomfrey exited your two friends looked to each other, then down at you in sync. 

“How are you, really?” Belle asked, picking up one of your hands to hold. “Thought we lost you there for a minute.”

“I’m okay, really. This has never happened before. Freak accident, or something,” you explained, trying not to cringe at the ache rippling through your body. You drank another cup of water as both girls were silent. What do you say in a situation like this, though?

“Why didn’t you tell us it’s been getting bad again?” Belle asked, voice breaking and weak.

“I’m sorry.” 

Rose squeezed your shoulder, drawing you attention off of Belle and her misty eyes. “I mean this from a place of love: `I’m sorry’ isn't enough anymore, Y/N. You can’t do this stuff to yourself- I won’t let you.”

Again; unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

But this time the object is fractured and frail and too drained to fight back. Not so immovable anymore. 

“I didn’t think it was this bad; usually I can tell. I guess I locked myself too far down. I can’t- couldn’t- really feel anything. Blocked it all out, I think.”

“Why?”

You thought about this for a moment. Why really was the question. Why had you shut yourself down so far? Why had you let it get so bad? Why had everything gotten so bad so fast? Why had you passed out?

“I don't know. I mean- a lot has been happening, I guess. And for me… well, for me it’s better to feel nothing than to feel hurt, you know?”

Belle sniffled, and Rose murmured something to the sensitive girl under her breath. Belle nodded, and turned around. You watched your best friend’s slumped over form exit the room, the noise of her cries softening the further away she got. 

“Do you remember what you were telling me before? I mean, before you passed out?”

You thought about this for a second- you remembered a tense, very strained exchange with Belle and Rose, but you couldn’t recall what it was over. Then, everything was blurry, all muffled and underwater. You did your best to sort through the memories, and landed on one of Draco Malfoy. It came back to you, how you’d left the blonde boy sitting there with no explanation after coming off rather cold. You tried to process this, a grimace building on your face. 

“I remember sitting in the common room, talking to Draco. But everything is murky after that. Why?”

Rose’s face cycled through a multitude of expressions before relaxing back to something neutral again. “Why were you talking to Malfoy?”

“He came over to me.”

Rose swore under her breath, putting a hand on your shoulder as she made eye contact. “You can’t tell Belle I told you this- she doesn’t think you should know, but… anyway. When you fainted, Belle panicked, right? And Draco was the first to respond. From what she told me, he heard your name and the words ‘passed out’ and broke into a dead sprint to the infirmary. He came by to visit you early this morning- he seemed concerned.”

Your stomach tied itself into knot after knot, coiling in on itself. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this information. Why had Draco come to check on you? Why did he care?

“Oh.”

“Yeah. That's off topic, though. You don't remember what we were talking about?” Rose asked, looking earnest. You knew that you were missing a key piece of the puzzle, but you couldn’t seem to find it. You shook your head at the dark haired girl, the action sending pain reverberating through your body. Rose stilled, her body looking as if it were about to snap like a tensed rubberband. You could tell that she was having some sort of internal debate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to figure out what she was thinking. Everything hurt too bad. You wanted to go back to sleep.

You pulled the small vial from Rose’s fingers, uncorking the bottle and tossing the liquid back into your throat. You coughed and sputtered, eyes welling from the fire that seemed to be coursing its way down the back of your pharynx- you felt like you were choking for the second time in 24 hours. It was not a pleasant feeling.

Rose rushed to pour another cup of water, tipping your chin up and holding the cup to your lips. You drank it down as if you were dying, the cool liquid extinguishing the flames licking your insides. 

“What is that?

Before Rose could answer, Madam Pomfrey came trotting back in, holding a lavender-colored compress. It seemed to be glowing from the inside, and emitted a sweet scent of some sort of herb that you couldn’t put your finger on. 

“Right then Y/N, put this on your head.”

You didn’t bother to ask what it was, seeking any sort of relief from the agony that was working its way up and down your spine. Taking the compress from Madam Pomfrey, you placed the icy cold cloth on the bump that had formed. A moan of pleasure escaped your lips as the pain seemed to be leached from your skull- it was as if it had never been there in the first place. “Wow. What is this?”

“Old recipe. Pulls the pain right out, doesn’t it? Feeling okay?”

You went to lift your hand to give the wrinkled woman a thumbs up, but your arms felt like rubber. You began to worry when you tried to push yourself up onto elbows, but couldn’t get your limbs to behave.

Madam Pomfrey sucked a breath in through her teeth. “Right- that’s a normal side effect. Weakness. Should be gone within the day. If not, come and see me again.”

You sputtered, beginning to fight back; why hadn’t she explained this to you before you’d drained the pain from your head? You began to think that you’d rather have the skull splitting ache back, but there was no way you were going back to that. The complaint died in the back of your throat as you heard a rumble approaching the infirmary.

“Oh dear, the game must’ve finished. Y/N, how's the head?”

You rolled your neck from side to side, letting it fall back against the pillow. There was a dull sort of throb, but significantly less pain than before. “Alright, I think.”

Madam Pomfrey gave you a satisfied sort of nod, then tuned to Rose. “feel okay about getting her out of here? Probably going to need to be monitored for the next few hours.”

Rose blinked, her eyebrows starting to furrow. She opened her mouth, ready to say something but before she could do so the doors to the infirmary cracked open. Quidditch players in various stages of dishevelment poured in, each calling out for Madam Pomfrey’s assistance. 

And there he was.

Draco was bleeding from his lip, a stream of the crimson liquid making its way down his chin. This somehow made him look even better- you took a moment to evaluate why you were even more attracted to him now- then broke your stare, looking at Rose. “Can we go?”

“How am I supposed to get you out of here?” she asked in a harsh whisper, glaring at someone. You didn’t have to turn your head to figure out who.

“Y/N,” Draco breathed, his voice filled with concern. “You’re up. Are you okay?”

You widen your eyes at Rose, a signal. She gave you a barely perceptible nod, then you turned to give Draco a tight smile. “Hey, Malfoy. I’m fine, really.”

“What happened? You weren’t even upstairs for 10 minutes before Belle-”

“I hate to interrupt, but I really need to get Y/N up to bed. She’s on bedrest for today, so we should probably go.” Rose’s voice was unyielding and left no room for Draco to talk back. He scoured your face for some sort of answer, but couldn’t find anything in your blank expression. Finally, Draco put a hand on your arm, squeezing the completely numb limb. 

“Yeah, okay. Hey, we won,” he said, a warm smile painting Draco’s lips. Your heart fluttered, jumping up into your throat as Draco’s voice dropped lower. “Drove them into the ground.”

You were disgusted by how soft your voice came out, answering the blonde boy. “Shame I couldn’t see it.”

Before the two of you could continue whatever you were doing, Rose cleared her throat. “Y/N,” she spoke, her voice hard. “We need to go. How are we leaving?”

You turned to Rose, simultaneously grateful and angry with her for ending the gentle exchange you and Draco had been sharing. “I don't know. What did Madam Pomfrey say?”

Rose squabble with the answer, biting the inside of her cheek. She seemed to realize that there was no workaround for the situation- she couldn’t lift you, and the last time she’d done a levitation spell a pillow had exploded mid-air in your shared room. 

“Draco, can you lift her?”

Balls.