#the mood for this fic is The water by hurts and youre somebody else by flora cash
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kratosnaturals · 3 months ago
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The Language of Flowers WIP #1
She always looked his way. Nick could see it from the corner of his mechanical eye. Always passing him glances with an unreadable expression, something between anger and disgust, if he had to guess by her constantly furrowed brows. Nothing unusual for him, really. He had gotten used to it long ago, but something about that look in her grassy eyes sent a shiver down his titanium spine. It was like her eyes were glowing, too, like his. They were so full of life, yet so dead. Those scarred lips opened and told sweet lies, uncomfortable truths and spouted hypocrisy like psalms.
This case would be the end of him, he knew deep inside. In one way or the other, somewhere along the way. Torn to bits and pieces he would be, like his breathren, burned to ash and left for dead himself, like she was. His heart would break and she would be the reason, and the cure. He would kill, and kill, and kill, until he'd choke and suffocate on the blood.
· · ───────────── ·✿· ───────────── · · Nick didn’t exactly ‘dream’ like a human, or a 3rd gen Synth would. It was more so memories that his wires and circuits for brains replayed. Still, it was close enough for him. He didn’t exactly have another choice, having been stuck like that for over a century now, barely a decent copy of a long dead man from before the Great War. It felt like his very existence was mocking that man. An abomination of science. A disgrace to Mother Nature.
Those dreams haunted him still, even after all that time. It didn’t happen every time he ran a diagnostic, luckily, but whenever it did it sent him for a loop anew. Vague flashes of a life never his; childhood days spent in the sun, his first kiss behind a school dumpster, misty faces posing as parents, a fiancé not his own, cigarettes and bourbon that didn’t taste so stale yet. Never enough to really do anything with. Always taunting him.
This time it was Jenny again; she was resting on his naked chest, in the nude herself, arms draped lazily over his middle. A little snore would slips past her lips occasionally, and he’d chuckle every single time, the movement making her shake a little. The heady smell of sex was still thick in the air, now accompanied by her favourite soap and his cigarettes. The buzz of his orgasm was just wearing off as the sun started to go down, leaving the sky orange and pink. Nick sighed and brushed a few loose stands from Jenny’s face, a smile on his lips. The evening light always painted her face in such a beautiful way, like a maestro’s painting, like only the finest art. But, to him, no mortal man could capture such beauty with a mere brush and paint. Nobody could capture those high cheek bones, those rosy lips, that soft, shining hair and those big brown deer eyes, and those thin lines resting on their edges.
This was a pleasant dream, nothing like some of the others; heartbreak and workplace injuries, the day Jenny was taken from the world and from him. It was one he didn’t want to leave again. Nick was content to simply ‘sleep’ for a while longer, maybe just a few hours, and truly rest, in the embrace of someone he trusted. Or, rather, he thought he trusted her. It wasn’t like he actually ever knew Jenny, not really. He wasn’t Nick Valentine. So how could he even love someone he didn’t actually know?
“-ck… Nick…” a voice whispered, lulling him gently out of his synthetic sleep, but he didn’t stir. These memories were too pleasant.
“Nick…” firmer this time. Still, he didn’t react. Not yet.
“Nick. Nick!”
The synth detective startled awake, his diagnostics cut off immediately with a sharp stabbing pain in his head. His ‘brain’ sent him all sorts of errors and warning messages that he chose to ignore, for now, with a resounding groan, cupping his temple. His optics needed a moment to come back online, but he recognized Ellie by her voice.
“I’m sorry, Nick-” Ellie started, pity painting her face, clearly feeling some guilt for ripping him out of his ‘sleep”, “but Garvey called in on the HAM. He needs you at Sanctuary right away.”
Nick sighed, sitting up properly from the bed. The 3rd call this month alone, “another missing persons case?”
“Yeah. Kid this time, and his dad. Didn’t return from a trip to a nearby settlement. No trace of them,” Ellie informed him with a sombre expression. Raiders, Gunners, maybe even some wild animals, Nick guessed. Not a rare occurrence at all, but that didn’t make it any less tragic. One got get used to it, however.
“Not even Dogmeat?”
“He’s gone with Nate. In Goodneighbor, according to Garvey.”
Another sigh, “alright. Can you call Hancock and tell him to send Nate and Dogmeat to Sanctuary?”
Ellie nodded, heading back upstairs, “done.”
“Thank you, Ellie,” Nick said with a wave. The synth heard her call into Goodneighbor as he strolled back into the main room to grab his hat and coat. The dim light in the agency made him a little groggy, but at least he no longer had any stray boxes to stumble over or case files to slip on anymore, not since Ellie and Nate really hounded him to properly clean up his space and fix his furniture. He checked his coat pockets – a pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and another pack of ammo. Then he tapped at his ribs – his gun was holstered in place. As it always was – he never took it off. He was set. By sundown Nick would be at Sanctuary, and at daybreak he could start his search, hopefully with Dogmeat by his side.
“Alright Ellie, I’m going out. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’ll call when I’m at Sanctuary,” Nick yelled. Ellie bade him farewell and to stay safe, and he set off with an ache in his heart, feeling like he had just lost someone important again.
· · ───────────── ·✿· ───────────── · ·
Nick exhaled, shakily, ragged, put a hand over his mouth, fingers digging into his cheek and jaw, then bit his knuckles, mind and processors racing with a million unasked and unanswered questions, a million possibilities. He already knew he couldn’t say no. Not with so many lives on the line, not with people like that running around the Commonwealth and threatening the safety of the innocent. The look she was giving him burned, it itched, it stung, it hurt. Deep inside, on his skin, under his skin, everywhere at once. This was dangerous. This person was dangerous. The people she wanted to maim and hang were dangerous. And once again his sense of duty and conscience got the better of the soft-hearted detective.
“How many are there?”
“Plenty. A whole legion, maybe. They travel in small groups. Have a big one somewhere nearby.”
He wagged his finger as he eyed the notebook again, “how many did you already take out?”
“Each fingerprint is one.”
Counted, and counted, and counted, and counted, and counted again until he got dizzy and shut it again, “you’ve been busy.”
He got to twenty-two before stopping, inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
“They always come back, like roaches. They’ve figured out someone is on their tail.”
A cigarette was lit and put between his lips, fingers crossed on his metal desk, “what’s your plan?”
Everything in him screamed and wailed; stop! This is wrong! Blood money is trouble!
Yet he couldn’t look away, ignore her words and the clear tone of her voice, “have the little roaches lead us back to the nest and take out the big guys.”
It would be the end of him, he knew deep inside. In one way or the other, somewhere along the way. Torn to bits and pieces he would be, burned to ash and left for dead himself. “How many caps?”
“As many as you want. I got plenty to spare.”
“This is going to cost you. A lot.”
“In that case,” Darcy started, rising up from her seat, “I can offer other services.”
There was something in her eyes, or maybe he was just imagining it, the way she looked at him. It was a wicked kind of expression. The detective cringed, his metal jaw creaking and face twisted so harshly he nearly dropped the burning cigarette between his lips. He pushed away from the desk, “I don’t take that kind of payment.”
“Not what I was implying,” the other said with a sour expression. Disgust. “You help me, I help you. Quid pro quo. One hand washes the other – we all need someone to watch our backs out in the wasteland. I can do that for you while you solve your cases.”
A sigh of relief, “you should have just said that. Maybe I could teach you some social cues, too.”
“Maybe you should get your mind out of the gutter. It’s slimy.”
His left eye twitched, just slightly. For a moment Nick regretted inviting her in.
“Do you want my help or not?” mild irritation laced his voice. Darcy frowned.
An outstretched hand, just like when they first met. No hesitation. When Nick grasped it it was just as warm and soft again, pliable in his own iron grip, “eight o’clock sharp. We just got another case in this evening. Ellie will fill you in.”
With a nod Darcy grabbed her coat and backpack, headed for the door but Nick stopped her, “oh, and one more thing – keep your caps for now.”
She turned to look at him, neutral expression, for a few seconds, then left. Moments later a groan ripped from his chest, face buried in his palms.
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endcrman · 6 months ago
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Allostasis
(Chapter 4)
As a general rule of thumb, Grian doesn’t do public servers for a multitude of reasons. This one hadn’t even made it onto the list.
TW for PTSD symptoms, Self-Neglect, and minor Disordered Eating (All of these very minor in this chapter)
Read the whole fic here. (Here for Ao3/mobile.)
-
Getting back into the swing of things was easier said than done, Grian quickly found out. Nobody expected him to be normal again immediately, nobody except for himself, which was enough of a stressor he didn’t need.
He wasn’t prepared for the effort it took him to not just start wallowing in bed again, every morning began with a fight to get himself out of bed. Most days he managed, others he needed a little help. He tried not to think about how when he wasn’t out in a couple hours, somebody was flying by and checking in on him, he tried not to think about how much work he was being for everyone else.
He didn't like being work, he didn't like being an issue, even if everyone insisted he wasn't, he knew better.
He knew if it weren't for the week he spent in bed by himself, he wouldn't be receiving so many gifted meals. “Leftovers” he was told they were, as if anyone had leftovers in this server, he was being coddled; but damn if it wasn't the best he'd eaten in months, even with the guilt that piled on with every meal.
When he could, he threw himself into his own work, be it fishing, building, or being harassed by his friends at the permit office. It helped him feel normal again, being able to pretend nothing had been wrong in the first place.
“Hey Grian!”
Like he’d been doing just now.
“How’s the fishing going?” Gem had come up behind him without him noticing, which seemed to happen often while he was focused on the river. Not Gem specifically, just in general.
“Lots of junk,” he glanced over to see Gem without pulling his attention away from the bobber in the water for too long. “Plenty of fish though too, you hungry?”
She laughed a little, sitting on a nearby barrel. “I think I’m doing alright. What are you fishing for today anyways?”
What was he fishing for? He already caught his mending book a while ago, it was just a good mindless activity. He shrugged, reeling in the next bite, a cod. “Good to get me out and moving,” he admitted, casting again. “Keeps me from wasting away in bed all day.”
Gem was quiet for a bit, which made him nervous. “I’m proud of you,” she said after a while, which made him scrunch up his face.
“Ugh, no, no serious talk,” he said, laughing a little to try and lighten the mood. “Come be normal and fish with me. I need normal.”
“Okay, okay,” she laughed right back, getting off the barrel to join him on the dock, sitting down to dip her feet in the water as she rummaged around for her own rod. “Let’s be normal together, whatever that is.”
“Normal for us,” Grian reiterated, soon realizing just how much his own feet were starting to hurt, just how long had he been out here? Eventually he was joining Gem, sitting cross-legged next to her. “So what’s your angle here?”
“My angle,” Gem repeated, reeling in and casting out again before she continued. “Why do I need an angle? Can’t I just want to hang out with my fishing buddy?”
“Nobody wants to just hang out with me right now,” Grian realized how bad that sounded as soon as it came out of his mouth, wincing. “I mean- that’s not-”
“I get it,” Gem interrupted him, and he let out a relieved sigh at not having to explain himself. “I’m not here to mother hen you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just missed you.”
“Thank you,” he mumbled, watching as his bobber sank beneath the water, too distracted to pull it back. “You wouldn't believe all the attention I'm getting right now, it's embarrassing.”
Another successful catch and cast from Gem. “We all feel a little guilty for not noticing sooner,” she explained, keeping her own gaze focused on the water. “I can't speak for everyone, of course, but we're trying to make up for it, I think.”
“We're veering off into serious territory again, Gem,” Grian warned, though he did nothing to stop it, hypocritical as he was. “Don't feel guilty, okay? It's not your fault, it's not anybody's fault.” Just his own. 
She barked a laugh at that, finally tearing her eyes away from the water again. “Easier said than done, but I'll try. You'll just have to convince everyone else now. You know Mumbo's worked himself up into a mess about all this, right?”
He grimaced, reeling in his empty line to set the rod aside, laying back on the dock to look up at the sky. Yeah, he knew. “I'm fine now, obviously. He knows he can just come talk to me, instead of sending you to do it.”
“Hey! I came here of my own volition!” Gem scoffed, sounding teasingly offended. “My ulterior motive is totally different from whatever he's got going on.”
Grian quirked a brow, turning his head to look at Gem again, who had a grin on her face now. “Ulterior motive, you say?”
“Well…” She drawled, reeling in another catch before setting her rod aside as well. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she finally looked back over at him. “You didn't hear it from me, but I think my little snail friend has been missing her usual company as well.”
It was almost embarrassing, how quickly he sat up at the mere mention of mischief. “Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. I could probably pass the message along,” he hummed, resting his chin on his hand as if deep in thought. That didn't last long though, soon enough he had a grin that matched Gem's, far too excited at the prospect to play coy. “I wonder if they’d like to see just how much Scar’s train has grown since the last time they visited.”
Gem threw her head back and laughed, scrambling to her feet. “I’m sure that’d be fantastic enrichment for them, we should see what they think.”
Grian followed her up, groaning as he was standing again on his own aching feet, but he was too excited to complain, adrenaline already pumping through his veins. “I bet I can beat you there,” he challenged, darting off before Gem could even react and cackling when she finally did shout out behind him.
He could almost hear her footsteps in the grass behind him, her own laughter quiet compared to the wind whipping past his ears as he picked up speed. Scar’s build wasn’t too far from his dock, thankfully, but he could already feel his lungs aching. He yelped as he tripped, just about falling head over heels as he rolled the last couple of feet, sprawled out on the grass as the world spun around him.
“Grian!” Gem sounded worried, and her steps slowed down as she stopped next to him, looking down from above. “Are you okay?”
He blinked, the world finally settling around him, then he cackled again and the worried look slid right off of Gem's face. “Never better!” He wheezed, starting to push himself up. Once he was sitting and catching his breath, he fluffed up his wings for a second so the feathers would lay flat again, slightly askew from his tumble. He was sure he looked like a mess in other ways too, grass stains on his knees and elbows, wild-eyed and flushed, but he couldn't bring himself to care, laughing again as Gem offered a hand to help haul him up on his feet once more.
Hearing Gem's laughter in return, he felt lighter than he had in a long time. “You are ridiculous,” she scolded, snickering regardless. “If that was a fair race I totally would have beat you.”
“Pfft, what? That was absolutely fair,” he bluffed, crossing his arms, though the look Gem gave him had him laughing yet again. “Okay. Okay, next time it'll be fair. Snails now?”
There was a pause, Gem narrowing her gaze as she crossed her own arms, but soon enough her grin was breaking through once more. “Alright, snails now.”
The two of them definitely didn't do anything but supervise as the snails did their work, eager to harass Scar and his build yet again. It really was a beautiful train so far, Grian almost felt guilty setting loose base-eating snails on it. Almost. They were small enough that the damage was barely there, just enough to be annoying, which was always his goal.
He and Gem were giggling again when they finally parted ways for the evening, prank left behind for Scar to find later, depending on when he decided to return home. Grian had his own goal now, the time with Gem making him realize just how much he missed his other friends too. Even when he was actively trying to take care of himself he was isolating and he hadn't even realized it. What else was he doing wrong?
Instead of dwelling, he found himself outside of Mumbo's base, the Mothball or whatever— surely he could come up with a better name than that, right? Cupping his hands around his mouth, he realized how helpful a horn would be in this situation. “Hey! Mumbo!”
Mumbo’s face looking through the barred windows startled him, he was almost expecting to have to go on a server-wide search he didn’t think he had the energy for. “Grian?” His eyes widened, and Grian could see his mustache curl into a smile even from this distance. “Hang on a moment, I’ll be right down!” And he disappeared again.
Grian had to stifle his laughter as Mumbo all but fell out of the hanging base, a hand clamped over his mouth as he tried to keep quiet. He mostly had it under control by the time Mumbo was up on his feet again, suit rumpled and hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. “Hi Mumbo,” his amusement was obvious, even without the laughter.
Before anything else could happen he was swept up in Mumbo’s arms, the sudden action forcing a squeak out of him as his feet left the ground, kicking a little. “Mumboooo!” He wailed, the dam holding back his laughter bursting once again. He stumbled when he was finally allowed to touch the ground again, arms out to keep his balance.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mumbo didn’t sound too sorry, more for the inconvenience than what he’d actually done, mirroring Grian’s smile with laughter in his own voice. “I just- I’ve missed you is all,” his tone petered off into something a bit more nervous as he wrung his hands together, “Scar told me a bit of what happened.”
Those words were spine chilling, and Grian felt his face fall. “He did?”
“No details!” Mumbo quickly assured him, hands landing on his shoulders. “He- he told me you weren’t telling Joel either so-” Grian felt himself relaxing a little as Mumbo squeezed gently. “He told me that something… serious happened, when we went offworld. I thought that maybe- but I- you were-” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m sorry, Grian, truly.”
“Oh, Mumbo, no,” Grian tilted his own head forwards, bumping foreheads with his friend. “Is that why you haven’t come to see me yet?” He asked, trying to tease, “too busy feeling guilty?” Mumbo opened his mouth and closed it again, gaping a little like a fish, which meant his answer was yes, and he just didn’t want to admit it. Grian sighed, pulling away a little so Mumbo’s hands slid off his shoulders, taking one of them in his own. “Come on. We’re hanging out, no guilty feelings on my watch. Done and over with, show me what you’ve been working on.”
Mumbo perked up at that, like he always did when Grian asked about his redstone. “Well, you see, since I figured out how to get up into my base, I’ve started working on a way to categorize and organize my builds,” he said beginning to tug Grian along to show him just what he was working on, gesturing as he spoke, “if you break it down to it’s bare components it’s quite simple actually-”
Grian almost laughed at that— simple, as if— but instead he let Mumbo’s words wash over him, nodding and humming as expected. He might not have been picking up on too much of the specifics of the redstone, but it wasn’t like it was something he’d be using himself, the time spent with Mumbo was much more valuable than any redstone engineering.
“—and you’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
The words Mumbo was actually saying finally parsed in Grian’s brain, after however long of just listening without comprehending, and it made him squawk in offense. “I am too! You’ve got a- um- it’s like… a modified passcode kind of thing,” Grian bit his lower lip, waving his hand a little. “Right?”
Mumbo smiled so warmly at that, and the nod he got almost had him celebrating outwardly too. “Did you guess that, or were you actually listening to me?”
“A little bit of both,” Grian admitted with a snicker, shrugging slightly. “Sorry, I just like being here with you.” He didn’t mean for that to come out as mushy as it did, but Mumbo only looked even happier at the confession, so he didn’t mind quite too much. “Don't let it go to your head,” he tried to save.
“Aw, Grian,” Mumbo wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a side hug even as he pouted. “I like being here with you too.”
Grian huffed, reluctantly leaning into the other, his hesitance more for show than anything else. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he sighed, relaxing even more after a moment. He definitely didn’t stretch out a wing around Mumbo, and thankfully the other knew better than to comment on it, eventually continuing to explain the redstone in front of them; and Grian was actually starting to pick up on a couple of things. It wasn’t like he was clueless about redstone, he’d built a couple of contraptions at this point! He just hadn’t picked up quite the amount of knowledge Mumbo had yet.
“Are you getting tired?” Were the next couple of words directed at him, having Grian blinking his eyes open and lifting his head off of Mumbo’s shoulder.
“Huh?”
He heard Mumbo’s laugh, shaking him awake from his half-asleep daze, bringing him back to reality. “I asked if you were getting tired, but I think that’s answer enough. Let’s get you home, birdie.”
He scrunched up his face at the nickname, which just made Mumbo laugh again. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need to,” he protested, even as he allowed Mumbo to take the lead, undoubtedly leading him back to his base regardless.
“You’ve practically been sleepwalking the past half hour,” he sounded amused at least, rather than bothered or annoyed. “I appreciate the company, especially after so long, but you don’t need to stay up for my sake, G.”
“I can take care of myself, you know,” Grian huffed, falling in step with him, “nobody thinks so but I can, I’m a grown man damn it,” he wasn’t even mad at Mumbo specifically, he didn’t think he could be truly. “I shouldn’t have to be anybody’s responsibility.”
Mumbo was quiet, waiting for him to finish it seemed, because he only spoke when it seemed Grian wasn’t going to continue. “Nobody’s saying you aren’t, Grian,” his voice was purposefully even and patient, “but you’re going through a rough time, and we don’t want you to come out the other end hurt, or worse.”
He scowled a little at the thought, shaking his head. “But I’m fine now, I don’t need everyone babying me because they’re scared I’m going to- to-” He gestured with his hands, something he couldn’t describe. “-I don’t even know! But I’m not going to, I’m fine!” Even hanging out with Gem earlier, even though she had promised she wasn’t going to treat him like that, there was something unspoken in the air; and now with Mumbo too.
“Grian, I’m not trying to start an argument with you right now,” Mumbo rolled his eyes, Grian was sure of it, even if he couldn’t see it. He was being ridiculous after all. “Everybody here needs a bit of help sometimes, you just got unlucky enough that everyone else noticed, instead of just me or Pearl.”
“Scar and Joel and their blabbermouths,” Grian mumbled, kicking at the grass as they continued to walk.
“They mean well,” he was reminded.
“I know, that’s why it sucks that I can’t be mad at them,” he sighed, “everybody here means well. Bane of my existence, being cared for,” he snorted, even if Mumbo didn’t laugh with him that time.
“Grian…”
“I just wish you guys would tell me when I’m too much, I know I am sometimes,” he pouted, “I’ve been told before.” Mostly it was just when a prank went a little too far, and he had to help clean up and was told not to do it again. Which was just fine and totally fair, he just wished they’d do the same here.
“Grian, that’s not-”
“I wouldn’t get upset, even! I’d rather you guys tell me instead of working so hard to coddle me,” Grian cut him off. “Let me handle myself before I scare everyone away,” he sighed, voice dropping in volume as he crossed his arms tightly, almost hugging himself. “Sorry.”
Mumbo stopped walking, turning to face him again, and Grian couldn’t help but shrink even more under his gaze. “Grian…” Hands on his cheeks gently tilted his head up, forcing him to make eye contact as much as he was trying to avoid it. “Everyone’s trying to help because they want to, not because they feel like they have to. We like you, you’re our friend, and we hate seeing you hurt. I know you have a hard time accepting it, but you deserve it, okay? You’re not too much, and you’re not scaring anyone away.”
He wasn’t going to cry, he refused. He sniffled softly, looking away. “Okay.” Grian took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment. “... Thank you.”
“Any time, G.” Mumbo’s hand found his shoulder again, just a gentle pressure that soon slid off. “Will you be okay tonight, when you get home?” Alone remained unsaid, though implied.
He opened his eyes again, meeting Mumbo’s eyes on purpose now. “I think so, yeah. You could always check in on me tomorrow, make sure I’m not getting up to any trouble?”
That made Mumbo smile again, easing the growing tension. “You are known to get up to trouble, true. I suppose I better put it on my calendar.” 
Grian laughed, finally starting towards his base again, checking behind himself to make sure he was being followed. “Don’t lie to me, you don’t have a calendar.”
“I could! You don’t know that,” Mumbo protested, then after a moment or two he sighed, hanging his head. “No, you’re right. I don’t.”
“I know you,” Grian scolded, snickering softly, he almost didn’t notice as they finally made it to his base, sun setting in the distance. “... No more avoiding me, okay?”
“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Mumbo’s answer was immediate, then he looked a little guilty again. “No, I… I’m sorry. I’ll be over tomorrow, I promise.”
He smiled softly, nodding. “Good, I'll hold you to that,” he hummed, hesitating before giving Mumbo a quick hug, pulling away just as quickly. Mumbo had his own smile back, and Grian considered that a success. They split easily after that, Mumbo headed back to his base as Grian made his way up into his own.
Honestly, he was almost too excited to sleep. He found himself in his bed too easily, comfortable under the covers, but otherwise tossing and turning, thinking about tomorrow. It was a little ridiculous, he thought, they hadn't even made proper plans, but he couldn't help it, eager for things to be like they were again.
He was finally pulled out of his futile attempts at sleep by his comm going off, notification distinct from that 
samgladiator: hey. i know youre ignoring me and that's totally fine and i get it, i promise.
samgladiator: but ellen found out i had your comm address and basically begged me to let you know they say hi, lol. they said they miss you
Grian's stomach lurched, and he quickly hit the power again, turning off the screen. No, he wasn't thinking about this tonight. He took a deep breath, holding it in. He hadn’t spoken to Ellen in ages, he’d wager it had been over a decade even. They still thought about him?
He let out a slow breath, feeling his heartbeat slowing just a bit, he hadn’t even noticed how much it had sped up in the first place. He wasn’t going to freak out, he refused. Grian took another deep breath, setting his comm aside as he continued breathing deeply, laying back onto his bed.
Tomorrow. This was all a problem for tomorrow.
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eddiessidegirl · 2 years ago
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Hell Bent for Leather
Chapter 6
Masterlist: x
Summary: You’re just now learning about what your little brother has been up to over the years post earthquake, and that formerly thought to be dead people weren’t
Pairing: Eddie x Henderson!Reader
Reader is a plus size Female with female genitalia, she/her pronouns
Slight Vol 2 spoilers but this is a fix-it fic
Warnings: Smut 18+ only, swearing, fingering (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight mention of blood
Chapter word count: 2521
This chapter has been Beta read
MINORS DNI - 18+
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Several hours later.
The party had returned to the cabin, Hopper and Joyce had joined in behind them as they drove up the driveway. Everyone piled out of the cars, a somber look on their faces. The rain had dampened their moods down a little bit. They were unsuccessful in finding a gate. Erica was standing outside the door, waiting for them with a look of panic across her face. Lucas was the first one to notice. “Erica, what’s wrong? What happened?” He called to his sister, jogging towards her in concern.
“I didn’t know she’d left…. Y/N woke up and I… I thought she’d gone back to El’s room but when I went to check on her, she…she was gone.” The rest of the group was close behind Lucas. The rain had turned the ground into a sloppy mess with no traces of footprints anywhere.
“You guys left a traumatized person alone. With Sinclair’s little sister. As her guard?” Jim asked them, shock and awe laced his voice, which rose in tones until it was at a screaming level. Joyce placed a hand on his bicep, silently warning him to calm down. Shame flashed across the entire groups’ faces, Eddie’s most of all. He should have known better than to leave you alone after everything he’d gone through earlier in the year.
Everyone made their way inside to sit down around the coffee table. Mike was the first one to say anything. “El, can you look for her, the way you looked for Billy?” She nodded and they began setting up. It only took maybe seven minutes of searching. “All I see are trees directly around Y/N. She’s scared but that’s all I can see.”
“She could be anywhere!” Nancy said, her fingers gripping at Robin’s wrist, who did her best to calm the older Wheeler sibling. Her soothing fingers rubbed between Nancy’s shoulders. Behind them, the front door snapped shut which caused everyone to jump a foot in the air.
Eddie had taken off running. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to somebody else that he cared about. Dustin called after him, but it went ignored.
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He tripped over his own feet, over roots that dared to stick out of the ground. His white Reeboks slid across the ground and over mossy rocks. “Y/N! Please! Where are you?!” Eddie sprinted through the trees, rain pelting him through the leaves. Thirty minutes later, lungs burning as he turned sharply to run in another direction. His feet gave way, and he slid down an embankment. Pain shot through his tail bone, but he wasn’t giving up until he found you.
“Fuck! Ow.” Calling out your name again, he hobbled a few more feet before stopping for a small break. There was a stitch in his left side. He couldn’t help but curse himself for skipping out on gym class so much. He was going to need a short break to work the knots out. He began walking again a few moments later, checking behind logs as he screamed out for you. If you had come this way, you were probably hurt, scared, and worried. There was no way with the rain that you would have been able to climb back up that wall of sludge.
The sun was setting. Soon it would be dark, and Eddie didn’t know if there were predators in the Hawkins woods. He hoped to God that there weren’t any. So much time had passed by now, that there was no way of knowing how long. And for how long you’d been out here. It had begun raining harder, making the ground even slicker with piles of mud and pools of water everywhere. Still, he continued to call your name, desperate to find you.
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You’d run for hours yourself, calling out for everyone but you had no idea where they were. Or how far you were away from them or the cabin. Every sound in the forest set you off, small screams left your lips every so often. You even frightened a deer by accident.
Eventually you tucked yourself in a ditch under a log as best as you could, trembling slightly. The ground was far from dry, your arms and legs were caked in mud. Blood seeped from a wound on your arm where you had fallen and gotten caught on a sharp rock. The forest taking its pound of flesh for your trouble. You were so physically exhausted, your plush body was tired from hours of wandering in circles and from pain, despite it being used to being active in your everyday life.
There were noises all around you, owls, crickets, toads, and even the wind along with the rain as it hit hard against every surface around you. In the distance, a voice was being carried towards you in the wind. Your heart rate picked up. Was this..that Vecna coming to get you? A broken sob escaped your throat. Body shivering, both with cold and fear, you managed to pull yourself as far back as you could go.
“Y/N?!” It was Eddie. Or at least, it sounded like him. How could you be sure? Nothing you knew was real now. Things that should be legends and fairy tales had turned out to be quite real. Footsteps began approaching, they were rushed, darting in every direction. Not until he jogged past your hidden location did you know for sure.
Wordlessly, your mouth opened. You wanted to call out. Using your good hand to push yourself forward, it came out softly, almost like a whisper. “Eddie!”
Eddie almost missed it, had he been a few feet further, it would have fallen on deaf ears. Turning his head to the right, he caught sight of you, dirty, crouched, and frightened. “...Y/n.” His feet bolted towards you, dropping to his knees when you were mere inches away.
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His arms embraced you, whispering into your ear about how worried he was and how he was scared something bad had happened to you. Shaking, your own arms weaved their way around Eddie’s broad shoulders. You whispered your own fears back to him, tears bubbling over as your face buried into his neck. Inhaling deeply, the scent of Eddie engulfed you. Safety, that’s what he smelled like.
“Baby, you can’t go running off into the woods like that… what… what if something had happened to you?” Eddie’s voice was thick with emotions, his mahogany eyes staring down into your own. Apologies flowed from your mouth. You hadn’t meant to go so far away but you had gotten turned around and everything looked the same.
His lips pressed into the nape of your neck, and then your cheeks before landing on your own lips. It wasn’t the soft kiss of the night prior. This one was more wanting, hurried, fueled by fear and relief. Eddie pulled you close, one of his calloused hands gripping the back of your neck.
It happened quickly, first his denim vest and jacket were removed, then your shirt. The kiss broke only for a moment. Eddie unclasped your bra, and your cold fingers struggled briefly with pulling his shirt off him, a soft whine escaped his lips when the fabric came in between you. When the offending garment had been shorn, your arms wrapped around his neck. Eddie urged you to lift your hips and placed the jackets beneath you.
Torsos pressed against one another, his hands moved one back to holding your head and neck, the other came around to your nest and hovered over your breast. “This okay?” He asked you, you nodded. “Words please?”
“Yes.” With the singular word, he was satisfied and palmed the flesh, pulling gently at your nipple, tweaking it until it hardened. Your hips rolled up towards his, while Eddie’s pressed against the crotch of your pants. You could feel his cock tenting his pants, breath puffed between your mouths begging for more of each other. His head dipped down to capture the tender skin of your breast and nipple, grazing it with his teeth, his tongue flicking over and over until the pink stood tall.
The friction of your clothes wasn’t enough, you slid your hands down to his jeans that had become deeply sodden from the mud. Your fingers cold and hands shaking, they fumbled with his belt and then with the button-fly. Eddie could feel your frustration growing with struggling to get them down and assisted you in shimmying the denim down, his boxers caught in the mix and joined them around his knees.
A soft chuckle came from the back of his throat. “S’not fair that I’m missing more clothes than you are…” Laying you back, he pulled on the Lycra pants you had on. With how soaked you were from the rain; you hadn’t noticed how wet your panties had become until his fingers hooked under the waist band and removed them as well.
With how preoccupied you’d been, you hadn’t noticed his cock standing at attention, laying against his stomach. Heat pooled in your stomach. While you were staring, his fingers began methodically rubbing circles around your clit, his middle finger dipping into your pussy. “You good, Y/N?” He asked, slowly pumping his finger in and out as he readied you for the much larger appendage that awaited you. A choked reply of affirmation graces his ears.
Eddie could’ve came from just watching the pleasure etched across your face but he was desperate to be inside you. His fingers drenched in your slick juices; his eyes glazed over with desire for you. “P-please…Eddie…I need you now.” You pleaded with him; your pupils blown from how turned on you were.
He didn’t need to be asked twice as Eddie sunk into your cunt. “Shit, Y/N, you feel so good around my cock...” He whispered into your ear, having had brought his head up by yours. Moving slowly at first as he allowed your body to adjust to his girth, he began to move faster. He tilted his hips in just the right angle to hit the bundle of nerves that was your g-spot.
As he thrust into you, your legs wrapped around his while your mouth recaptured his lips. The world around you dissolving as you got closer and closer to coming. Moaning into his mouth, Eddie pulled away for a brief second. “Come for me, sweetheart, that’s it… it’s okay. Let go.”
His mouth latched onto your neck as you came undone, coating his cock as you came. You’d tightened around him and the feeling of your walls choking his dick had become too much. He didn’t even have time to consciously pull out. Eddie’s hips began stuttering as the thick hot ropes of cum spilled inside your cunt. Both of your moans mixed in the quiet forest. Sweat mixed with the rain coated your skins, hearts beating erratically.
Dropping your head to his shoulder, your eyes closed as you allowed your breath to even out. Eddie did the same, nuzzling into your clavicle, his fingers playing softly with your stomach in a comforting way. Sliding out with a soft pop as his cock softened. “I’m sorry… I didn’t have time to…” He started but you shook your head and smiled up at Eddie. It was fine and you’d take care of it later.
“Think they’re looking for us?” You asked after a couple of minutes, eliciting a soft laugh from Eddie. “More than likely. They probably sent Hopper out to find us…”
You sighed deeply. “Hand me my clothes. We may as well get dressed.” Eddie groaned but passed it over, everything was muddy as all hell. Your bra had thankfully only gotten wet since it had been tossed onto the log. The two of you got dressed in silence, both looking ridiculous, covered in mud and leaves in your hair. He passed you his denim vest, without the sleeves it at least provided a bit of warmth to your back. He slid the leather jacket on himself.
Taking his outstretched hand, he led you back towards the way he’d come looking for you.
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It didn’t take too much longer for the both of you to find a light slope to climb, his fingers laced with yours as he guided you up the hill. The moment you crested the hill, bright lights could be seen nearby. They looked like a couple of flashlights. A light flush lit your face, you knew you both looked a mess, and it was obvious that you’d done more than simply fall in the mud.
Voices called out you, Steve and Hopper. “Oh boy…here we go.” Eddie muttered, puling you closer to him as you trekked closer to them. “We’re here!” He called out to them. The light beams bouncing as they ran towards you.
“What the hell, Y/N, why’d you—” Steve started to ask you a question and faltered when he saw the state the two of you were in. His eyebrows lifted, his eyes looking between each of you. “Shut it, Harrington, just help us find the way back. It’s fucking cold.” Hopper looked at Eddie sharply. “Sorry sir, caught in the moment.” They led you back to the truck which was about two miles away.
Both of you were wrapped in blankets from the storage box in the bed of the car, the ride silent. Hopper was mad that a: you both took off without thinking and b: that you’d dirtied his car seats that he had just cleaned. Steve was throwing glances at Eddie, trying to silently communicate to him about what had happened out in the woods. Eddie only shook his head, not wanting to talk about it. Even though it was painted on your faces, it was still between the two of you.
The truck bumped over the road; your head laid on Eddie’s shoulder. You were physically and mentally exhausted. He let you drift off to sleep, he would wake you up when Hopper got you all back to headquarters.
PLEASE SUPPORT WRITERS ON TUMBLR BY COMMENTING, REBLOGGING AND LIKING; ITS HOW WE FIND NEW READERS!🖤
Tag list: @alicefallsintotherabbithole | @tssf-imagines | @eponaartemisa
Thank you to @hargroveharlot for pushing my to post this even though I’m nervous as hell to post this
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aliennopossumm · 3 years ago
Text
It Will Come Back
Happy [late-] birthday @andromedaspace! I hope you’re having a good week!
Pairing: mutual pining Analogical, romantic Analogical at the end Warnings: homophobia, hurt/comfort, quite a lot of cursing, kissing, so much awkward silence Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Berry, Roman Smith Character notes: autistic nonbinary Logan [they/them], autistic trans Virgil [xe/xem], genderqueer acearo Roman [he/prince]
Fic summary: Logan had known Virgil for a while now, but when they start getting gay thoughts, they consult Roman to help
2,921 words 16,543 characters
you can also read this over on AO3
It had been about three or so months since Logan had met Virgil. Since their original run in with each other, the two had been hanging out quite a bit, not restricting themselves to just the forest they first met each other in. Unfortunately for Logan, xe did not go to their highschool, but was rather homeschooled; this didn't stop Virgil in any way, however. After a week of knowing them, xe started to wait outside the school gates for Logan, making a habit of walking them home. This day was not any different, Logan making their way out of a particularly uninteresting English lesson - it did lift their mood knowing Virgil would be waiting. They were one of the last one's out, looking around for xem. Anxiousness started to consume them, unable to see xem outside - did xe just leave them?
They frowned slightly, taking their phone out of their pocket to see if they had any message. Logan jumped a little when everything went dark, panicking slightly, before realising somebody was just covering their eyes.
"Guess whoooo?" Logan relaxed at Virgil's voice, gently removing xyr hands with their own.
"Hey Vee," they smiled, turning around, "I thought you had left."
"Nope, just this guy was talking to me. Think he was British?"
Logan's eyes widened slightly in realisation, "Roman?"
"Yeah! Prin was asking me about you," Virgil took Logan's hand, as xe usually did when they walked home together, "he sorta... gave me a shovel talk? The whole 'hurt them and I'll hurt you' schtick."
A whine escaped Logan's mouth, "I told prin specifically to not bother you. I'm sorry, Virge"
"Hey, it's okay, it's cute how much your friends care about you," xe chuckled softly, checking both directions before leading the two across the road. Logan blushed a small bit at the comment, going to speak again. They were cut off by a yell from a passing car, making the pair turn their heads. The engine was so loud, Logan couldn't make out what whoever was in the car said exactly, but they could make out the last few words.
"What are you, gay!?"
It was said with so much bitterness, so much hatred. Several conflicting feelings started to consume Logan - anger, sadness, a small tang of guilt. They looked at Virgil with a hard to make out expression, their mouth unable to mutter anything, but their mind screaming. It told them to run in the opposite direction, to yell at their friend, to apologise, to kiss Virgil. Why did they want to kiss Virgil?
A few seconds passed, both of them clearly uneasy. Virgil shifted xyr hand slightly, making it obvious xe was considering letting go. Xe spoke after a few more seconds of silence, "I'm sorry, L."
"'s fine," Logan refused to look at Virgil, rather staring at the interlocked hand. As much as their brain begged and screamed for them to let go, they didn't. It was nice, they felt loved for once.
The older one nodded, swallowing dryly and starting to walk again, "right, right. Let's just get you home, hm?" No more words were able to escape Logan's mouth, just nodding and gingerly following xem. To their mutual dislike, the next ten or so minutes were spent in complete awkward silence. Both opened their mouths to speak at a few points, but not a word was said from either of them. Neither pointed this out, eventually reaching the door of Logan's block of apartments.
The building seemed to loom over the pair of friends now, making Logan feel as if they were shrinking into a miniscule room with just Virgil, forced to be close. It was an uncomfortably claustrophobic feeling.
"I'll uh, I'll get going," Virgil finally said, "see ya."
"Bye," Logan mumbled, quickly letting go of xyr hand and making their way upstairs without looking back at xem. On most occasions, Virgil would walk them to the front door, and xe would then call them on xyr way back to their own home. None of this happened though, sulking their way into the kitchen. Anxiously, Logan peered out the window to see where Virgil was - it did make them feel a bit creepy for doing so, but they were worried. Xe ended up making uncomfortable eye contact, the two immediately breaking it once they had noticed. As if their world was falling to pieces, which is what it felt like, Logan poured themselves a glass of cold water and hurriedly walked to their own room. It was quiet. Virgil wasn't being called, their parents weren't home, the AC was turned off. It was quiet.
Too quiet. Logan hated it, reaching their room and shutting the door with their foot. Everything in their brain yelled at them to just slump onto the floor with their back against the door, but they decided against it. They hung up their bag, walking to their bed and taking several long gulps of water. It was cold, numbing their teeth slightly. Iciness rushed to their brain, resulting in a groan and a small pampth where they fell onto their back and shifted so they laid on their pillow. Everything was fine until those kids. They harshly blinked a few times before staring at the green stars, planets and moon that were stuck above their bed, reaching out gently. Logan "grabbed" the moon next to the Earth with their hand, closing it into a fist as they were holding it. Nothing else changed, the room staying still. It couldn't have been more than a minute before their arm started to become tired, letting out a built up sigh and letting their arm flop next to them on the bed. The moon reminded them of Virgil. In an, only somewhat successful, attempt of getting their mind off their friend, they started to count the plastic stars.
Twenty six... twenty seven... twenty nine- wait, shit, they messed up. Logan groaned loudly, rolling onto their side. Nothing could make them stop thinking. With thoughts still buzzing, they wiggled out of the dark jacket they were wearing, taking their phone into their hand before throwing the clothing onto the floor. On most days, they'd be extremely strict with themself about keeping their room clean, but at this point, they had no energy to care. The phone was unlocked, showing the background - a selfie Virgil took of xem and Logan. It had a corny SnapChat filter on top of it, a black bar at the bottom with white text reading 'my nerd <4'. Great, now they were overthinking if there was any hidden context to that. Yet again, they sighed, opening their contacts and scrolling to the bottom. Logan's thumb hovered over the contact name 'Virge<3' for several seconds, before scrolling up an embarrassing amount from the V contact page to the R contact page. They hesitantly clicked on the contact name 'Ro 👑’, sitting up and leaning their back against their headboard.
Ring ring. "C'mon, Ro, pick up," Logan mumbled impatiently," ring ring, "c'mon, please..." ring ri-
"Yellow?" Roman's voice came from the other side, the soft sound of Mitski in the background.
"Roman, I think I've fucked up."
"You, fucking up?" Roman was heard sitting up, "that's a change. What happened?"
"Virge and I were walking from school and... and it was fine, until this group of kids sped past us in their shitty car. They said some shit and we ended up walking home in silence," they groaned loudly, "xe didn't even call me after xe left, just... walked away."
"What did they say, Lo?" The younger's voice was much softer now, the background music turned down so prin could listen better.
"We were holding hands and they-" Logan swallowed dryly, slipping down the headboard, "they yelled 'what are you, gay?'. I can't stop thinking about it."
"They just saw two masculine presenting people being close friends and jumped to conclusions. Plus, you two are gay, just not for eachother."
"I- I guess, but now I'm just confused," Logan laid back down onto their back, "my brain was yelling at me to do so many things at once. To run away, or yell at xem, or kiss xem, or say sorry-"
"To kiss xem?" Roman repeated, a chuckle at the bottom of his throat, "I think you may be slightly gay for xem."
Logan groaned, "I'm not." They looked away from the direction of the phone, despite the fact Roman could not see them. "At least, I don't think I am," they mumbled the last part quietly.
"Logan," prin was heard shuffling on his bed, sounding as though he sat up, "what made you concerned? What those assholes said, or the small chance you may be in love with Vee?"
They didn't reply for a few seconds, taking several deep breaths. Logan shifted uncomfortably, "I actually... think it's more of the second option. I... the other thoughts didn't even really bother me, because I know I wouldn't run from xem or yell at them. But I know I would happily apologise and-" they bit their lip, "and I would... happily... kiss xem..."
"I'm glad I gave xem the shovel talk now," Roman chuckled softly, "listen, do you want my shitty aro advice, or do you want to suffer with whatever your feelings are?"
Logan let out another mix of a sigh and a groan, "sure. Something is better than nothing."
"Tell xem - listen, before you go on a rant about how you can't," Logan shut their mouth which they did open in protest, "tell xem how you feel. This isn't the first time you've had these gay feelings for xem, is it? You like holding xyr hand, spending time with xem. Hell, you've called the time you spent in the forest with xem 'dates'! On multiple occasions. It's clear you like xem - it may not be romantic, but you like xem so fucking much. You were both outcasts, weren't you?"
Logan took a shaky breath, processing all the information they were just told. They blinked once or twice, "yeah, neither of us really had... many friends when we met. Virge was homeschooled and I only really knew you and Patt at this point."
"You have a genuine connection, everyone can tell that - even the fucks who taunted you. You love xem, and xe loves you. Your feelings are the reason you enjoy being physical, loving to just be in each other's company; why you had such a knee-jerk reaction to the thought of kissing xem. You probably had similar thoughts before, haven’t you?" Roman silently waited for them to reply.
Thinking back through the month's they had known xem, Logan realised the answer was yes. They mumbled the response quietly, and prin did hear it.
"But you're thinking so hard into this because for once, somebody else recognised this. Those kids... they mocked you for potentionally liking xem, they made you realise that you may actually be gay for xem. You've always seen xem as attractive, haven't you?"
Their world seemed as if it was shrinking in on themselves at the realisation, but was able to squeeze out a few more words, "yeah, since... since the moment we met. Even though xe was teasing me when I first saw xem, it... I appreciated how attractive they were. Fuck."
"You alright?" Roman's tone shifted - it was no longer their serious and lecture-esque voice, but soft. It sounded, as Logan liked to put it due to being an only child, like a protective brother's voice.
"I think so? Thank you, Ro, so much," Logan let out a small, happy noise, "I should text xem."
"Yeah," it was almost as if Roman's smile could be felt from the other side of the phone, "yeah, you should. Good luck, Lo-gay."
"I told you to stop calling me that," they ruffled their own hair, a habit they had picked up from both Virgil and Roman, "thank you, Ro, really. Bye, I love you."
"I love you toooo~” Roman sang the last word, "farewell!"
Once the call was over, the room went back into being too quiet, too cold. They lowered the phone from their ear, looking at the screen; underneath Roman's contact name was the call time - almost fifteen minutes. That conversation lasted for that long? Attempting to ignore everything else that was currently happening at the moment, pressing the back button and scrolling to Virgil's name in their contacts. At first, they were going to just call xem to ask, but opted to just texting. Logan bit their lip, anxiously writing out a message in an attempt to follow Roman's advice. Triple checking the message, though it felt as they read it back over a thousand times, they finally hit send on the message.
'Hey, Virge, I'm so incredibly sorry for the walk home today. I just froze up. Can we meet up at the place we first met to talk?'
They closed the texting window, looking back up to the ceiling stars. Nothing in them was really expecting Virgil to be that happy to talk to them again after what had happened, so you could imagine their shock when the phone almost immediately chimed. Logan pulled the phone to their face, clicking on the notification from Virgil, to their surprise.
'itz alr , l , promis . not mad ! u mean by the lake? cus if so , i ' ll see you ther in uhhh'
'10 minz?'
As usual, xyr typing ended up comforting Logan. They smiled sadly at the message, starting to sit up as they wrote a reply.
'Yeah, the lake! I’ll see you soon, Virge?'
‘ yea yea ‘
'<4'
For no particular reason, the difference of how Virgil typed emoticon hearts made Logan feel all bubbly inside. A green bag was slung over their shoulder - the bag which contained all their forest-exploring gear. Anxiety still consumed them for the most part, but knowledge that Virgil was safe and wasn't mad soothed them. Knowledge seemed to comfort them often, slipping on some black Doc Martens. The phone was gently placed into their pocket, leaning down and lacing the shoes up. They took a large, deep breath and left the apartment, humming to themselves to divert any nervous thoughts from their mind. Warmth covered their body almost as soon as they stepped outside their block of apartments, making their way towards the forest.
It didn't take long for them to reach the still lake, noticing Virgil sitting in the same place where they first met. Logan swallowed dryly, sitting opposite to them and leaning against their favourite moss-covered rock. They didn't want to have the first word.
"I'm sorry, L," Virgil repeated their same statement from a while earlier, "I should've broken the silence and said something more."
"It's okay, it wasn't either of our faults. I-" they refused to make eye contact, "I spoke to Roman about what happened."
"What did he say?" xe gently took one of their hands. Logan didn't reply, not holding Virgil's hand but not pulling away either. "L, what did he say?"
"He comforted me and made... made me think about shit."
"Think about what?" Virgil's voice was gentle, rubbing xyr thumb over Logan's hand gently.
"I wanted to kiss you."
"Oh."
"Sorry," it was the only thing they could think of. Truthfully they didn't know why they were apologising, or what exactly for. Virgil didn't visibly look uncomfortable. Were they apologising for having queer thoughts?
"Don't be," xe never stopped stroking their hand, looking down at it and processing what xe was just told.
"I still want to kiss you."
"Oh," Virgil repeated, but still didn't stop. Nothing Logan did could make xem stop attempting to calm them. "I, just- why?"
"Because you're... you. You're fun, and kind, and cheer me up," Logan's voice slowly grew more confident with each word, "you always make me smile and I enjoy the time we spend together. You're pretty, and a bit sarcastic, but still so loving and- and you're Virgil. I love you because you are Virgil."
Xe didn't reply for several seconds; Logan held their breath, going to apologise before getting cut off by xem.
"Kiss me, idiot."
Logan flushed slightly, the stars in their eyes. They gently leaned closer, softly kissing xem. It wasn't the best kiss in the world - neither of them having that much experience. Even so, it was tender and love-filled, Virgil pulling back after a few seconds. Xe breathed out deeply, chuckling when xe noticed how Logan now had slightly black stained lips.
"Shit, I-" xe smiled, "kissing before marriage?" Virgil gently smudged the transferred lipstick around their mouth with a thumb. "So..."
"I liked that," said Logan, leaning into xyr hand, "I like you."
"So much you want me as your boyfriend?" It was slightly jokingly, but truthfully it was the only thing xe wanted at that moment.
Logan paused, kissing xyr nose, "please?"
Virgil chuckled, peppering kisses on their face, "of course. I love you, nerd."
"I love you too."
Logan leaned their head on xyr shoulder, smiling widely. They'll be okay.
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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago
Text
Sweet dreams
Remus Lupin x reader
Words: 5700
Warnings: nightmares 
A/N: Here it finally is! I got asked to do a Remus fic a while ago and I had already started this, but I was struggling with the end. It’s a non-wizard story, so not canon at all. I hope you like it, my loves!
--------------------------------------------------------------
A night out with the lads. Nothing special, it is a monthly event. Every month, the boys would go out for the night, just the four of them. That leaves you with the house to yourself. You usually take a bath, do a face-mask and watch some Netflix. Most of the time a romantic comedy, that the boys never want to watch.
So there is nothing different this night. You said goodbye to the boys, took a bath and now you are sitting in the living room about to start your film when your phone starts to ring. You look around; you hear your phone, but you don’t know where you left it. You walk around in the room, picking up pillows. The phone keeps on ringing.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming…’ you mutter. With the last pillow on the couch that you lift up, you find your phone. ‘Hello?’
‘(Y/N)? IS THAT YOU?’ James screams through the phone. He is drunk. Already. Though, honestly, it doesn’t surprise you. You have gone out with the boys too. James and Peter are always the first ones to get drunk. You and Sirius follow and on a rare occasion Remus gets drunk too. But that almost never happens.
‘Yes, James, it is me. You called me, who else did you expect?’ you ask sarcastically. In the background you hear music playing. ‘Where are you?’
‘PETER FOUND A CLUB SOMEWHERE NEAR OUR USUAL BAR!’
‘HEY (Y/N)!’ Peter yells. You laugh out loud. You cannot imagine them in a club, dancing. Or actually you can, but it just looks very weird in your mind.
‘Hi Peter. So are you guys having a good time?’
‘(Y/N), it is AMAZING! Even Remus is drunk!’
‘Remus?’ You are shocked, it is not like Remus to get drunk. Especially when there is not really something to celebrate. ‘Well, have fun. Don’t stay out too late!’
‘Can’t promise anything!’ Sirius says and you roll your eyes.
‘Alright, love you,’ you say and hang up the phone.
- -- -
Remus is standing on one side of the space, watching his friends dance with people they have never met before. He smiles to himself as he sees Peter shaking his hips. The music is thumping in Remus’ ears. It’s a song he has never heard before. He finishes his drink and places his glass on a table nearby. He sits down on a chair and nods at James, who is waving at him. At that the boys walk up to Remus and sit on the other chairs around the table. Peter is panting and sweating.
‘Another round?’ he asks and walks to the bar.
After a few minutes Peter returns with four beers and eight shots. Remus starts to laugh.
‘Are you trying to get us drunk, Pete?’ he asks, but takes a sip of the beer nevertheless. Remus knows he is already drunk. His sight is blurry and his head is pounding.
‘So Remus, how are things with (Y/N)?’ James asks. Remus stares at him. It takes a while for he realises what James has said.
‘What do you mean?’ Remus asks, but he knows what James means. Ever since Remus has told his friends about his crush on you, James has been asking twice a day if Remus has done anything about it.
‘Oh, come on! What about earlier this night? The way she was looking at you?’ Sirius says and he knocks back his shot.
Remus blushes and thinks back. When he and the boys left you were standing at the door waving goodbye. Peter and James were already at the sidewalk in front of the house, Sirius was still inside and Remus was halfway between the sidewalk and the front door. As he was nervously playing with his keys, his gaze fell over your face. You were watching him with a small smile. Remus smiled back and felt he was getting red, but he kept looking at you. And you were staring back at him. The contact broke when Sirius showed up and pulled Remus along with him.
‘That was nothing,’ Remus mumbles and takes a shot. He feels it burning in his throat.
‘You should do something about it! She into you, man!’ James says. Remus shakes his head. You don’t like him, why would you? You are way too perfect for him and he would just give you problems you never asked for.
- -- -
The front door opens and you hear the boys come in. Lying in bed you look at your phone. They stayed out longer than usual; normally they come home around two o’clock, but now it is half past three. They stumble up the stairs and you hear soft laughter. Doors open and close, you hear water running and the toilet flushing. You’re pretty sure Peter walks into a closed door and James laughs. After a while all the doors shut and it gets silent in the house. You close your eyes again and drift off.
A loud thump wakes you up. You open your eyes and listen where the sound came from. You hear a soft sound coming from Remus’ bedroom next to yours. You sigh and try to relax again. Remus probably dropped his book. It’s not a rare sound, Remus likes to read when he can’t sleep. You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep. But you are awake now. Sighing you get up and walk in the dark to your door. You open it and cautious not to wake anyone up, you walk to the bathroom.
When you walk back to your room, there is still noise coming from Remus’ room. Instead of going back to bed you open Remus’ door. You hear Remus moving in his bed. It is hot in the room. Not the someone-left-the-heater-on-warm, but a damp warm. You walk over to Remus and sit down on his bed. He keeps moving and squirming. Soft, moaning sounds are coming from his mouth and you understand what is going on. Remus is having a nightmare. He has them often, so you know what to do.
You carefully place your hand on Remus’ forehead. His head is warm and sweaty. With your other hand you lift the sheets of him and place them lower, at his hips. You take both your hands and try to take Remus’ sweater off. It works and you let your hands slide over Remus’ bare chest. You feel his heartbeat lowering.
Fresh air fills the room when you open the window. You take a deep breath and leave the curtains half open. When you turn back to Remus, expecting him to sleep peacefully, you notice that even now, with the window open and his sweater off, he is still sweating and moving restless. You sit back down on the side of his bed and try to take his hands. But he pulls them back with such great power you fall off the bed. You feel you’re getting desperate. Normally you are able to calm Remus down but nothing seems to work now.
Desperately you try to wake Remus up by talking to him. ‘Remus, it’s me, (Y/N). Can you hear me? Calm down honey, you’re home.’ But no matter what you say, Remus doesn’t wake up. ‘Remus, please, wake up. I’m here, you are safe, nobody is trying to hurt you.’
Hopelessly you run your hand through Remus’ hair. You hate seeing him like this. The boy you love in pain and there is nothing you can do about it. You wish you could hold him forever, tell him you love him every second of the day. You want to be his, but you know Remus doesn’t think of you that way, he sees you as a sister, at best.
You drop your head and stare at Remus’ naked chest. Your eyes have gotten used to the dark and you can see the scars on his skin. You get tears in your eyes when you see them. He got them at a terrible accident when he was younger. He never told you the full story about what happened, but you know it involved a drunken uncle and a glass door. James has told you about it. Remus was younger when he run into a glass door getting away from his uncle. But even James could not explain how that would lead to so much scars.
Remus hates it when someone looks at his scars. That’s why he always wears sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. But you have seen the scars countless times. You know the pattern they make on his body. You know Remus thinks no one will ever love him because of them, because he is messed up. A million times you have stood on the edge of telling him you do love him. Him and his scars. You don’t care what other people think of him. You know you love him and that is enough. For you, not for him.
You are losing more hope every second. Remus moans in pain and the tears are on your cheeks. You want to help him, but you don’t know how. Never you have seen Remus having a nightmare this bad. Once again you try to grab his hands. Now Remus lets you, but his hands soon take your wrists and you are stuck. You feel Remus’ strong fingers around your wrists, but they keep squeezing. You pull your hands away.
There is an option, you think. But you’re not sure if it will help. Carefully you get up and climb over Remus. You lie down at the empty, left side of his bed. You shift closer to Remus and slowly put your arm around him. You stroke his lower arm with your thumb. Remus’ body calms down but the moaning gets louder and he starts to mumble.
‘No… don’t… take me… leave her… no…’
You lift your upper body and start to stroke Remus’ cheek. His eyes are moving under his closed eyelids. It is a funny sight, but you are not in the mood to laugh. The tears are still in your eyes.
‘Don’t hurt her… somebody help… take me instead…’
Your arms fail to keep you up any longer and you rest your head on Remus’ pillow. Again you start to talk to him.
‘Remus, calm down. You’re here, in your bedroom. Nobody is hurting you. Nobody is taking…’ you hesitate. You want to know who Remus is dreaming about. Did he meet someone tonight? Or is it going on longer and hasn’t he told you? ‘…her from you. Remus, you are safe here. I am with you.’ Remus moves at your whispering. He turns his body to you and buries his head in your neck. His hands firmly wrap around your waist and his fingers push in your skin. You can feel Remus’ heart beating through your shirt.
Soon your shirt is wet from Remus’ sweaty chest. But you don’t let go of him. He has stopped moaning and is calmer. Finally it is quiet in the room. The wind from the window is blowing in your face and you calm down too. You stroke Remus’ hair out of his face and place a soft kiss on his forehead.
‘Goodnight, honey. I love you.’
- -- -
Chirping of birds. People talking while they walk by. Cars driving by. Remus wakes up to those sounds. He feels terrible. Last night he had a nightmare. A bad one. He dreamt someone was taking you from him and torturing you. He gets chills when he thinks of it.
Remus’ attention gets caught by the open window. He doesn’t remember opening it. Sitting up straight Remus also notices he is not wearing a sweater. That is strange because he always wears a sweater. He strokes his bare chest and looks around the room. Then when he looks at his left he sees a girl. A girl with (y/h/c) hair. She is sleeping with her face towards the wall.
Pacing around the room Remus tries to remember what happened last night. He was not that drunk, was he? He does have a rather unpleasant headache. Remus has so gone up in his mind that he hasn’t noticed the girl moved. But when he sits down back on his bed, debating whether or not to wake her up, he notices that the girl turned her head. Her head is now facing Remus, but hidden behind her hair. Remus puts out his hands and removes the hair from the girl’s face. Swiftly Remus pulls his hand back. It’s you. The strange girl in his bed is you. Remus freaks out. What happened?
Someone knocks on the door. James walks in. His eyes are sleepy and he is wearing his pyjama’s. With his eyes half-closed he falls down on Remus bed. Right on top of you.
‘Bloody hell. What’s this?’ James mutters with his face in the covers.
Remus immediately pulls James up and shushes him. James’ eyes widen when he sees there is someone else in Remus’ bed.
‘Who’s that? You didn’t take anyone home last night, did you?’ Remus shakes his head and puts James’ head closer to you with a smooth movement of his arm. ‘No way! Nice job man!’
Remus pushes James back. ‘No, not “nice job!” James, I don’t know what happened last night! I went to sleep and when I woke up, (Y/N) was here,’ Remus whispers in panic. ‘And I had a nightmare,’ he adds softly.
Your hands move and James gets up.
‘I don’t know what happened either, but I do know that you should tell her. There is a reason she is in your bed Rem, not every girl does that,’ James says and he disappears. Probably to tell Peter and Sirius, Remus guesses.
But before Remus can worry about that you have opened your eyes. You look up to Remus. He suddenly feels very naked; he hasn’t put on clothes and he is very aware of that now. He pulls up his legs and puts his arms around them. You sit up and push Remus’ knees down.
‘Don’t hide from me,’ you say and Remus blushes. He tries not to stare at you, but he is failing miserably. Remus’ eyes glide over your body. Your legs, your feet hidden under the covers, your hips, your breasts, your shoulders, your arms. Remus takes in every single piece of your body. He thinks you’re beautiful and he knows you don’t agree with that.
‘Stop that.’ Your voice breaks Remus’ thoughts. He feels a bit guilty.
You climb over Remus and walk to his closet. ‘Do you feel better?’ you ask while putting on one of his sweaters. Remus stares at you.
‘What- What do you mean?’ he asks with a hoarse voice. You turn around to him.
‘Well, with the nightmare…’ you reply and your voice gets softer with every word.
Remus melts under your caring look. He wants to ask how you know, but all he can manage to do is nod. You sit down at Remus legs and place your hands on them. Remus feels the cold from your hands spreading through his legs, but he doesn’t move.
‘Last night, or actually this morning, I heard you in your room. I tried everything I normally do but you just wouldn’t calm down. So I climbed in bed next to you and you finally fell asleep. I know it’s inconvenient, but I was desperate! I’m sorry if I scared you when you woke up.’
Remus shakes his head. So that is why you were in his bed. He is relieved but also a little disappointed. A little piece of Remus had hoped that something had happened. But something did happen, Remus thinks. You could have just sat at his bed, but you didn’t.
‘No, no, it’s fine. Thank you.’
‘I know you usually don’t want to talk about your nightmares,’ you start hesitatingly. ‘But this one seemed so bad…’
Remus thinks and remember what James had said. Should he tell you? He could always just play it off as caring for a friend.
‘Yeah, I uh…’ Remus says. ‘I dreamt that he was taking… you. He said he would hurt you and kill you. And there was nothing I could do. All I did was cry and scream… I thought I was gonna lose you, (Y/N) and I can’t… I can’t stand that thought…’
-
The girl he was dreaming about is you? You stare at Remus with your mouth open. Remus smiles a bit uncomfortable and closes your mouth by putting his finger under it. He wants to take his hand back but you take it. You look from Remus’ hand to his face and back to his hand. A single tear rolls over your face. You squeeze the hand in your hand.
‘You’ll never lose me, Remus. I promise.’
You let go of Remus hand and hug him. Remus falls back on his bed and you can feel his chest going up and down from laughing. You giggle and lay next to him, your head still on his chest.
‘Try to get rid of me, you’ll see.’ You pop your head up on your hands and stare into Remus’ amber eyes. Remus has stopped laughing and is avoiding your look. ‘Remus?’ you ask and his head turns to you, but his eyes rest on a spot near your shoulder. ‘Who was taking me?’
Something changes in Remus’ eyes. They get darker. The hand on your back turns into a fist and when Remus speaks, his voice is trembling. ‘It’s no one. Don’t worry about it,’ Remus says and his hand relaxes again, but his eyes don’t.
‘Remus, I want to help you. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what is bothering you.’
‘I said don’t worry!’ Remus snaps. He pushes you off him and gets up. Angrily he puts on his sweater and pants. You stare in disbelief at him. What just happened? All you wanted to do is talk and now he is mad? You sit up straight and cover your body with your arms.
‘So this is how it is gonna go? You have terrible nightmares, I help you and you won’t even let me help you?’ you ask defensive. You are getting pissed; you did not just spend your whole night worrying about Remus only to now not even hear why.
‘I don’t need help,’ Remus mutters and you snort. Remus looks up angry at you.
‘Oh, get bent,’ you say and walk out of the room, very aware of Remus staring at you, but ignoring him.
- -- -
The whole day you have ignored Remus and he feels terrible. But he just didn’t want to talk about it. He responded to the questions of his friends with brief answers and tried not to think about his nightmare or you. But he is failing. You are all that is on Remus’ mind. The way you looked when you were asleep, how much you seemed to care about him, the way you looked at his scars without the slightest judgement.
‘Just go talk to her! You’re driving me crazy!’
‘I can’t just go talk to her, Sirius! I don’t know what to say or do!’
Sirius turns to Remus and hits him on his shoulder. ‘Just say you are sorry and that you shouldn’t have acted the way you did!’
‘Like it is that easy,’ Remus snorts and rolls his eyes.
‘But it is! Oh never mind, but at least can you be nervous somewhere else? I’m trying to concentrate, I have to kill James or I will never hear the end of this,’ Sirius says and he turns back to his game.
Remus gets up and walks to the kitchen. He doesn’t see you until he has sat down at the table, dropping his head in his hands. Through his fingers Remus can see you staring at him. After a few seconds your expression changes and you turn away. Remus sighs, maybe Sirius is right and he should just go and talk to you.
But when he lifts his head up, you’re already gone.
You’re not at dinner either and it is killing Remus. He really wants to talk to you. His food tastes bland and after a few bites Remus gives up and pushes his plate away.
‘Why won’t you talk to her?’ Peter asks. Remus looks up to him and shrugs.
‘I don’t know what to say. I hurt her and I don’t know how to make it up to her.’
‘But all you have to do is say you’re sorry. She’ll forgive you,’ James says with his mouth full of food. Remus shakes his head. No, it’s not that simple. If it only was.
- -- -
Two hours after the boys had dinner, you walk down to the kitchen. You don’t want to talk to anyone right now. You hear sounds from the living room and you hope no one sees you. In the kitchen you quickly grab some food and then you run back to your room again.
You feel alone. You don’t understand why Remus will just not tell you about his dream. Doesn’t he understand that you only want to help him? You know he knows you would do anything for him.
A soft knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. You say nothing. You don’t care who it is; you’re not in the mood for company. The person behind the door walks away after a minute and you are left all alone again.
Absent-minded you spent the rest of the night going through your phone, reading a book and listening to music. You do hear the sounds from the hallway but they don’t reach you. Nothing does. You don’t even realise how late it is until you close your book and look at the time. It is 1 o’clock already. The house is already silent and the boys have gone to bed. You want too, but just like last night the sounds from Remus’ bedroom keep you awake. With your eyes open you lay in bed. You don’t want to help him, but you know he needs you.
While you’re contemplating whether to help Remus or not, the sounds get worse. Remus is moaning and mumbling again. Sighing you get up and walk to Remus’ room. In the door opening you stand still. It is the exact setting as last night. You open the window and sit at the edge of the bed.
‘Remus, calm down,’ you start with a soothing voice. But it’s like he doesn’t hear you. You get more comfortable and take the sheets. You sigh when you see that Remus is wearing his sweater again. His arms are limp along his body and taking the sweater off is not hard.
‘Remus, I’m here. Can you hear me? No one is hurting you. You’re safe here.’
You really don’t want to sleep in his bed again. He obviously didn’t like it. But you don’t see any other option. No matter how many times you brush your hands on his cheek, Remus keeps squirming and moaning. A bit sad you climb over Remus and lie next to him. His body follows your movements and as soon as your body touches the mattress Remus’ strong hands grasp your waist and pull you closer. You feel his unsteady breath on your cheek and his heartbeat on your chest.
‘(Y/N)…’ he mumbles and you freeze. ‘(Y/N)… ‘m sorry…’
‘I know you are,’ you whisper back and stroke back Remus’ curls that have fallen in his face. His forehead is sweaty and warm.
‘‘m sorry… (Y/N)…’ Tears are welling up in your eyes and you stare at a corner of the room. ‘(Y/N)… hurt you… sorry… dream…’
Remus’ mumbling gets unintelligible and he relaxes more. His mouth is still moving and you giggle at the soft lips that keep opening and closing. He looks adorable so calm and you have to resist the urge to kiss him. Instead you let your hands wander up and down Remus’ back, tracing the scars with your fingers.
‘I love you, (Y/N).’
Remus speaks the words clearly like he is awake. In shock you look at him. His eyes are still closed and now his mouth is closed too. Suddenly you get very aware about every touch on your body. You hear all the sounds in the house and yet you hear nothing.
Remus has never told you he loves you. He always says he likes you and that you are the best, but he never says that he loves you. You have asked your friends about it and they answered that Remus had never told anyone that he loves them. Not even his friends. Not even when he is drunk. You all know he loves you, Remus has his own ways of showing how much he loves his friends. Most of the ways he doesn’t even know about. He always knows exactly what to say when someone is upset, he will help you with anything if you ask him and sometimes you don’t even have to ask. He knows when you are feeling down and how to make you happy. It all shows Remus loves his friends, but he never tells them. Until now.
Did your crush just declared his love for you? In front of you? Directly to you? But he was asleep. Maybe it was a unconscious thing. But still, Remus never says that and he just did it. He just said it. To you.
You sit up and Remus’ hands slide from your waist to your hips. He doesn’t move at all. He finally is asleep. But now you want him to wake up. You want to talk to him, kiss him, tell him you love him too. You do nothing and let him sleep. He looks so peaceful and perfect with his pouting lips and his eyes a little squeezed.
But as you look at Remus, his words echo through your head. ‘I don't need help.’ The tone, his face and the words. They all tell you Remus doesn't want your help. You don't know what will happen if Remus wakes up next to you again.
Careful not to wake him up, you leave his bed. Remus is far off in dreamland. On your toes you walk back to your room. You fall in your bed and close your eyes. Despite being back in your room, alone, you can't help but smile.
- -- -
Remus had a weird dream last night. He dreamt he told you he loved you and that he fell asleep in your arms. However, when he wakes up he is alone in his bed. But someone must have been in his room because the window is open again. And there is only one person Remus can think of; you.
Groaning he falls back in his bed. Your smell is vaguely on his pillow and Remus takes a deep breath. Suddenly he gets remembered of last night. He can swear you were close to him. But why did he wake up alone then?
Remus enters the kitchen and encounters you, standing with your back to him. His friends are at the dining table and he joins them. Apparently his face shows worries because Sirius asks him:
‘What's the matter?’
‘I think (Y/N) was in my room again last night. But she wasn't there this morning,’ Remus answers, glancing at your back. It is then he recognizes his jumper. He turns back to his friends and shakes his head. ‘I don't know what to do.’
‘Just tell her the truth!’ James whispers. ‘Say that you love her! Worst case scenario she doesn't like you back and it will be so awkward she'll move out.’
‘Thanks, man. Now I really want to tell her.’
Remus’ attention is taken by movement in the kitchen. You have turned around and are looking at Remus. If you are mad at him, you are good at hiding it; as soon as you lock eyes with Remus a smile breaks on your face.
You place a plate of pancakes on the table. Remus is surprised; you only make pancakes on special days. James, Sirius and Peter are not as surprised as Remus. They dive into the pancakes. Remus hesitantly takes a pancake and while he pours syrup over it he looks at you from the corner of his eye. You are laughing at Peter, who is stuffing his face with the sweetness. Nothing seems like it's wrong, but yet there is something off about the whole situation.
But Remus says nothing, he is too glad seeing you're happy again to comment on the weirdness. In silence he eats his breakfast and almost chokes on his orange juice when you bend over and he can see most of your naked chest.
- -- -
‘Did you see him look, James?’
‘(Y/N), I told you. This guy is smitten for you!’
You and James are sitting in the garden, hidden under the big tree. Remus is sitting inside the house, reading and you can see him through the window. He has a frown on his forehead and is so concentrated on his book, he is not even bothered by Peter and his videogame.
This morning, when Remus was still asleep, you told your other three friends what happened. When they didn't react as surprised as you, James admitted to you that Remus does indeed have a crush on you. You didn't need to say anything to them to give away your crush; your red face said it all.
Then quick came the plan. You would flirt with Remus to the point where he cannot take it anymore. And so far the plan is working good. The orange juice incident just made you more confident.
‘So you're ready for part two?’ James asks.
You take off Remus' sweater and are left in thin shorts, a tank top and no bra. All part of the plan. ‘Bring it on,’ you say confident.
James walks to the back of the house and fills a bucket with water. You walk to the middle of the backyard and keep still at a point Remus can see you the best. James and the bucket approach you and you start to yell.
‘No, James! Please no! James!’
From the corner of your eye you check if Remus looking at you. He is and you nod at James. This one takes one big step towards you and empties the bucket over your head. The cold water falls over your shoulders and wets your whole body.
‘Ahhh! JAMES!’
Remus immediately gets up and runs to the backyard. While he hurries over to you, you quickly shoot James a smile before turning to Remus.
‘(Y/N), what happened?’
You shiver, though you are not really cold. The sun is shining and warms up your skin.
‘James threw that bucket with ice cold water at me! Now I'm all wet!’ you say and spin in front of Remus. You can feel his piercing eyes on your body. And that's what you wanted. The tank top has lowered and exposes a lot of skin and your thin shorts are soaked and your dark blue panties show through the wet fabric. All part of the plan.
‘Why did he do that?’ Remus asks James but his eyes are still on you.
‘I don't know. Just felt like it,’ James answers.
‘I'm cold,’ you say and try to make your voice sound as sweet as you can.
‘Yes, yes of course you are...’ Remus says with a raspy voice and tears his eyes away from your chest. ‘Let's get you inside.’
Remus puts his arms around you and takes you back into the house. However, when he wants to open the door of the bathroom it is locked.
‘Sorry!’ Sirius yells through the closed door.
Remus sighs and takes you to your room. He sits down on the armchair but you keep standing in the middle of your room. You turn to your closet to pick some clean clothes. Remus’ eyes you practically feel on your bum and you turn red. When you turn around and catch him looking at you, you suddenly can't hold it in any longer.
‘You had a nightmare again,’ you blurt out. Remus looks up to you with a shock on his face. ‘I uhh- you wouldn't fall asleep so I lied down next to you again. I'm sorry, I know that yesterday you were angry so I thought it would be better if I was not in your bed...’ You can't stop and Remus also does nothing to stop you. ‘I know you don't want to talk about it and you don't have to, but you did hurt me yesterday. You know I would do anything to help you, right?’
Remus is staring at you and nods. ‘Yeah, I know. But I don't remember having a nightmare,’ Remus says. ‘I only remember dreaming of telling...’ He stops talking and looks at his feet.
You walk up to him and when you are in front of him you stand between his legs. His head is a little lower than yours. Remus looks confused at you but you look down at him and kiss him.
At first Remus freezes, but when he realises what is happening his hands find your thighs and he returns the kiss. You place your knees at each side of Remus' legs and sit on them, leaving a wet stain on his trousers right where your shorts are.
Kissing Remus is even better than you imagined. His soft lips make yours ache for more. His hands are at the exact right place. You are a little surprised that the sweet and innocent boy can be so passionate and lustful.
You break the kiss and watch Remus’ smile grow. He looks happier than you have ever seen him.
‘I love you too,’ you whisper. ‘You’ll never lose me.’
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futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago
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Breaking in Grey
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A/N: Like forreal I know this someone requested with an URL and I tried finding that someone but I couldn’t find her but I finished it and I hope she likes it. It’s not long and it’s how I felt when I was going through similar things. 
REQUEST:Hi! Can you make a story that has to do with a gryffindor reader who has a rough past(her parents divorced at a young age, shes lived with mom and her mom keeps trying to find someone else but never finds someone), and last time she saw her mom, her mom was drunk and started talking about how disappointed she in in the reader, making the reader slowly start to break. Sorry if this is too much detail lol, also i feel like either Sirius or James would work for this, whichever fits! Love your books
WARNING: Idk really how to say it but this fic can be triggering to some people who have a problem with mental health or any suicidal thoughts, or alcholism so I advise that if any of the topics makes you feel uncomfortable just don’t read it. 
XX
It felt as if your world was grey. Not black, nor white but grey. Grey as in seeing the dead roses on the shelves, faltering into depths of sorrow. Grey as in the room smelt of alcohol, not much of a flavor, more plain alcohol and dullness.
“Mom!” you called out from the hall, only a sports bag over your shoulder as you opened the door to the living room. 
The reek entered your nostrils like a wave and you took a step bag, just trying to pull yourself together. You fixed your grimace into a straight face and saw her in the arms of a man. 
You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t. 
Not thinking twice, you just went through the door. You’ll call a taxi but will you have enough money? It’s better to just wait for the bus but what if you’re going to miss the train?
“Fuck!” you ran your hands through your hair and gritted your teeth. You wanted to dig your nails into your scalp and peel the skin off. You were so angry! So furious and sad at the same time that you just plopped yourself on the stoop and let your head fall on your knees.
Everything. Everything was shit. Your whole life! 
Your dad- where was your dad? WHERE!? 
You wanted to cry. No, you wanted to scream. No, you wanted to run into a wall but no, not that either. You just wanted to hurt yourself because you couldn’t hurt the person who made you hurt. You wanted to release some of the tightness and the pain inside of you because it damn hurt. 
You didn’t have a ride. You didn’t have anything really.
“I’ll be damned!” you heard someone shout but you only nuzzled closer into your arms. It wasn’t meant for you anyway. “My pretty transfiguration partner.” you shot your head up, finding blue eyes and a matching grin looking at you. 
“Great.” you said, quickly wiping off the sorrow and the pain, placing allmighty smile on your face. “Lolly?” he offered you one from his hands as one was already in his mouth, throwing itself from one side to the other. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to the choo choo?” he started to joke as he sat down next to you, looking at you and noticing something about your smile. 
“Yeah, I am.” you stood up and slung the sports bag over your shoulder, walking away. 
You really weren’t in the mood to joke around with someone who has only been your transfiugration partner in your fourth year and most of the time just played around, making rucus with his friend. 
He really wasn’t anybody to you except some asshole. 
“Hold up, girly.” he ran after you, catching up and walking by your side. 
You felt your throat go sore, your eyes wanting to tear up but you didn’t let them. 
Can’t he just leave you alone?! It’s not like you had enough last night! It’s not like you’re a worthless, unintelligent freak! It’s not like you were the biggest mistake ever made! It’s not like you’re just a burdon to everybody and everything and just wish to evaporate into disappointment that you are! 
Your throat squeezed but you swallowed the dry feeling back inside. 
He noticed. 
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” your voice was raspy, barely creating any sound at all.
“I can give you a ride?” he asked, eyes watching yours but you only shook your head, walking faster.
“No, thanks. I’ll walk.” it wasn’t much stronger but it was understandable and you hoped he got the hint to just leave. 
Yet, he didn’t. 
He stepped in front of you, holding you still in his arms. 
“Ger’ off me!” you pushed his hands away and took a step back. “Don’t you get it! Leave me the hell alone!” you stared at him, eyes watering as if you’re about to break into a thousand little pieces. Your legs became numb, as if somebody cut you under your knees. He could see you barely standing and he could see you breaking in front of him but all he could see was how this fourteen year old girl, who sat next to him in Transfiguration with bright eyes and adorable laugh, pushing and shoving him away whenever he made a snarky remark about other students in the class. The girl who shot him a glare whenever he was too mean to someone. The girl who shushed him one too many times but never enough to keep him quiet. The girl he thought was cute but never much interested in him. The girl that was his Transfiguration partner one whole year until that year passed and they went back into being strangers. 
That girl he thought he didn’t know at all. The girl he thought would be just another face to remember in the future was now the girl he saw breaking just as he broke once upon a time ago.
That girl. The girl breaking. 
He took a step forward, despite all the stares passers gave him. “I won’t leave until you-”
“Why do you care!” it was more of an accusation than a question and he could feel it in your tone. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” you turned around and started running with a heavy bag on your shoulder that kept dragging you down. 
You could hear him calling out but the tears were already falling and you didn’t want him to see you. You didn’t want anybody to see you. This was embarrasing. You losing it on the streets was embarrasing. 
So you dropped the bag and you ran faster than you ever did in your life. And you ran- you ran so fast until your legs made you fall into the wet grass underneath you, somewhere in the nowhere. 
You looked up, crying and weeping like a child. Hell, you were still a child. 
You didn’t ask for magical powers. You didn’t ask dad to leave. You didn’t ask to have a mother to hate you. You didn’t ask for Sirius Black to be there when you were at your lowest. You didn’t ask to be alive so why the hell were you! 
All alone in this grey world. 
You couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop wailing and weeping into the existance. You dug your fingers into the dirt, feeling it gather under your nails. The grass got slick among your fingers and the leaves were so sharp they cut. 
You didn’t hear the sound of a motorbike. You didn’t hear the call of your name and you didn’t hear him approaching until he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. 
A girl he didn’t know and he was holding her in his arms as if she was the most important being in the world for him. As if it was fragile and he was keeping it from breaking. 
“It’s alright. I’m here.” he whispered and you cried, holding onto his arms.
Because at first you didn’t believe it. That he was there, Sirius Black. The boy who sat next to you in Transfiguration class but never exchanged a word after that. You had somebody to hold and somehow that made it better. 
And like your heart was filling up the space in your throat, you heard yourself speak. “I’m alone!” you sobbed, crying and holding onto him. “She hates me! My own mother hates me and my dad doesn’t even care!” you cried and cried and you didn’t know but those words hit home with the boy. 
Yet he didn’t break. He already broke once and once was enough. He had James. You have him now. 
“You’re not alone, you hear me.” he whispered, almost ordered you to listen. “It’s not about them. It’s about what she thinks, what he thinks. You’re stronger without them. You’re stronger because of them. You’re strong.” 
“How would you know? You don’t even know me.You don’t even notice me.” you looked up as he offered you a comforting smile. Not the one he usually gives you but the one that just gives you the feelign of empathy. 
“The hell are you talking about? I know you.” he looked far at the distance. “I may not know your background but I have a feeling of how it feels. I know you like to hit me with a book- and one of the thick ones. Quite harshly too.” he started to joke a bit and you let out a laugh. 
Merlin, you hated when somebody could make you laugh when you were angry.
“And I do notice you. I notice when you come down in the morning, you seem to run back up because you always forget something. You wear buns most of the time because they are the easiest thing to do. Just plop your hair up but there are days you come down with braids and I like those days. Back in Transfiguration I could see you wearing this parfume that was really nice- I don’t know which one it was but it always smelled so nice and you always smelled nice. You had that parfume for a while but then it stopped and I could only smell the cheap ones whenever we passed by. I didn’t mind the cheap ones. They didn’t smell bad but the one you had before was really great. Sometimes you would smell like a fresh summer breeze and I would always try to get closer to you in Transfiguration because you always smelled so good. It’s one of the things I really took notice in and noticed that you always smelled good.” 
You were speechless. You haven’t expected that at all from him. Not from him and not so bluntly. He just said it like it wasn’t odd or creepy. It wasn’t thought. If somebody told you that one normal day, you’d think it’s odd but he told you now and it felt... it made you feel better. You were noticed. You still are. 
And you didn’t do anything except continue to look up at him and then follow his gaze into the field of nothingness. 
“You’re not alone. Not anymore.” he squeezed you gently. “You may think you are but you’re not. It’s always like that with us.”
“Us?” 
“The family disappointments.” he quirked an eyebrow. “We are so used to being talked down on. For not following simple rules or obeying but that’s just an excuse for their pathethic decisions and pride. They put all of their flaws and faults on us but we’re not them. “ he looked into your eyes, ordering you to listen one more time. “You’re not what they say you are. You’re not what they make you believe you are. You’re better and stronger. You’re all they can’t be.” he kept looking into your eyes as you kept looking up into his.
And there was this moment of just you, him and the field of nothingness. The wet grass was damping your clothes and his words cleared your enough to realize that. You’re not alone. Not anymore. Not when he’s here and his eyes were the exact proof you needed to feel that. 
He removed himself from you and offered you his hand, grinning. “So are we going to catch this train or not?” 
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talpup · 3 years ago
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Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud.  He knew there would be trails.  He knew trouble would come his way.  Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant.  What he didn’t know.  Didn’t expect.  Was that literal Chaos would come his way.  That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble.  Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealousy of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.
Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).
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Chapter 101
Teris sat down at a table with her friends.  Excited for their much needed girls day, Venice and Teris had decided to leave early and have breakfast at a restaurant in Raque.  Since Abril and Bran weren’t meeting Ricte till later in the afternoon, the two had joined them.
With the restaurant crowded, they took the first available table.  At first Abril had complained about sitting out on the balcony, muttering about the salty sea breeze.  Then she made Teris move, saying she wanted the seat with a view of the water.
Having seen the view from higher balcony’s at much fancier restaurants, Teris let Abril have the seat without a fuss.  Hopefully giving Abril the seat would better her mood and allow Teris and Venice to finally get Abril to open up about what was going on with her, Gendry, and Ricte.
But apparently Venice had other ideas since as soon as the waitress took their order and left, she looked at Teris and demanded to know. “What’s going on?”
Teris blinked in surprise.  “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb.  Spill.”  Abril ordered.
“About Yami?”  Teris’ eyes darted to Bran.  She wasn’t adverse to girl talk; but there was no way she was doing so with Bran there.
“No, silly.  How are you holding up?  First Bran and I bring in that guy from those Crazies, only to have him die five days later.  And the day after Bran and I bring that guy in, you and Yami are abducted. Never mind Nozel and Fuegoleon getting taken the night before that and ending up in Healers Hall.”  Venice frowned, worried about her friend.  “It’s no wonder Jax gave you and Yami the day off.  You two have been through a lot.”
Teris huffed.  “When aren’t we going through a lot?  I have a feeling that’s what they’re going to put on my headstone.  Here lies Teris Nova, she went through a lot.”
“Hey! Don’t talk like that!  Your name’s gonna be Teris Sukehiro by the time there’s need for any headstone.”  Teasing as she was, Venice was also deadly serious.  There was no way her friend was dying anytime soon.  Not if she had something to say about it.
“I know you can’t say much.  But at least tell us you all learned something useful before that guy died.”  Abril said, hopeful tone filled with disgust for Flic and the Agents of Chaos.
Teris glanced a Bran once again, knowing he knew the sad truth that they had learned little to nothing of use from Flic.  Looking between Venice and Abril, she sighed wondering what she could tell her friends that would give them hope but wouldn’t be a lie.
101.2
Yami hadn’t needed his sense of Ki to be able to tell Bran had been disappointed he wouldn’t be spending the day off with the guys. Bran’s guilt over his boyhood friend sweetening up to Abril, when Gendry had been the first Black Bull to befriend him, likely hadn’t helped.  At least Gendry wasn’t the kind of person who took his hurt and jealousy out on others.  Yami doubted he would’ve been so dispassionate if in Gendry’s place.  In fact he had taken his fair share of anger and jealousy over Nozel out on Bran by kicking the younger man out of his room so he could sit at Bran’s window and wait for Teris to return.
Teris… Yami smiled at the thought of her.  He had teased her early this morning, feigning hurt feelings and saying she couldn’t wait to be away from him.  Teris had laughed at his toying act and silenced him with a kiss, promising to make it up to him later.  That promise made Yami eager for the days end so he could return to her.  But first, he had some mana to expend in the hopes that it would ease the building force inside him and help with the constant undercurrent that made him want to destroy somebody just for breathing in his direction.
Seated on the ground along the perimeter of the Green Mantis’ training yard, Yami drank from a water skin and watched Jack and Tobin start their fight.
“This should be interesting.  Jack’s slash magic can cut through anything given enough time to adjust but against Tobin’s giant magic it won’t make much of a difference.”  Yami turned to Gendry thinking of the battle they just had.  “You’ve progressed further since last time we fought.  Who have you been training with?”
Gendry shrugged, eyes on the match.  “Who ever I can.  Mostly Bran.”
Yami nodded.  Bran and Gendry were both Third Class Intermediate Magic Knights.  Though his and Teris’ influence might've encouraged the rest of the Black Bulls to be a little more engaged and proactive about their duties.  It had been Gendry's friendship with Bran that had prompted Gendry into wanting to become a better Magic Knight. Sadly, Abril hadn’t been all that enthused about Gendry’s newfound interest.  Instead of seeing it as something they could do together, Abril complained about the time Gendry’s new focus took away from their usual activities.
Yami pushed the cork back in the stopper and tossed the water skin aside. “We should schedule a regular sparring session.  Nothing too frequent.  Every other week or once a month maybe.”
“I would've thought you had enough going on with being Vice Captain and dealing with the Agents of Chaos mess.”  Gendry said.
“If you don’t want to just say so.”  Yami said, eyes on Jack and Tobin.
“That’s not it at all.  I’d like to have a set sparring session with you. I could use the practice.”
“Then?” Yami questioned.
“It’s exactly as I said.  I thought you’d be bogged down and busy.  I don’t want to add to the pile of things pulling at you and become a nuisance.”  Gendry said.
Yami huffed, eyes following the fight.  “Don’t think you’re capable of being a nuisance.”
“Tell that to Abril.”  Gendry muttered.
Yami raised an eyebrow.  He was no closer to understanding Gendry and Abril’s relationship then he had been during his first year as a Magic Knight.  Not that he had bothered trying to understand it. Still, Gendry was a friend and friends had to occasionally show they had an interest in the others hopes and lives.
“Still wanna marry her?”  Yami asked.
“I said I think I might want to marry her.  And yeah.  I still think I might.” Gendry said.
“Then fix things with her and see that she’s happy.  If that’s too much trouble then let it go and be glad you have your answer on that ‘might want to marry her’ thing.”  Yami told.
“You and Teris make it look so easy.”  Gendry sighed, his complaint both envious and amazed.
Yami’s hearty laugh bounced off the surrounding trees.  It echoed so loudly through the sparring field that it gave Tobin pause.  Jack took advantage of the distraction, sending out a slash that knocked Tobin on his ass.
Gaining control of his laughter, Yami asked.  “Which part looks easy? Dealing with a group of crazies?  Or being unable to go out and do anything together because Bird Braid’s father might send more people to try and kill me?  Or maybe it’s the likely future fight I’ll have with her brother to free her from her family that looks easy to you.”
“I don’t mean any of that.”  Gendry said.  “I know none of that can be easy.  But that’s all outward stuff you have to deal with. I’m talking about the two of you.  As a couple.”
Yami’s humored grin turned dopey as he thought of Teris.  “Yeah.  I really lucked out.  Teris is an easy woman to get along with.  Pig headed, prideful, overly curious, too caring brat that she is; she’s perfect.”
“Abril’s great too.  I just wish she thought I wasn’t so inconsequential.” Gendry said.
“If she thinks that then she stupider than I thought.”  Yami said, seeing that Jack was leading Tobin to make the kind of strike he wanted in order to serve up a good return.
Gendry scowled at Yami.
Sensing the change in his friend, Yami said by way of apology. “Fine. No bad talking the Inch Worm.  So what’s the problem between you two anyway?”
Gendry ran a hand through his hair.  Other than Abril’s complaints about the time his training took away from them, there was the matter of Ricte.  But Ricte was a secondary problem.  A causal result of an underlying problem he had been unable to name.  “I don’t know.”
“Then find out.  If it’s something you think is worth working on, work on it.”  Yami said.
“What if it’s me?  What if there’s something about me that she doesn’t like?”  Gendry asked.
“She wouldn’t be your constant shadow and complaining that your training was taking time away from her if she wasn’t interested in you.” Yami told.
Gendry nodded at that, feeling better.  “So what do you say to every other Monday morning?”
Yami’s brows pulled together.  “For?”
“Our sparing sessions.”  Gendry said.
Yami shook his head.  “I got way too much going on.  You’d only become a nuisance.”
“Every other Monday it is.”  Gendry grinned.
101.3
Breakfast long since finished Teris, Venice, Abril, and Bran still sat at the balcony table.
“Betrothed?” Teris blinked at Venice.  “When?  How?  Kess and Jon haven’t been dating that long.  Have they?  It’s not like they had long held feelings for each another the way Tobin did for you.  Did they?”
Venice shrugged her shoulders.  “Don’t know.  I didn’t think he liked anyone else while we were dating.  I only heard about the engagement yesterday afternoon.  From the sound if it, they had some big fancy dinner between their families the day before that.  I don’t know anything more.  But since you know how all that stuff works.  I was hoping you could tell me if this was Jon or his parents doing.”
Teris shook her head in disbelief.  For it to be official and celebrated with a dinner, Jon and Kess’ parents would've had to have agreed to the match.  But was it their parents who had made the match?  Or Jon and Kess seeking one, and gaining approval?  Jon might've been a bastard son of Lord Denwulf.  But the Denwulf’s were quite a ways up the noble ladder from Kess’ family.  And with Kess being the youngest of three daughters, it wasn’t too far fetched for Lord Yates to look to wed Kess to Jon.
“What’s it matter anyway?  You’re with Tobin.”  Abril said.
“I just think it’s a bit sudden and am worried for Jon’s sake.” Venice snapped.  “I mean, he and Kess just started dating what? Back near the Star Awards?”
“Far as we know.”  Teris nodded.
Abril shrugged.  “Well, when you know.  You know.”
Teris and Venice turned to her.
“What?” Abril demanded, shoulders stiffening under their gaze.
Bran’s eyes darted around the three women.  He had been quiet for so long, he wondered if they had forgotten he was there.  Having been the first son, Bran was use to being forgotten while his seven older sisters talked.  In his experience, being forgotten was far better than being remembered.
“What do you know of it?”  Venice scoffed.
Abril crossed her arms, scowling.  “Apparently nothing.”  Before talk of Jon and Kess could continue, Abril exhaled loudly.  Resting her elbows on the table, she whined.  “How does one know?”
“How does one know what?”  Teris asked.
“That someone’s the one.  How do you know?”  Abril asked.
“I thought Gendry was your one.”  Venice teased.
“So did I.”  Abril mumbled.
Sharing a look with Venice, Teris prompted.  “But?”
“I don’t know!  He never talks of the future.  How can I know Gendry’s the one if I don’t know if I’m his one?”  Abril asked.
“Because the only other person Gendry regularly talks to is Yami and Bran, and I don’t think he wants to end up with either of them.”  Venice played.
“It doesn’t really matter how Gendry feels.  I mean, it does in the end.  But it doesn’t change the way you feel at the start.  Think about how torn up I was during that time Yami refused to speak to me before we got together.  Him being an idiot ass didn’t change how I felt about him.  Or how Tobin felt about Venice.”  Teris gestured to her friend.
“The man was persistent.”  Venice nodded of Tobin.
“I finally told him how I feel.”  Abril muttered about Gendry.
“In words?  With your voice?”  Venice questioned, in disbelief.
Abril nodded.
“What did he say?”  Teris asked.
“What he always says.  Nothing.”  Abril answered, exasperated.
Venice huffed.  “Sounds about right.  Guys are stupid.  They either won’t shut up when you want them to be quiet.  Or they refuse to talk when you want them to speak.”
“They’re not some pet that obeys.”  Teris chuckled.
“I know!  They’re incapable of obeying.  Though it’d be nice if they at least tried to listen.”  Venice complained.
Teris shook her head smiling.
“Ricte proposed.”  Abril said.
“What!” The two girls and Bran exclaimed.
“Why?” Bran demanded in guilty horror.
“When?” Teris asked.
“How?” Venice questioned.
“In his last letter.”  Abril answered.
“He proposed in a letter?”  Venice asked, incredulous.
Teris stared, dumbfounded.
Bran frowned, unhappy with his friend.
“That’s her there.”  Someone said, pointing to their table.
For a second Teris thought their waitress had complained to the restaurants manager about them lingering at the table till noon and was pointing them out.  She had a moment to think that they should leave a hefty tip for taking up the spot and the waitress’ chance of further customers when a magical burst of air exploded at their table knocking them back.
101.3.2
“When you insisted I take some time off, I didn’t expect you to pay call and ask for this.”  Nozel murmured, uncomfortably.
Walking beside her Vice Captain, Kess glanced out over the sea shore.  While not blatantly obvious, it was clear Nozel had been struggling with some inner turmoil since his release from Healer’s Hall after his abduction by the Agents of Chaos.  It was why Kess had given Nozel three days leave as soon as his debriefing about those events was done.
“Neither did I.”  Kess tucked her hair behind an ear, betrothal ring glittering in the sunlight.  “And I’m sorry to take you away from your family on your last day off, but I could use some help.  And, well… I thought this might be a way for us to bond outside of work.”
Nozel’s father wasn’t even here.  And after three days with his siblings, Nozel wasn’t all that sorry to be called away from them.  He usually avoided Noelle at all costs anyway, and Nebra wanted to do nothing more than lounge out on the family’s private beach; where all Solid had done the entire time was complain about everything. Funnily enough the one thing Solid hadn’t complained about was Nozel leaving them to help his Captain in her ask.  Instead Solid had taken advantage of it, saying if Nozel could go off without them then he and their cousin Kirsch could leave Nebra, Noelle, and Mimosa at the Silva’s beach estate and come into town for the day.
That’s where Nozel was now, walking the bustling boardwalk of Raque with Captain Kess.  A part of him wondered why he and his Captain needed anything more than a working relationship; an all business approach had seemed to work well enough for Captain Pyter.  But since becoming Vice Captain, Nozel had discovered that, though not necessary, some kind of acquaintance outside of work was of helpful use for the productive betterment of work.  That’s not to say he was going to turn into Captain Kess and seek to be warm and inviting, encouraging his subordinates to come to him with their personal problems.  But he didn’t want to be like Captain Pyter had been either, completely distant and uninterested in his squad members troubles.
Yet even after coming to the conclusion that developing some kind of friendly acquaintance outside of work was of benefit, Nozel thought his Captain's request was too much.  More than that, he didn’t think he was anywhere near qualified to help her.  Personally, Nozel wouldn’t have even asked his closest friend to help choose a betrothal gift; though Fuegoleon likely would’ve invited himself. Yet here Nozel was, at Kess’ request, helping her pick out a betrothal gift for Jon when he barely knew Kess or the Azure Deers Vice Captain outside of them being capable Magic Knights.
Nozel cleared his throat to say as much for the second time when a small explosion from a balcony down the way had them rushing to see what happened.
101.3.3
Coughing, Teris blinked through the dust and tried to focus her blurred vision. Though the ringing in her ears muffled most everything out, she managed to hear someone talking.
The voice said.  “We only need the light magic user.”
Hearing the same, Venice shouted.  “Teris!  Get out of here!”
Teris was loathed to leave her friends.  But if all they wanted was her, chances were it would be safer for her friends and trapped civilians if she left.  Heart hammering, she thought of Yami.  If they wanted her, did that mean there were others looking for him?
Her friends were close enough that she could light travel them all. Hoping she didn’t burn them too badly, Teris attempted to light travel them all to the Green Mantis sparring field where she knew Yami to be.
A cold prickle ran down her spine when she wasn’t able to.  It was different from the negating effects of Calen’s magic.  This felt more like a constraining barrier.
She looked up and saw herself crouching twenty paces away.  Surreal as the sight was, Teris instantly realized Abril had used her transformation magic to take her form.  So whatever was stopping her from light traveling wasn’t blocking all magic.  That was good to know.
Teris shook her head at Abril trusting she would understand the message that they were stuck here.  Never did she expect Abril to answer Venice in her stead.
“I can’t.  They must have some sort of blocking thingy.”  Abril hollered.
Knowing Teris would never refer to a magical block as a blocking thingy, Venice's face scrunched up.  She turned, the two Teris’ giving her pause for a fraction of a second.  Seeing Bran near the real Teris, she gave a tight smile and nodded.
Eyes on Abril, Venice said.  “Guess we’ll have to make a run for it, Vice Captain.  On your order.”
Abril blinked.  As accustomed as she was to yelling about how she wanted things done, no one ever listened.  She finally understood Gendry’s reasoning for wanting to become a better Magic Knight.  It wasn’t because he had sold out to the system and wanted to move up the ranks.  It was because he wanted to be of help to his friends.
“Now!” Another female voice commanded.
The four Black Bulls turned to see Kess and Nozel.  Teris’ eyes widened, realizing what the newly arrived Silver Eagles were about to do.
“Move!” Teris ordered Venice and Abril as she grabbed a hold of Bran.
Thankfully Bran was already cloaked in mana skin.  It made Teris feel less guilty for shoving him over the broken balcony railing.  Without a moments pause, she jumped after him.
Nozel’s mercury rain could be made dense or sparse.  The one thing he could not yet do was direct it so as not to strike comrades who were in the field of the silver drops.  Kess used her shadow magic to form long arms that pulled and pushed citizens out of danger.  The Silver Eagles Captain created a shield that blocked one of Nozel’s liquid metal drops from hitting Venice.
“Nozel. Cover the other one.  Venice and I got Teris.”  Kess ordered, moving to Abril.
Nozel wasn’t sure if his Captain realized that wasn’t the real Teris, but he did.  Abril might be able to make herself look like Teris; but she moved nothing like Teris.
A magical eagle of mercury waiting to catch him, the Silver Eagle’s Vice Captain leapt over the balcony’s edge.  He saw Teris battling someone a couple blocks away and flew over to assist.  Knocking the man out from behind, Nozel made sure to cut the assailant with his mercury.  If the man managed to regain consciousness before things calmed and he was arrested, mercury poisoning would slow him down.
Pulling Teris onto the mercury eagle with him, Nozel took back to the air. “Where’s Bran?”
“I sent him to the nearest Sentries station to contact Headquarters for back-up.”  Teris answered.
Nozel shook his head.  “Doubt they’ll have better luck.  Captain Kess already tried to use her communication crystal to call for reinforcements.”
Teris cursed, having feared as much; but Bran was clever.  He would know a communications block when faced with one and order whatever Sentries had magic capable of flight or other swift travel to get outside of the block and contact Headquarters.  Till then--
Teris frowned.  “Where are you taking us?”
Eyes scanning for attackers, Nozel told.  “Outside of whatever block they have in place.  I’m guessing that’s why you haven’t light traveled to safety; because whatever they’re doing to block communications is also blocking transportation spells.”
“No!”
“No?” Nozel glanced at her, brow furrowed.
Teris shook her head.  “I mean, yes, they’re probably blocking transportation spells; I can’t light travel.  But you can’t take us away!  My friends--”
“You’re the one they want.”  Nozel cut in.
“And Abril was left behind looking exactly like me!  Nozel, we can’t run.  I’m their Vice Captain.”
Ignoring her, Nozel kept flying.  Did Teris think he wanted to leave the others behind?  It was his duty as a Magic Knight to protect the Clover Kingdom and its people, yet he had left injured civilians in need back there.
“Your Captain's back there.”  Teris tried.
“Captain Kess ordered me to look after you.”
“Nozel—“
“My Captain's on the scene therefore my orders superseded yours.” Nozel snapped.
In that second of distraction, Nozel didn’t see the whirlwind that knocked his magical eagle off course.  Crouching lower, Nozel widened his stance to keep his balance and fought to right their ride.
Unsteady from the tumbling eagle, there was nothing Teris could to when a lance of condensed air struck her.  The world spiraled at a dizzying speed as she was sent flying off the eagle and through the air. Barely cloaking herself in mana in time, Teris landed on a tiled rooftop and rolled.
101.3.4
Bran was desperate and torn.  He had to help his comrades.  He had to help Teris.  But his Vice Captain had given him clear instructions.  After realizing a communication block was in place, Bran had ordered the Sentries capable of quick magical travel to get out of the communications block and inform Headquarters of the attacks; while commanding the rest of the Sentries to help the citizenry to safety.
Riding with a Sentry atop a large magically created lizard, Bran looked over his shoulder at the battling team of Sentries he had left behind among the sand dunes just outside of Raque.  Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders.  He had now left not just his friend's and comrades, but two fights.
“If we come across more hostiles, you need to keep on going, sir.  I’ll do my best to distract and hold them off.”  The Sentry told Bran, sweating as he urged his magic to make the green glowing lizard move faster.
Though Bran understood it was because he was the only one who could give Headquarters more information about the attack; the thought of having to leave someone else behind made him feel even more like a failure.
Clutching the communication crystal the Captain of the area Sentries station had given him, Bran tried to think.  This wasn’t like the Wild Fire and battle with Sorcery Lances from a couple months ago.  Bran couldn’t assist his friends by battling these people with a deer. Even if a large sand cat or mid-sized sea fox had been near enough for his magic to seek out and control, it wouldn’t do much good. Not when the fight was in a large town.
Other than insects, Bran couldn’t control multiple creatures.  He needed something more; but he had nothing more.  All he could do was leave his friends and allies to fight, and hope he was able to fetch real help in time.
Yami had been wrong to show any interest and trust in him.  He was weak. Even with all his training and all he had done.  He was useless.
Tears stung Bran’s eyes at his own hated inadequacy.  Some Magic Knight he was, left riding with a Sentry for help.  With all the large fleet footed animals scared off further than his magics reach, he couldn’t even quickly get out of the communications block without assistance. He was undeserving of the promotion he got for his efforts a couple months back during the Wild Fire outbreak.  He didn’t deserve to be a Third Class Intermediate Magic Knight.  He didn’t even deserve to be a Magic Knight.
His grimoire, glowing and hovering beside him, suddenly brightened.  The pages flipped of their own accord.  A blank page came into being, added to the tome.  Writing sparked into existence as a new spell appeared.
101.3.5
Breath knocked out of her, Teris coughed.  Her rolled landing stopped at the feet of a scruffy faced, red haired man.  Sucking in a gulp of air, she squinted up at him.
“Teris Nova.”  The man said.
“If you think I’m Teris Nova you’re in for a disappointment”  Teris said, noting the sword of swirling air he held.
“We’ll sort out which of you is the real one later.  For now surrender and come with me, and I’ll see no one else gets harmed.”
“And who might you be?”  Teris asked.
“Commander Fanzell.”  Fanzell said.
It was then that Teris noticed the diamond on his grimoire.  Chastising herself for not catching it immediately, she said.  “You’re a Magic Warrior.”
“I am.”  Fanzell inclined his head.
Wondering how a team of Magic Warriors had gotten this deep into the Clover Kingdom, Teris said conversationally.  “You’re a long way from home.  Lost?  You know you could’ve simply asked for directions.”
Fanzell’s blue eyes narrowed.  He opened his mouth to tell her to stop wasting time when Teris shot out a beam of light.  The hit knocked Fanzell back to the next roof over.
Teris turned and sprinted in the direction of Nozel.  She had wondered at his delay and now saw why.  The Silver Eagle was still flying threw the air, only he was fighting a man on a cloud of smoke.  Teris lept to the next buildings roof.  As soon as she landed she was sent flying by a condensed burst of air.
Shaking his head clear, Fanzell rode a whirlwind after Teris.  It was a chaotic way to travel, the wind tunnel difficult to control.  As soon as he reached the roof she had landed on he hopped off the mini tornado and let it fade.
Pointing a magically created sword of wind down at her, Fanzell told.  “I have no wish to harm you.”
Teris rolled over with a groan.  Even cloaked in mana the hit had hurt. Fanzell watched her carefully, mindful of where Teris pointed her hands.
Acting as if she was still battling the pain and an unclear head, Teris quickly glanced at his stance.  A large undulating shadow crossed overhead.  It was a massive flock of seagulls, and they were descending.
Teris’ legs swung out just as Yami had taught her.  She cloaked her legs in mana at the last moment, least the cloak alert Fanzell to what she was doing.
As Fanzell fell, Teris jumped to her feet.
Stunned, Fanzell looked up expecting Teris to have made a run for it again. Instead he saw Teris’ fist right before it met his face.  Fanzell heard a crack.  Nose broken, his hands cupped his bloody face.  He cursed the pain and spotted vision, loosing sight of Teris.
Teris backed up as the mass of birds swooped and attacked Fanzell with claw and beak.  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered at the sight.  The birds were surely being controlled by Bran; but he was only able to control a single, what he called, higher mind creature at a time.  Not having the time to ponder it, Teris hoped this meant Bran was safe and would soon get passed the block to contact Headquarters.
She spun around and looked for Nozel.  She caught sight of him moments before he was knocked off his mercury eagle by the Smoke Mage.  The eagle swooped and struck the side of a manor house in an attempt to catch him.  Nozel, the eagle, and the Smoke Mage disappeared behind a canopy of trees growing on the hillside.
“Nozel!” Teris shouted and cursed when she tried and failed to light travel to him.  Leaving Fanzell to Bran and the attacking seagulls, she took off running and leaping from roof to roof.
101.3.6
Venice glanced to the door where Abril and two Magic Warriors had disappeared, cursing that she and Kess hadn’t been able to hold all of them back.
Kess used her shadow magic to shield Venice from a magical attack.
“Thanks.” Venice called, eyes darting back to the enemy.  She created a mirror that deflected an attack and directed it at one of the Magic Warriors.  “Congratulations, by the way.”
Kess scowled as she sent a shadowy mass of arrows at their attackers. “For what?”
“Your betrothal.”  Venice said.
“I don’t think now's the time for that.”  Kess snapped.
“Well.” Venice shrugged, trapping a Magic Warrior in a mirror, “seeing as we may die.  I didn’t want go to my grave having you think I was upset and not happy for you and Jon.  You are happy about it, right? This isn’t something your parents are forcing you to do?”
“Will you shut up!”  Kess shouted.
101.3.7
Running away from two Magic Warriors, Abril lept off a second floor landing. Her calculated drop was disturbed by two young boys.  She landed on them, the three of them falling to the ground.
Abril got up only to trip and fall when her foot caught on some billowy fabric.
“Ow! How dare you!  Let go!”  A silver haired boy snapped when Abril tried to use him to steady herself.
“Get off!”  Abril barked.  She kicked the billowy, over-sized sleeve that belong to the shirt the red haired boy was wearing.  The fine fabric tore as she ripped her trapped foot free.
“Will you—Teris?”
Abril blinked.  Precious seconds wasted as she stared at the red haired boy before remembering the form she wore.  “Yes?”  She said, uncertainly.
“It is I.  Kirsch.”  The red haired boy placed a manicured hand gently to his chest.
Moment broken, Abril shook off the torn piece of silk.  “Good for you. Now get off.”
“There she is!”  One of Abril’s pursuers pointed down at her.
Abril’s head darted up.  She rolled to her knees and pushed to her feet. “Nice to see you, Kirsch.  Bye.”
Only she didn’t get very far.  Feet tripping over the other boys legs, Abril fell again.  Looking up at boy, she recognized a familiar familial stare of cold blue eyes and distinctive silver hair.
“Silva.” Abril growled.
“You’re not Teris.”  Solid accused.
The echoing sound of footfalls descending the stairs rang loud in her ears.  Abril planted a hand on the silver haired boys shoulder and pushed to her feet.  “Don’t tell them that.  Stay outta their way and get somewhere safe.  Nozel’s orders.”
Solid blinked at the fake Teris who took off at a run.
Kirsch looked after her and declared.  “How utterly unbeautiful!”
Neither young man noticed one of the Magic Warriors break off from the others and stalk toward them.
101.3.8
Teris slid between Nozel and Lotus.  Nozel barely created a shield of mercury before a spatial attack hit, taking a large swath of mercury.
Lotus balked at the attack and turned.  Seeing Galleo, he put his hands on his hips.  “The order was to take her into custody.  Not wipe her from existence.”
“She’s still alive.  Isn’t she?”  Galleo said.
Lotus looked down at Teris.  “Sorry about that.  Care to surrender?”
Teris kicked out trying to trip the Smoke Mage the same way she had done with Fanzell.  Ready for either a physical or magical attack, Lotus saw the strike coming and hopped over her swinging leg.
“Figured that burly mate of yours would've taught you some--”  Lotus’ voice cut out.  He stumbled, Teris having kicked his left knee, hyper-extending it.
Nozel pulled Teris to her feet.  His knees trembled under his own weight, much of his mana having been drained during his fight with Lotus.
“You alright?”  Teris panted.
“Fine. You?”  Nozel asked.
“Not dead yet.”  Teris answered.
“Not funny.”  Nozel grumbled.  “That one has smoke magic.”
“Mine can spatial attack.”  Teris said.
“I noticed.”  Nozel replied.
“Care to switch?”  Teris asked, figuring Nozel could block a few strikes till help came, or his mana recovered enough for him to do something other than defense.  In any case he wasn’t going to last much longer if he continued fighting the Smoke Mage.  “Or, I could take them both on--”
“No.” Nozel said, sounding as fatigued as he felt.  Though he didn’t like the idea of not finishing a fight he started, Teris, though out of breath, seemed far from tired.  If anything she seemed excited by the challenge; that had to be Yami’s and the Black Bulls influence he though in disgust.  It was the fact that he had already lost so much mana in his fight with the Smoke Mage that decided it for Nozel. “I got the Spatial Mage.  Just—don’t get too close to the Smoke Mage.  He’ll siphon off your mana.”
Lotus smiled at Teris as Nozel stepped to the one called Galleo.
“I was beginning to wonder if I would ever meet the other half of the famous duo.”  Lotus said.  “Not much about work gets me excited. It’s more of a necessary hassle in order to keep the family housed and fed.  But when the order came for this…  I must admit to having some interest.”
“You’re the one Yami faced during the Battle at the Border.”  Teris surmised.  She wished Yami was here, and that they could still feed off each others mana the way they had back then.  “He said you talked too much.  Is that the only play you have?  Disarm and delay with mindless chatter till your magic renders your opponent useless?”
Lotus shrugged lazily.  “It’s worked for me thus far.  Why change what isn’t broken?”
Teris released bit of her mana, magically heating up the air around her to the point that it burned off Lotus’ smoke.  The man’s smoke had been so sparse and thin that she hadn’t been able to see it.  But she sensed it as her mana made contact with it and it burned it away.
His siphoning smoke burned off, Lotus gave a weak smile his brow beading with sweat at the heat radiating from Teris’ magic.  “My wife is pregnant with our second child.”  He told.
“I’ll see you have a quill and paper so you can write to them from your cell.”  Teris said.
“That would be appreciated.”  Lotus said, readying his attack.
“Stand down or these two die.”  Came a proud booming voice.
Teris turned, eyes widening.
“Solid!” Nozel blinked.  His magical shield lowered, spears of mercury dissolving.
Still wearing Teris’ form, Abril struggled against magical bindings. “You leave Kirsch and my Intended’s brother alone!”
“That’s not the real one.”  Galleo told his comrades.
The one holding Abril shoved her to the ground in disappointed disgust.
Fanzell dropped onto the scene, the whirlwind that brought him dissipating. Knowing the one he faced had been the real Teris by the light magic she had used, Fanzell ignored the bound woman his subordinate had pushed away, and took in the two other hostages.  He didn’t like that innocent children had been brought into the mix and threatened. But now that it was done he had little choice other than to use it.
Ignoring the stinging cuts and gashes the flock of attacking birds had left, Fanzell gave the Spatial Mage a directive look through eyes made red and swollen from his broken nose.  “Galleo.”
The man opened up a portal.
Fanzell turned to the real Teris.  “Step through and I promise these two will be left unharmed.”
“Your promise means nothing to me.”  Teris sneered.
“Brother!” Solid called, frantic eyes full of fear.
“It’s alright.  Stay calm and quiet.”  Nozel soothed.  He looked at Teris.  There was no way he was going to ask her to submit to the Magic Warriors commands; but these people had his younger brother and were threatening his life.
Teris glanced at Kirsch and Solid.  Even if Kirsch wasn’t an extremely distant cousin or Solid Nozel’s brother, she would have submitted to protect them.  She was a Magic Knight.  The lives and well being of the Clover Kingdoms citizenry went before her own.
The tension in Fanzell’s shoulders eased when he saw Teris’ shoulders sag in defeat.
“Fine. But you and the rest of your squad of Magic Warriors have to leave the Clover Kingdom without harming another person.”  Teris relented.
“No! I’m Teris Nova.”  Abril shouted.
“Enough.” Teris ordered.
Abril fell silent, wide eyes stinging with tears at her worry and failure.
Teris turned to Fanzell.
“You have my word.”   Fanzell swore.
Teris sighed.  She didn’t know what the Commander’s word was good for; but it was all she had.  Giving one last look at Abril, she ordered. “Don’t struggle or fight unless they break their promise.”
“Step through the portal.”  Fanzell told Teris, eager to see his mission complete and his squad safely out of the Clover Kingdom.
Teris moved as slowly as she dared, hoping that someone had gotten through the communications block and assistance would appear.
The mage holding Solid by the throat squeezed causing the young royal to gurgle.
“Solid!” Nozel took a step toward his brother.
Fanzell made a noise of warning halting Nozel in his tracks.  He scowled at his fellow Magic Warrior for choking the young innocent but turned the expression on Teris and instructed.  “Hurry it up.”
Nozel glanced at the open portal and Teris, gauging the distance.  Turning back to his brother, he told.  “It’ll be alright, Solid.  Just stay put.  Don’t do anything.  Listen to Abril until they leave and help arrives.”
Finding Nozel’s words curious, Fanzell turned to him.  But he was too slow. Teris had just stepped through the portal and Galleo had begun to close it.  Fanzell’s muscles tensed as the Silver Eagle rushed toward him.  But the Magic Knight had no interest in him.  Instead, Nozel sprinted passed him and dived through the closing portal.
Fanzell blinked at the portion of the mans royal blue cloak that laid on the ground where the portal had been.  If Nozel had acted a split second latter he would have been cut in half.
“Brother!” Solid yelled, hand outstretched.
“Damn it!  I’m sorry, Commander.  Shall I open it back up and pull him out?”  Galleo asked Fanzell.
Jaw tense, Fanzell tore his eyes away from the blue fabric.  So much for a seamless mission.  Not wanting to stay longer than necessary and chance facing further hostility, he told Galleo.  “No.  Inform the other teams we have our prey and get us out of here.”
“Sir.” Galleo nodded.
Fanzell looked back at the sliced off strip of fabric thinking that the Magic Knights were a loyal and amazing group.  It made him wistfully envious.  He doubted there was a single Magic Warrior that would take such a risk for one of their fellows.
“The teams are falling back and headed to the meeting point.”  Galleo informed his superior.
“Good.” Fanzell bent and picked up the blue fabric, wrapping it around his hand.
“What of these three?”  The Mage holding Solid and Kirsch asked.
“Bind the boys.  We’ll leave them and the Magic Knight to be found.” Fanzell said.
The Mage gripped Solid and Kirsch tighter.  “But, Sir--”
Voice dangerous, Fanzell looked at the man.  “I gave my word.  You’re not suggesting I go back on it out of sheer malice, are you?”
The Mage straightened.  “No, sir.”  He shared a look with Galleo the two thinking that the rumors were true.  Their Commander had begun to weaken.
Fanzell stepped in front of Abril.  “I need you to listen and relay a message to your superiors.”
“You give her back!”  Abril yelled.
Fanzell used his magic to take just enough air out of Abril’s lungs so she couldn’t speak but was still cognizant.  “Tell your superiors not to come for Teris Nova unless they want another war.  You will have your Magic Knight—s,”  He drew out the added ‘s’ of the amended plural, “back by the morning of the twelfth.  If you cross the border into our kingdom, King Morris will not broker a peace as he did last time.  He will not stop until your kingdom is purged of life and left in nothing but rubble and ash.”  He saw the fearful turn in the her eyes, and felt the same at such a prospect. “Remember.  The morning of the twelfth.  My King just wants some time with Teris Nova to understand how she works.  It is up to your kingdom to decide whether that is worthy of war or if you will keep the peace and wait four days.”
101.4
“Are you really that tired, Yami?” Jack taunted sending out a slash that sent the Black Bulls Vice Captain skidding backwards several meters.
“Hardly.” Yami grunted.
“He’s toying with you, Jack.”  Tobin called, from the sidelines.
“More like letting you get a couple shots in as apology for the beat down you’re gonna get.”  Yami corrected.
“Quit pretending your doing me any favors Bull Brains.”  Jack cawed sending out two more strikes.  “You’re faltering and trying to cover.”
“If I were faltering would I be able to do this?”  Both hands gripping the hilt of his katana, Yami sent down a slash of darkness that had the Green Mantis leaping out of the way.
Rolling on the ground, Jack squinted at the kicked up dirt.  He looked back to see downed trees and branches for more than six hundred meters.
Tobin stepped forward, worried Yami had lost himself to the Darkness.
Gendry’s head jerked back, eyes wide.  Was that what he would be facing every other Monday?  He knew Yami was powerful, but to send an attack like that during a simple sparring session…
Yami half lept, half rushed to his opponent and pointed his dark cloaked katana at Jack’s chest.  “You were saying?”
Jack looked up at the Black Bull and cackled.  “You’re insane!”
Yami lifted and sheathed the katana in its scabbard.  “Thought your bony butt would appreciate that move.”
Jack pushed to his feet.  “Let’s try it again!”
“No.” Yami shook his head.
Jack lifted his forearm, the magical scythe-like blade pointing at Yami’s neck.  “Try it again or I slice you up.”
“You’re both insane!”  Tobin declared, making his way onto the field. “Jack.  Stand down.”
Sounding bored despite the magical weapon at his throat, Yami waved Tobin off. “Let him be.  Beanstalk’s just embarrassed he lost.”  He met Jack’s eye, all but daring the man to make a move and prove him wrong.
Jack cackled again and lowered his arm.  “You act all tough, but one day I’ll slice you up, Yami.  Only I want you to be at your best when I do.”
Yami made a derisive noise.  “Yeah, yeah.  Keep saying that—Jack.” Yami’s tone changed as he said the name.  His right hand reached, gripping the hilt of his katana.  “Don’t stand down.”
Jack’s eyes turned to Yami’s right hand, thinking the Black Bull decided to continue the fight.  “What?  You--”
Yami pulled the katana free.  “A large group just appeared.”
“It’s probably some fellow Green Mantis’.  En and Nix are expected back from a mission.”  Jack said.
“No.” Yami said.
The Ki Yami suddenly sensed was far too near.  These people hadn’t walked or flown closer; but simply appeared as if portaled.  Never mind the fact that one of the mana sources coming from the group was massively powerful.  There was no way the person was a member of the Green Mantis, not even the squads Captain.
“It’s Alowishus.”  Yami cloaked his blade in darkness.
Alowishus Spade rose up out of the ground.  Yami sent out several consecutive slashes which were blocked by a swirling mass of earth.
“Quick on the attack.”  Alowishus praised, noting how fast Yami’s movements had become.  “Not exactly the act of a hero though.”
“I’m no hero.  I’m a Magic Knight Vice Captain and you’re a threat to this kingdom.  Jack, with me.  You two.  Give the others a harsh welcome.”  Yami told Tobin and Gendry.
“The others?”  Tobin echoed.  His face hardened at the sight of five others appearing through the overgrown tree line.  “Right.”  His size doubled as he stepped in the Agents of Chaos’ direction. “Gendry.  Let’s go.”
“They want Yami.  We should focus on getting him out of here.”  Gendry said, glancing at his Vice Captain as Yami and Jack charged and attacked Alowishus.
“And how do you suggest we do that without taking out some of their number?”  Tobin snapped.  “Don’t question the Vice Captain's orders!  He’s not Bronn.  Yami will do more than have words or a well placed fist if you disobey.”
Yami and Jack tag teamed.  One getting in close while the other made an opening.  Still it wasn’t enough.  Alowishus was just too strong. Yami shot a quick glance seeing Tobin and Gendry struggling and cursed.  He should have known better than to think the four of them had a chance.  The Negation Mage, Calen, was nowhere in sight meaning that Alowishus was secure in his victory and merely toying with them. That only served to make Yami angrier, his grip tightening on his katana’s hilt.  Exhaling, Yami forced his hands to loosen letting the rage filled emotion flow through him.  Acknowledging his anger while not focusing on it cleared his mind and centered his thoughts, emboldening his movements with decisive determination.
“Your getting your way, Jack!”  Yami lept back, trading places with the Green Mantis.  He planted his feet, gripping the katana’s hilt in both hands and raising it over his head.  “Let’s try it again!” He repeated Jack’s earlier words right before he brought the dark cloaked blade down.
Jack, who had been in front of Alowishus, between him and Yami, lept to the side at the last moment.  Despite being cloaked in mana the Green Mantis was dragged back a bit by the gravitational pull of the dark slash.  Then blown out and away as Yami’s attack hit.  Jack tucked his arms and tumbled, rolling up to his knees and skidding to a halt.
Seeing the devastation and power of the attack, Jack silently cursed; Yami must’ve just been funning with him in that first dark slash.  Wait for me, you over muscled idiot, Jack thought.  Don’t leave me in your shadow.  I’ll rip you to shreds if you do.
“Master!” The Agents of Chaos yelled.
Yami didn’t even pause to take in the damage he might have caused Alowishus.  He spun around to Tobin and Gendry, and commanded. “Tobin, go get back up.  Gendry, to me.”
Tobin turned and sprinted away before Yami had even begun to say Gendry's name.
“Oh, no you don’t.”  Misandre roared.  She created a portal, hands reaching through the open gateway.
Tobin didn’t slow, trusting his comrades to protect his back.
Snarling, Yami sent out a slice of darkness that cut Misandre’s hands off so fast and clean it took the woman  several heartbeats to realize what had happened.  The hands, once belonging to Bronn, dropped to the ground, never reaching Tobin.
Glaring at the Spatial Mage, Yami growled.  “Told you I would have those off you.  Now, I can be done with that bastard and he can rest in peace.”
“Yami...” Gendry breathed, face losing color.
Yami turned in the direction Gendry was staring, his own eyes widening. Now that just wasn’t fair, Yami silently complained.
Jack moved closer to the two Black Bulls.  “What is he?  An earth mage or something.”
Or something, Yami thought watching the earth swirl and condense to form an arm, replacing the one Yami’s massive dark strike had taken from Alowishus.
“Ash to ash.  Dirt to dirt.”  Alowishus intoned, stepping out of the spiraling earth as it dissipated and fell.  “The moral form is nothing but earth, and to the earth our weary husks eventually return.”
The solid ground the three Magic Knights were standing on became sinkhole.  Before they could do anything, they were trapped up to their mid-thighs and stuck.
“You have your late Vice Captain's hands back, Yami.  Now further prove your honor and come with me so your friends may be spared.” Alowishus stopped several paces in front of him.  “You need my help, my boy.  You won’t make it to the Ritual of Darkness without it.”
“I’m not your anything.”  Yami sneered.  He sent out three quick, successive dark cloaked strikes.
Alowishus held up a hand.  The dark slashes stopped and hovered.  Frozen still for a moment before they broke apart crumbling and fading to nothing.
Alowishus shook his head and sighed.  “Difficult child.  Come with me or your friends die.”
“Why not just take me by force?  You’ve done it before.  Could it be you’re afraid to awaken what’s inside me?”  Yami asked, feeling the Dark force begin to stir.
“You may not be the cleverest, Yami.  But you are a smart one.  Do you truly think I fear you?”  Alowishus asked, well aware Tobin had almost reached the Green Mantis’ base.
“Probably not, but you should.”  Yami said.
“Master.” Clint called.  “Misandre is losing a lot of blood despite Slade’s bindings.  If she’s to be able to get us out of here, we must leave.”
“Then leave.”  Alowishus snapped.
“Master! We can’t leave you!”  Clint expressed, face full of concern.
“Return to Sanctuary and await my arrival as you were told.  I will tend to Misandre after my return.  Till then she will simply have to endure.” Alowishus looked at his followers.  “Now.”
Reluctantly, Misandre opened a portal.  The gateway took a couple seconds to form and was slow to expand large enough for a person to fit through.
Yami couldn’t help a perverse smirk of achievement at seeing the Spatial Mages difficulty in creating something that should have been as easy as taking a step or any other function that occurred by mere will.
“You enjoyed that.”  Alowishus commented, watching Yami.  “My followers hardship.”
Yami eyes snapped back to Alowishus.  “With the amount of hardship she and the rest of you have put us through, it’s about time you got some in return.  I’m not going with you, by the way.  So you can crumble to dust and die.”
Alowishus frowned.  “Why must you make things so difficult, my boy?”
“I already told you.  I’m not your anythi—oui!”  Yami snapped, Jack and Gendry's muffled gags stealing his attention.
Dirt gathered and rose up from the ground, entering Jack and Gendry's mouths and nostrils.  The two coughed and gagged.  But it was no use, the invading earth was choking the life out of them.
“Stop it!”  Yami barked.  He tried to pull his legs free but the ground held firm.  He swiped at the swirling mass as it entered Jack, but the mass only reformed and continued to obey Alowishus’ will.
“Can’t you see that I am only trying to help you?”  Alowishus asked, tone wounded and sympathetic.  “If you go on like this, you will lose yourself to the Darkness inside.”
Yami glared murderously at Alowishus.  “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Eventually.” Alowishus admitted.  “Right now, we both want the same thing.  For you to fight this force off and remain yourself.”
Yami’s eyes flicked black.  Gritting his teeth he battle down the Darkness about to boil over.  “Let them go.”
“Will you come?”  Alowishus asked.
Yami saw Gendry's eyes roll and begin to glaze.  “Fine!”  He yelled. “You have my word.  Now let them go!”
With a victorious grin, Alowishus lifted his hand, palm up.  His fingers curled one after the other in a beckoning motion.
Yami watched the earth change its course and fly out of his friends lungs. Jack and Gendry sagged, gasping and coughing.
“Let’s go.”  Alowishus smiled.
Before Yami could say or do anything, he was swallowed up by the ground.
101.5
In the quietness after Nozel and Teris’ argument the Silver Eagle had difficulty meeting Teris’ hard, angry glare.
Once they had figured out they had been portaled to a mana blocked cell with no means of escape, Teris had chewed Nozel out.  In her fear for Nozel, Teris had called out his stupidity in following her through a closing portal.  Her concern for her friends, and worry over Fanzell keeping his word had her chastising Nozel for his lack of care in his duty to protect the citizens of the kingdom.
Nozel naturally snapped back.  No one questioned his dedication to his duty.  His brooding emotions over what he had walked in on three days ago, the image of Yami and Teris still haunting his mind, had Nozel responding harsher than intended.
Surprised by his vehemence but not one to back down, Teris had snapped back at him.  A heated argument had devolved from there.  When Nozel called out her hypocrisy, saying she would’ve done the same in his place, Teris had changed tactics.
Teris had been glaring daggers at him for what felt like forever, though realistically Nozel knew it couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes.  Much as Nozel hated being scolded like some child, Teris’ silent treatment was so much worse; leading him to ask.  “What would you have had me do?  Let you to come here alone?”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I would have had you do!”  Teris expressed. Her eyes drifted to the missing part of Nozel’s squad cloak for the thousandth time, her fear and anger at his foolishness reigniting.
“It’s always the same with you, isn’t it?”  Nozel complained.
“What’s that suppose to mean?”  Teris questioned, heatedly.
“You’re always judging me more harshly than anyone else.  As if I’m suppose to be some perfect person.”
“You’re the one who constantly presents yourself as a perfect person.” Teris accused.
Nozel sighed, this was getting them nowhere.  He looked about the cell, unable to look at Teris any longer.  “So what do we do now?”
“Why ask me?  What was it you said?  Your Captain's on the scene therefore your orders superseded mine.”
Nozel glowered and muttered under his breath.  “Ill tempered, hot headed brat.”
“What’s that?”  Teris asked, not having heard.
“I said you’re an ill tempered, hot headed brat!”  Nozel snapped.
“If that’s how you feel then why did you follow?”  Fanzell questioned, from the other side of the cell door.
Teris and Nozel turned to the Magic Warrior, neither having noticed his appearance in the heat of their argument.
“It sure would have saved us some trouble if you had stayed behind.” Fanzell went on, thinking of the discipline he would endure for letting the Silva Prince throw himself into custody; as if he had known at the time that the young man was heir to the Clover Kingdoms second royal House.
“If you’re looking for an apology for your troubles look elsewhere. You’re not getting one from us.”  Teris told.
“Figured as much.  Ill tempered, hot headed brat that you are.”  Fanzell teased.
“Only he gets to call me that.”  Teris said, head tilting toward Nozel.
“Who? Your Prince?”  Seeing the Magic Knights expressions, Fanzell nodded.  “Yeah.  I know who you are...  I do now.”  He mumbled.
“Then you know they will come for me.”  Nozel said.
“For both our kingdoms sake's, I hope not.  I hope those two kids and the Magic Knight that was trying to pass as you,” Fanzell inclined his head toward Teris, “relayed the message I gave, and your superiors believe and heed and my words.”
“What words were those?”  Teris asked.
“That you will be released and returned on the twelfth.”  Fanzell answered.
“You lie.”  Nozel challenged.
Fanzell’s eyes hardened.  “My King, unlike yours, doesn’t posture and lie.”
Teris wanted to ask about Yami but was afraid to.  As if bringing him up would remind their captors of his existence and endanger him.  She couldn’t sense Yami’s mana and hoped it was an effect of the spell put on the mana blocked cell.
“What is it you want?”  Teris asked.
“That I don’t know.”  Fanzell said, thinking he didn’t want to know either.
There were things going on in the Diamond Kingdom.  Rumors.  Whispers like the barest of breaths and breezes.  Things that hinted at augmented magic and mutilated grimoires.  Of groups of kids taken from the training grounds and never seen or heard of again.  To all this Fanzell turned a blind eye and deaf ear, not wanting to know even a hint of what might be going on.  His soul was tormented enough as it was.
“It doesn’t matter what threats you gave.  They will come.”  Nozel said.
“That’s what King Morris believes as well.”  Another voice said from down the hall.
Fanzell stepped back from the cell door and turned.  “Lotus.  What is this?”
“Sorry, Commander.”  Lotus apologized, expression truly sorrowful. “We’ve been told that His Majesty has decided to send the Prince back.”
Fanzell looked from Lotus to Galleo who walked behind the Smoke Mage.  “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”
“Why indeed?”  Galleo responded with a disapproving stare of accusation at Fanzell.
Fanzell swallowed, throat bobbing. There was only one reason why his superiors would skip informing him when he had just come from their offices.  The open display of lack in faith was chilling.
Fanzell cleared his throat.  “If you have orders, I suggest you carry them out.”
“I’m not leaving her.”  Nozel told, voice commanding in its volume and timber.
“You don’t have a choice, little Prince.”  Galleo smirked, clearly enjoying carrying out his commands.
“Morris doesn’t want a war.  He merely wants the girl.”  Lotus said.
It was difficult for Fanzell to tell, but it appeared as though Lotus didn’t care for this any more than he did.  Then again it could simply be Lotus’ usual tired lack of interest in anything.  It was hard to say.
“You can’t have her.”  Nozel told, positioning himself in front of Teris.
Fanzell noticed the way Teris merely stood by, appearing to have already accepted her fate.
“We already do have her.”  Galleo taunted.  “It’s you we no longer want.  Didn’t and shouldn’t have had you in the first place.” Though it had been his portal the young royal had jumped through, he cast an accusatory glance at Fanzell.
“Morris has been told that with just one of you taken, your King Agustus and Wizard King will wait until the twelfth to act, in hopes of staving off a war.” Lotus said.
“Told by who?”  Nozel questioned.
“Especially if we give back the heir to House Silva.”  Galleo put in.
“I want to know who told King Morris that.”  Nozel demanded.
“You will be portaled back to the gates of your Castle City.  Unharmed.” Lotus said, turning to Galleo at the final word as if to remind the man.
Seeing Lotus step near the cell door, Nozel readied his stance.  “Good luck with that.  The moment you open that door the mana block on this cell breaks and your--”
Teris placed a hand on Nozel’s shoulder causing him to fall silent.  He glanced back at her.
At her sad expression, Nozel questioned.  “Why are you looking at me like that?  We’re getting out of here.  Just don’t kill or knock out the Spatial Mage.  We need him to get us home.”
Teris hugged him, tightly.
Nozel was so shocked that he remained still and speechless.
“Tell Yami, Julius, and the Bulls not to do anything stupid.”  Teris breathed against his ear.
Nozel felt her give a humorless smile.
“At least not until they’ve clearly broken their word about returning me.”  Teris pulled away and meet his eyes.  “Then, if you want, you can do all the stupid things you wish to get me out of here.”
Nozel stared at her in confusion.  “Teris.  I’m not leaving yo--”
“It’s not your fault.”  Teris said over his words.  “You did all you could.  Going so far as to jump through a closing portal.  Stupid as it was.  Thank you.”
“Teris. It’s not over--”
Teris placed her fingers to Nozel’s lips, silencing him.  “I don’t want to be the cause of a war.  If you stay and get injured or killed while we’re trying to break free, there will be one.  House Silva’s pride will demand it.” Nozel gripped her wrist, tearing her tender fingers from his lips.  “I’m not doing this with you right now!  Get ready to fight!  That’s an order.”
He turned around to face the three Magic Warriors.  It was then that he remembered a magic blocked cell didn’t necessarily block outside magic from entering.
Teris stepped back.
Nozel’s head snapped back around to her, hand outstretched.  “Teris!”
Nozel disappeared, swallowed by Galleo’s portal. Teris’ eyes squeezed shut, willing herself not to cry.  Her trembling lips pressed together.  As fearfully angry as she had been at Nozel for his thoughtless action in following her; she had been selfishly grateful not to be alone.
“You’re a brave one.”  Lotus remarked.  “I wonder how I might’ve fared at the Battle at the Boarder if faced against you and not your counterpart.”
Thinking she was anything but brave, Teris asked.  “You’re not after him. Are you?”
“Yami?” Lotus questioned.  “Our only orders were to capture you, little miss.  Now, if you don’t mind.”  He dangled a spelled cuff that blocked magical transport.  “Put your hand through the bars.”
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I’ll be recovering from my monthly infusion of “poison juice” this week, so if you wanna make a blah week brighter and bring a smile to my face I’d appreciate some feedback.  Thanks!
Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.  Also, I’ll be taking a week off.
Next chapter snippet:
Tears prickled Teris’ eyes. Her entire body felt as if it were engulfed in Wild Fire.  The palm of her hand so hot and seared that it was incapable of feeling anything.  Anything other than constant dull burning pain with the occasional sharp, gut wrenching stab that kept her mind from being able to tune it out.
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kirkwallgremlin · 4 years ago
Note
“Having their hair washed by the other” for the prompts?
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@pinkfadespirit​ thank you both 💕 this has taken me a month (literally to the day, I found the original post!) and it ended up much longer than I originally planned 😅 it also probably needs some work and some more editing but my brain is determined to move on, so fingers crossed there’s no glaring errors <3 but ANYWAY here’s some more Carvistair 💙  it’s also connected to this fic!
Carver was in pain.
He tried to hide it but it was clear from the way he moved, not quite as fast as usual, favouring one side a little more. Alistair didn’t blame him. The injury had been nasty, nasty enough that he had worried that maybe, just maybe, this might be the time he lost Carver. 
But he hadn’t.
Carver was alive, he was ok, and he was finally able to leave the infirmary. 
“Careful,” Alistair warned as Carver stumbled slightly on the uneven floor. “You don’t want to hurt yourself more.”
“I’m fine,” Carver said and although Alistair couldn’t see his face, he knew Carver would be rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to fall and break my neck in my own bedroom.” 
Alistair chuckled, the laugh a little hollow, the idea of Carver being hurt yet again holding it back. 
“Imagine that,” he said. “The great Carver Hawke, defeated in battle, bested by a floor tile.”
Carver waved a hand at him, dismissive. 
“I’m not the great anything,” he said, but although the light in the room wasn’t the best, Alistair thought he might be blushing. 
“You’re one of the greatest things that’s happened to me,” Alistair said softly.
“You’re an idiot,” Carver said, but he was definitely blushing now. 
“And you kind of stink,” Alistair pointed out. “I know you couldn’t exactly wash while you’re trying not to die but phew. Those sponge baths only do so much.” 
“Are you just trying to get me naked?” Carver laughed, trying to hide the involuntary wince as he moved too suddenly. The wound was no longer life threatening but the healers had warned them both it would still take time to fully heal. 
“Well, it’s not like that’s hard. Usually something along the lines of ‘Carver Hawke, take off your clothes please’ works. Or ‘has anyone seen some very impressive arms lately?’. Or just taking off my own clothes usually does the trick too.”
“I wouldn’t complain about that,” Carver said but Alistair just swatted him on the arm, as gently as he could, still a little worried he would hurt him. He knew Carver would hate that, the idea of him fussing, worrying, but… 
“Shut up and get in the bath,” Alistair said, interrupting his own thoughts before they could begin to spiral again, nudging him towards the water he’d already had prepared. “You haven’t had a proper wash since you were hurt and I am not kidding about the smell.” 
Carver pulled uselessly with one hand at the bottom of his shirt, unable to properly lift it without the use of both arms. The healer had insisted that the movement in one remained limited, however, worried it would further exacerbate the wound. 
“Let me,” Alistair said, pushing Carver’s hand aside with his own as he pulled the loose cloth over Carver’s head. He couldn’t resist stepping in to give him a quick kiss as the fabric came clear, Carver’s mouth trailing after his as Alistair pulled back. He tossed the shirt to the side, returning to help Carver remove the rest of his clothing. He could feel Carver’s eyes watching him, burning into his skin as he moved.
There was something strangely intimate about standing there next to Carver, fully clothed in contrast to Carver’s nakedness. As his eyes met Carver’s, Alistair felt like he felt it too. The mood had shifted from the earlier joking tone, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  
“Should we undo these?” he asked, one finger trailing over the bandages, around Carver’s shoulder, held in place around his chest. 
The ugly marks where the creature’s claws had gouged through skin, muscle, almost into the bone, were dark against Carver’s skin as the bandages fell free. The healers had done what they could but anything else had to heal naturally, they’d explained. Otherwise they risked Carver losing full mobility in the limb. 
Alistair traced them silently with a finger, brushing as lightly as he could along the skin beside each mark, watching as his hand traced the shape of injury, following the curves of Carver’s muscles. One cut through the tattoo on his chest, splitting the bold inked lines in half.  
He glanced up to see Carver’s eyes on his face, watching wordlessly. 
“Does it hurt?” Alistair asked softly. 
“A little bit,” admitted Carver. “Not as much as it could.”
The water in the bath had lost some heat in the time it had taken to get them there but it was still more than hot enough to be comfortable. No doubt Carver would have been fine climbing in by himself but Alistair helped him anyway. No point letting him slip in such an easily avoidable situation, not when he was already hurt.
As Carver sank into the warm water, he let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering closed in a way that Alistair wasn’t sure was completely intentional. 
“Are you ok?” Alistair checked as he perched on the side of the bath, concerned the reaction was pain and not contentment. 
“Yeah,” Carver sighed, sinking further down into the water. His eyes closed again, properly this time, as Alistair ran his fingers through Carver’s thick hair, hoping to help him relax into the warmth.
He reached for the clay jug that stayed near the bath, reaching around Carver to fill it. A thought crossed his mind as he looked at Carver’s closed eyes, taking only a moment of hesitation before he acted. 
The water cascaded over Carver’s head with a splash and Alistair jumped back out of reach, clutching the now empty jug as Carver spluttered. 
“You ass,” Carver said with a rude gesture, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. Alistair tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh at his indignant look as Carver muttered something about revenge and Alistair being lucky he couldn’t move properly. 
“Here, I’ll help properly this time,” he said, stepping closer again, Carver watching his every move warily. This time though, he emptied the refilled jug carefully, slowly tipping the water over Carver’s hair until it was wet without him having to bend to submerge his head. 
“I’m not complaining about your sponge baths but I’m already feeling less grimy and gross,” Carver said, pushing back the wet hair that had slipped back down, sticking to his face. “Can you pass the soap?”
Alistair grabbed the soap but as Carver reached for it, he brushed his hand away. 
“Let me,” he said, setting the soap to the side as he refilled the jug. Carver looked at him dubiously as he emptied it once again, just as carefully as the previous one.  
“I can take care of myself,” he objected. 
“I know,” Alistair said, running his fingers through the wet strands, the tips of his fingers separating strands. HIs fingers scratched over Carver’s scalp, trying to make sure every part of his hair was wet. Hair was something hard to clean when somebody was lying in a bed, and as clean as it looked, Carver’s was probably still full of the dirt and sweat and blood that had marked the rest of that day. 
At first Carver tensed, but as Alistair’s fingers worked, tracing circles, starting small and growing larger, he relaxed into the touch, his eyes drifting closed again. 
“You awake?”  Alistair asked softly, checking. He didn’t want to send Carver to sleep in a bath and have him accidentally drown there, not on his watch, even if he was right beside him. Carver made a soft affirmative noise, not quite actual words, as Alistair’s hands continued their slow and steady movements. 
Normally water alone would be enough but he knew how long it’d been since Carver’s hair had been cleaned, the condition he’d been in when he was first injured, sweaty, tired, covered in Darkspawn blood, his own blood. The soap lathered quickly, the white foam disappearing beneath his hands. Carver’s eyes stayed closed as the warm water washed away the remnants, taking the dirt, the blood, the stress with it. 
“You’re spoiling me,” Carver said. He opened his eyes, a cheeky smirk on his face. “Join me?”
Alistair laughed and Carver raised an eyebrow at him. 
“I could try,” Alistair said, “but in case you haven’t noticed, they make baths for people… smaller than us and usually only one of them. If I tried to get in, we’d probably get stuck. Imagine that, the Warden Commander needing to find us. They’d have to run a rescue operation. Although I’m sure there would be a lot of people willing to come and help us out of that ridiculous situation.” 
“Idiot,” Carver muttered, but the affectionate smile on his face betrayed the words. 
“Maybe so but I’m your idiot,” Alistair said. He emptied the final jug over Carver’s hair, making sure all traces of the soap were gone. “You’re stuck with me now. And hopefully not stuck in a bath.”
“Yeah.” Carver’s smile lingered. “I’m stuck with you.”
Alistair pushed Carver’s hair, dark and wet, back off his forehead, planting a on his damp skin. 
Are you going to give me the soap now?” Carver asked, still sounding half asleep. 
“Nope. You need to rest your arm. Healer’s orders.”
Carver grumbled something barely audible, something that seemed to be about how Alistair wasn’t a healer, but he didn’t object any further as Alistair reached for the soap.
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siren-queen-imagines · 5 years ago
Text
Don’t Wanna Lose You
I’m going through the Wayback Machine and bringing over some fics that I wrote when I was imaginingwwesuperstars!! Well, at least what they have archived…and has been edited since the original post…I hope you enjoy!!
Masterlist
**SMUT WARNING**
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You sat in the bed of your hotel room, reading a book. Roman was in the shower so you decided that you were gonna wait it out. The way his match went tonight, you had planned to jump him because…just…damn. Then again, it’s not like you need a reason to jump his bones.
You heard the water turn off and the shower curtain open. You felt yourself getting giddy. It had been a little bit since you’ve had him all to yourself and you missed him. But you tried to play it cool, deciding to continue reading as he walked out of the bathroom. You looked up to see that he was dressed to go out.
“Where are you going?” You asked curiously as Roman sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his shoes.
“I was gonna go out with some of the guys for a drink.” Roman asked, never bothering to throw a glance your way.
“Ro, I thought we were gonna just stay in tonight.”
“We were but then my cousins texted me saying they were in town with Dean. Figured we could go see them.”
“No. I’m good.” You then went back to reading your book for real, with the roll of your eyes.
“What’s with the eye roll?”
“It’s nothing.” You replied irritably.
“You know what, I’m not in the mood for this tonight.”
“Fine. Then just go.”
“What is your problem, Y/N? You were fine literally moments ago.”
“Then maybe you should think about what was said those moments ago that made me like this.”
“What, so you’re mad about me going out with my cousins and Dean?” You shrugged your shoulders. “You got a problem with them all of a sudden?”
“My problem isn’t with them, Roman.”
“Then what is your problem?”
“You, okay?” You closed your book and dropped it on the nightstand next to you before crossing your arms in front of you. “You’re my problem. You’ve been neglecting me. You have been for some time now.”
“Neglecting you? The fuck you talking about?”
“When was the last time we went out together?”
“A few days ago.”
“Yeah…with Rollins and the New Day.”
“I remember you having a good time that night.”
“I won’t lie. I did. But this is the first time I’ve gotten to spend time with you in a while. Just us.”
“Oh come on.” Roman turned away from you, walking to the door. “That’s not true. You’re overreacting.”
“Am I? Think about it. When was the last time you and I have even done anything more than sleep in the same bed together? When we travel, it’s with others. We get to the arena, you have stuff to do or I have something to do. I haven’t really had time with you these past few months unless I’m sharing you with somebody else. Or you just leave me all together. I feel ignored a lot of the time, Roman. I mean, we haven’t even been here a whole 20 minutes before you talk about leaving again.” You voice got calmer as you kept going, Roman having stopped with his back to you. “All I’m asking is that—”
“Look. You are completely blowing this way out of proportion. I haven’t been ignoring you. Your problem is you want to spend all your time with me and I can’t do that.”
“I’m not asking to spend every waking moment together, Roman.”
“That’s not what it sounds like to me. Look, I’m not doing this tonight.” Roman scoffed as he opened the door and walking out, slamming the door behind him.
You sighed to yourself to keep the tears at bay before you punched the pillow right next to you.
=================================
“What’s the matter, uce? Something’s been bothering you all night.” Dean asked Roman.
“It’s nothing, man.” Roman replied, taking a drink from his mug.
“Come on. I know when something’s up. Talk to me. Is everything okay with Y/N?”
Roman looked at his watch. It was 12:30 in the morning and his cousins had already gone back to their rooms and to their wives.
“No.” Roman took another drink. “She says that I’m neglecting her.”
“Really?” Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “She finally told you, huh?”
“You knew?”
“Of course I knew, Rome. I mean, you guys started dating a few years ago…she’s a sweet girl. You really think she and I wouldn’t become friends in the process?”
“She said that she feels like I’m ignoring her.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“She isn’t?”
“No. Think about these past few months. In reality it’s more than a few months, but really think about them, Rome. I’ve seen it too. You guys get to the arena, you go your separate ways. She’s gone for a kiss more than once but you just don’t see it and you blow her off. I mean, all the way up to earlier this year, every time someone invited you out you would at least turn down a few of them to spend time with your girl. But…you don’t do that anymore. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s put up with it for this long.”
“I’ve been feeling like I spend too much time with her.”
“You haven’t. You’ve been spending all you time away from her. I know moving in together has got you a little spun out, but you have been neglecting her, man. I mean…do you even love Y/N anymore?”
“Of course I do, man.”
“You have a funny way of showing it. If you keep treating her this way, you’re gonna lose her.”
It was like suddenly his life flashed before his eyes. He then saw the moments in his head the times you tried to kiss him, but he just walked away from you; he saw when you had gotten dressed up to go somewhere, but then he blew you off for his friends; he then saw how things unfolded between you two earlier tonight…how the hurt shone in your eyes but you still tried to remain strong.
Oh god…he was a fucking asshole.
Dean was right…moving you in had him a little spun out but he didn’t think it would be that bad. It shouldn’t have been that bad in the first place because you guys have been together for 3 years. He didn’t even realize what he was doing to you. He really was trying to take time for himself to sort his feelings and in turn, he was hurting you in the process. That was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.
“I gotta go.” Roman said, getting up.
“Go make it right, brother.” Dean replied, patting him on the shoulder as he got up himself to head back to his room.
=================================
You were sitting on the balcony, looking up at the stars as you relaxed in a pool chair the hotel had out there. You couldn’t help but think if this relationship was gonna work out for you anymore…not if Roman continued to act the way he did. But then again, you’ve been dealing with it long enough. Maybe it was time for you guys to call it. You knew you would have to start moving out the moment you got home. Renting a storage space wouldn’t be too bad until you could find your own place.
You heard the sliding glass door open, breaking out of your thoughts.
“Roman, we need to talk.” You started when you saw him.
Roman immediately helped you to your feet and pulled you into his arms. You were shocked for a moment, your arms at your sides.
“I was wrong, babygirl. So wrong.” Roman whispered into your ear. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it and I have nothing better to tell you than I’m sorry. There is no excuse for it. I promise you that I will do better. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
You stood there for a bit as you soaked in his words. Holy crap, he sees what he’s been doing? You felt Roman’s arms beginning to loosen up on you when you realize that you hadn’t hugged him back. Before Roman could pull away from you, you wrapped your arms around him. You heard Roman sigh as he kissed the side of your head and buried his face into your hair.
“What changed?” You asked, keeping Roman in your arms but pulling away to look him in the eyes.
“I talked to Ambrose. He made me see what I was doing. I’m stupid, Y/N. So stupid. Then I thought about what you said earlier.” Roman pushed some hair away from your face. “I knew it wouldn’t be long. I love you and I don’t know if I could handle losing you.”
You looked him the eyes for a moment. You were relieved to find the sincerity in them. You then rested you head on his chest and closed your eyes. You felt Roman kiss the top of your head.
“I love you too, Roman.” You finally said, breaking the moments silence between you two.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Roman mumbled before pulling away momentarily.
His thumb traced your jaw line before he leaned in a kissed you. The kiss was sweet and gentle, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair. He backed you towards the chair he pulled you from. His hands went to the back of your thighs and he lifted you up, your legs locking around his waist as he turned around and sat in the chair.You pulled Roman’s hair from his hair tie and ran your fingers through it. You then felt Roman’s fingers on both your shoulders, lowering the spaghetti straps of your top down. You rested your cheek on the top of Roman’s head as he placed gentle kisses on your shoulders. He then pulled your shirt down a little more, exposing your breasts to the cool night air.
“Y/N…” Roman panted as his forehead rested against your chest, his hands moving from your waist to cup your breasts. “I need to be inside you so bad.” He then went to kiss your right breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple.
“Here?” You asked breathlessly.
“Right here, babe. And we have to be quiet unless you want people to hear you.”
Roman helped you to your feet. You began to remove your shorts while he undid his jeans and pulled them down with his briefs. Sure enough, little Ro was standing at attention. He sat back down on the chair before you straddled him once more.You positioned him at your entrance before slowly sinking down on him. God, it had felt like forever since he’s been inside you…you missed him. Roman growled when he was fully sheathed inside you. You began a slow pace as you continued to adjust having him inside you. You were mindful to keep your sounds and noises to a quiet minimum.
Roman’s hands wandered to your back as you picked up your speed. His short fingernails gently grazed your spine and lower back, urging you on. It had been long enough that he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted to. But once he was good to go again, he was gonna pound you into that mattress later. Shit, the thought of that turned him on further, he felt himself getting closer and closer.
“Fuck, baby.” Roman mumbled, his jaw clenching before he continued. “I’m not gonna  last long.”
You were glad to hear that because you weren’t either. You picked up the pace once more, riding him as your orgasm continued to build. You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back your moans. Roman’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. His face rest on your breasts as you rest yours on the top of his head. Your fingers tugged on his hair as you were about to cum.
“Roman…Roman…” You whimpered.
“Cum for me, Y/N…come on, baby.” He breathed, turning his head to bury it in between your breasts to muffle any noises he might make.
Your body quivered and shook as you let go. You used the top of Roman’s head to muffle your moans. You felt Roman’s warm seed fill you as he grunted into your breasts. You continued to ride him until you were sure he was finished.
You both remained in place for a moment as you worked to catch your breaths. You pulled away to look him in the eyes.
“I love you, Roman.” You told him, pushing some hair away from his face.“
I love you too.” Roman replied, pulling you down for a kiss. “I’m gonna change, okay? I promise.”
You smiled at him and kissed him again. The kiss deepened once more and you felt Roman start to get hard again while he was still inside you. Roman stood up and wrapped your legs around him for you as he walked back into the hotel room.
“Where are we going?” You asked with a knowing smile.
“The bed. I need to show you exactly how sorry I am.” He smiled back at you.
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himooonlight · 4 years ago
Text
who are you? pt. 4 (reggie x reader)
pairing: reggie x reader
word count: 4.4k
plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him
warnings: confusion? EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE THOUGH, I PROMISE
A/N: look who is back :) I wanna thank @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic for being so sweet to me and giving me such a thoughtful feedback about the story. that gave me the motivation I needed to keep writing - so keep in mind that comments help the writer, ok? just hope I’m not disappointing anyone with this chapter by the way… and sorry again for taking forever to update.
here's chapter 1, chapter 2 and chapter 3
it’s @carolineeforbes' gif, by the way; I’m not sure how to add that “gif by…” at the end (cause I’m old and I know nothing about html)
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As soon as the last class of the day ends, I make my way to Julie's locker so we can go to the cafe together. I haven't seen Reggie all day, but something tells me he's just as nervous as I am. Waiting for her, alone, I let my mind go to him, remembering his sweet smile.
  There's something about him that gives me peace. It's not explainable or rational; it's just there. An invisible feeling that makes me ecstatic, blissful because he exists. And if that's not love, if it's something else, I can accept and live with it knowing that he taught me how to feel visible, alive.
  Ironically, he is none of those things.
  - Y/N, hi! - Nick's voice greets me. - How are you?
  Nick is alone too. His blue eyes are darker than usual and his aura makes me shiver - more so than yesterday, his presence is heavy and disturbing. And I can't understand why. His clothes are darker than usual and even his cute freckles look more aggressive, if that's possible.
  Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can almost swear I see the own devil in the smile on his face. His whole body looks stiffer and more brutal, making me step back mindlessly and look around for somebody that could confirm that his eyes are actually trying to hurt me.
  I'm out of my mind, for sure.
  - Hey, Nick. - I say. My voice is breathy and low, matching my demeanor. - I'm alright. How about you?
  I don't really wanna know about him and it's borderline annoying how my body is responding to the situation. My hands are shaking so much I have to hide them in my pockets. When my eyes start watering, I understand just how terrible the situation really is.
  - Why are you so afraid of me, hum? - There's an eerie glow in his eyes that can only be described as demonic. Nick is following my every move, almost like he is trying to control my actions or read my mind. When he gets closer to me and lets his thumb meet my right cheek, a single tear rolls down, to what he smiles. He's enjoying the situation. - It's just me.
  It's not him. It's not Nick.
  I don't know what is going on, but this person is evil.
  I can smell Nick's breath and see it too. It's purple and dense and I'm for sure out of my mind, because I can see it all around us as if trying to suffocate me.
  The purple mist swirls around my head and vanishes quickly while my tears dry. Nick's smile disappears and his stare holds something heavy like betrayal. He looks disappointed, annoyed, angry, all together.
  - I can't believe this. - He murmurs, stepping back. The boy is imitating a lost puppy or a spoiled kid that isn't getting what he wants. - Your soul is…
  Nick looks so shocked and that gives me strength. The sudden vigor allows me to break our eye contact and recompose myself, just in time to blink and get an image in my head like a daydream. But it wasn't a dream or my imagination; it feels like a memory, just like what I experience with Reggie.
  I see a big stage. The curtains are embroidered with CC's and everything is either black or gold. There's a tall man standing in the center, with the same aura as Nick, and the same expressive eyes. He's screaming for attention and validation.
  The man is wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. I can tell he's narcissistic and have some kind of power over people, because nobody around the place is looking directly at him. They all look scared and conflicted; probably because he demands attention but makes them feel bad about it.
  Someone opens the curtain a little bit more and I can see a big glass box filled with water. Three assistants wrap his hands and feet with chains and when he sees me staring, a devious grin spreads across his face, making me shiver and get an urge to run.
  I manage to do that, going back to the school halls in real life, ignoring all that happened in my mind just seconds before.
  Nick is nowhere to be seen and my body is not shaking anymore.
  - Hey, Y/N. - Julie says. Flynn smiles at me and I try my best to do the same, but I'm still overwhelmed by the feeling of being controlled. - Are you alright? Not to be that person, but you look like you've seen a ghost.
  Flynn laughs while her friend winks at me, lighting up the mood. Still, I can't wrap my head around what just happened. I feel sick to my stomach, dizzy and they probably can see it in my face that I'm not fine.
  - Don't know if Reggie said anything to you, but they talked and Alex doesn't feel ready to go to the coffee shop yet. He's afraid that they're going to move on and disappear and he's not sure if that's what he wants now. - She explains. Flynn nods her head the whole time, agreeing with everything Julie says and making me wonder how much she knows. Probably everything. - But, really, are you feeling ok?
  - I think I just need to go home and sleep a bit. - After trying my best to assure them I'll be fine, I start making my way to the parking lot. We're not the best of friends, so I don't feel comfortable explaining anything, especially when Reggie's nowhere to be seen. - I'll see you tomorrow, ok?
  I can't find my sister's car when I get to our usual spot, so I just stand there, calming my senses and looking at the sky. It's a beautiful day with a few clouds and it's impossible not to find solace in the pretty blue infinity.
  The clouds are moving in all its glory. The cumulus clouds are very fluffy and not very high in the sky, letting me notice their cotton-like appearance distinctly. It's so peaceful that I can't stop my mind from wandering to Reggie and that same feeling of harmony and happiness that he makes me feel.
  - Julie told me you were not feeling well. - The boy startles me, making me jump and almost scream. - Did you fall? Did you eat something bad? Maybe you should go to the hospital. I should know that considering I died from a bad hot dog. What did you have?
  His wide eyes and fast words make me laugh, forgetting everything that happened previously. He tries to touch my hand and signs when that doesn't happen. I do the same, regretting momentarily the day I met him.
  I know I love Reggie. That feeling, however, is like getting tickled and laughing out loud. For someone just passing by, it might look like we're having fun, but it's also painful and excruciating. A smile doesn't necessarily means joy; sometimes it's just a mechanism to stay positive. And positivity is very important when the person you love is a ghost.
  - I'm alright now, don't worry. - In cue, Daisy arrives. - Wanna go home with me? - I ask, covering my mouth with my hand, pretending to yawn. He follows me without answering and the way Day looks at me as soon as I get inside tells me that she believes her little sister is simply happy with the tickling. - Hey.
  - Well, well, well. Look who is in love.
  Reggie sits in the backseat and it's inevitable to feel nervous. It doesn't really matter that Day can't see him; the only important thing is that we haven't talked about feelings yet and now he knows how I feel.
  He knows what I feel: love.
  Suddenly I am drowning in dichotomy, a bipolar feeling of relief and nervousness. 
  I am relieved that the "decision" is no longer in my hands.
  It's like that child's game, hot potato. The ball would pass in a circle and if the song ends and you are holding the object, the responsibility to run after someone is in your hands. Every time I held the ball as a kid, I felt excitement, anxiety and nervousness and yet I still enjoyed playing the game, even with the risk of losing. 
  Reggie knowing how I feel is basically that same feeling of not knowing whether I would have to run or be disappointed and relieved at the same time for not being chosen. The next step is his to take; to either stop the music or continue singing.
  - Sis? - Daisy's voice brings me back to the car and all the consequences. - Are you ok?
  - Yeah, yeah. Just a bit nervous about some school stuff.
  I met Reggie in school, so it's not exactly a lie. Josh's voice rings in my head saying "I ain't calling you a truther" and making me wish I could tell everybody about how I met Reginald and how much I like him.
  - We went from love interest to school project. Y/N, we really need to talk. - Reggie's remarks make me roll my eyes. - What am I to you? And you don't need to be nervous, darling. It's just me.
  It's just me.
  Same words that left Nick's lips.
  I feel shivers running down my spine, remembering everything. His gaze, the strong perfume and my own thoughts all over the place. What about my soul? What about me that scared him so much? And that stage? The magician?
  Too many questions for someone that just wanted a few answers.
  - Reggie, please, we'll talk later.
  Oh, no.
  Daisy is looking at me like I am crazy and she's possibly right. There's no way I am not losing my mind by now.
  - Who is Reggie?
  Oh, no.
  - Reggie?
  - Yeah, you just said his name. Is this part of your school thingy? - She bounces like a little kid, making me breathe normally. She's not about to ask if I lost my mind, great. - Practicing some of those insanely creative theatre games? How does this one work?
  Oh, yes.
  - I have to create this character, right? - Reggie scoots closer to listen to my explanation, sitting on the edge of the seat. I can see him through the rearview mirror and he has a curious expression on his face. A very cute expression that makes me smile. - For the whole day I have to talk to him, Reggie, like he really exists. - Daisy beams and that gives me courage to continue. - I get extra points if I get to make somebody else speak and interact with him, so do you wanna try?
  I really ain't a truther.
  The thing with my family is that they are incredibly supportive, especially Daisy and my dad. My sister's bad temper is not even half as intense as her supportive-big-sister-mode. Probably because of that that I don't have many friends - because it is very easy to get lost in my family's love. They make me feel like I don't really need other people, like nobody else would be as important as them, so why try? I've always had friends here and there, but opening up and trusting is a whole different story.
  Maybe that's why Reggie had such an impact on me; because he made me realize that the world is bigger than my little bubble, than what meets the eye.
  - I need to know a little more about this Reggie dude. Characteristics, please.
  - Reggie, what do you want me to tell her? - I look at him, turning my head to face his way and the view makes my heart melt: he's staring at us with thankful eyes.
  The boy is on the verge of tears. Happy tears, apparently. It feels so heartwarming to see his big white smile and his freckles from up close.
  - I… I don't know. What do you want her to know about me?
  - Well, Day is more than just my sister. - I reply while Daisy just smiles, keeping her attention on the road. - She's my best friend, so I'd like her to know everything about you. I know she'll like you anyways cause you're both sweethearts. You two like Star Wars and she says she hates puns, but that's a lie. And you're always making jokes and being adorable, so that's a start, right? You'll get along just fine.
  - What about appearance-wise? Is he cute? - My sister's question has Reggie laughing and blushing. Their interaction is so cute and the tears on Reggie's eyes say the same.
  - He has deep blue eyes, a pointy nose and some freckles that look like the galaxy. For all I know he could have the whole bear keeper constellation on his face, I swear. - The way he observes me speaking foolishly about him is encouraging and sweet. He seems to be admiring me too, intrigued by the way I describe his features.
  - Bear keeper constellation, hum? He should watch out for poisoning then.
  My sister giggles scares the hell out of me and by Reggie's silence and wide eyes, he's panicking too.
  - What? - I mumble.
  - Icarius? The wine story? - She tries explaining, but seeing my confused semblance, she continues. - Icarius died because some people thought he poisoned them with wine. They didn't understand alcohol back then and well, he died for nothing. Poor guy. After all, a god really did trust him with the wonders of wine because he was such a great person and he basically died for that. For being too good. - She shrugs like it's nothing, like I am not surprised and startled by the coincidence. I never heard that story in my life. - But what else? I wanna know more about him.
  Reggie shakes his head and closes his mouth, blinking a few times in the process. I take my time to study him once again, ignoring my own surprise.
  - He's funny, positive, loves animals and can be a bit of an airhead, but that's cause he's very creative and imaginative. He is a bassist, likes flirting and I'd say he uses jokes as a way to cope with sadness.
  I can't look at him while saying those things, so I fix my posture and stare at the car in front of us. It's too personal and I don't know how he truly feels about me and the way I read him. After all, I officially met him yesterday and every single dream could be wrong. My version of him could be wrong.
  I could only hope I was right and he would keep singing in that silent game of hot potato.
  - The only important question left is: what's his Harry Potter house?
  And that's how we spend the rest of the day watching Harry Potter, with Reggie sitting beside me with his eyes glued to the tv screen. When Chamber of Secrets ends, my parents get home and Day quickly explains that we'll be having company for dinner. Reggie doesn't leave my side for a second and even though I could speak to him when my sister was around, my parents might think differently, so I don't really hold my breath.
  - We have company for dinner, dad. - Daisy says.
  - Oh, really? - My dad asks. He's already in the kitchen, so we follow him there. Reggie sits on the counter while Day helps with the food and I just stand by the door, looking at my family. - Who is coming?
  Daisy does something funny with her eyebrows, teasing me, and I roll my eyes, because that's very rich coming from her. Reggie is silent, just studying our reactions and conversations, so I decide to imitate him, sitting by his side. I want him to feel included in the family, like he belongs there, like he is welcome in our house.
  - Dad, this is my friend Reginald, but you can call him Reggie. - I say, pointing at the boy next to me. I know they can't see him; it would be impossible considering he is dead. Reggie's eyes, however, beg for love and appreciation, so I don't mind making a fool of myself if that means I get to make him feel comfortable. - He'll be eating dinner with us tonight, if that's alright.
  - Well, sure. - My father answers, with a smile on his face and no second thoughts whatsoever. - We're happy to have you here, Reggie.
  Daisy winks at me and Reggie is astonished with my dad's answer, especially because he really is looking and speaking in his direction, to the place I pointed. That probably makes him feel alive, but I don't really have time to say anything else because soon enough my dad walks up to him and goes for a handshake. My dad doesn't wait for Reggie's hand to shake it, but the boy doesn't mind and lets his transparent skin go through my dad's solid body, trying any kind of connection he can.
  - Cold hands, hum? But are you really just friends with my daughter? Cause I don't recall any friends staying for dinner before.
  It's not really a surprise that my father would participate in any kind of experiment, project or whatever he thinks this is; his trust and love for me are the only irrational part of him and he is very good at that - trusting me with his eyes closed. As Daisy explains everything to him, his tired figure just keeps cooking dinner and making a few questions here and there. He starts with the basic "how was your day?" and moves on to "bassist that loves country music? That's new. I would like to listen to your music, Reggie".
  He's not weirded out by the situation and that makes me wonder if I should tell him the truth. Or at least half of it. Maybe he wouldn't understand everything, but at least I'd feel lighter. When he starts telling us the positive stories that he's seen in the hospital today, Reggie interrupts his monologue by leaving the kitchen, so I follow him.
  - What's wrong? - I ask, indicating my room. He goes in and I close the door. - Is everything okay?
  He doesn't answer for a moment. He just stands there, looking out the window. His torso is covered in the same black leather jacket that I've seen so many times before in my dreams and his hair looks perfect. He looks perfect. Even when he sniffs and starts crying.
  He looks perfect and I'm freaking out.
  - I am so sorry for today, Reggie. It was never my intention to make you feel bad, I swear. That doesn't mean you shouldn't feel whatever you're feeling; I'm just justifying myself really. - I start mumbling, letting the words come out of my mouth with no filter. - You don't have to stay, if you don't want to. You can leave and we can talk tomorrow... I don't know.
  He's not singing in our game of hot potato. Reggie's sad and it's painful to see him like that, crying, perhaps even regretful. After the heavy day, I can't stop myself from crying too, feeling unwanted, wrong.
  My heart hurts.
  My heart hurts for him, almost like we share the same body.
  - I forgot how much I missed being alive. - He says, letting his fingers roam his cheeks, cleaning any signs of tears. - It's not just about dying young, you know? It's like ordering a pizza that you know will never arrive, but you still don't order another one. You just keep waiting and waiting. And you can almost taste it; the cheese, the smell, the love in the shape of pepperoni… but it's still not enough. Being a ghost is not enough for me, Y/N. I need to make my own pizza or order something else.
  A glimpse of determination in Reggie's eyes makes me feel uneasy. If Alex said he didn't want to find out, "ordering something else" is off limits. Going alone to the cafe looking for answers could mess their friendship and hurt all of them even more.
  - Are you sure you can't wait a little bit more? We can wait together, if it helps. - My reasoning is not the best in the world; I am basically bargaining more time with him. - We can finish Harry Potter, I can show you some music. And, of course, you still have Julie and your friends, right? Maybe the pizza will arrive, Reggie. Have a little faith.
  He opens his mouth a few times, trying to say something, but nothing comes out. He shrugs and turns around, staring at the window again. Outside, the weather is the same and everything looks peaceful. But inside of him, things are different. His world is not the same as it was when he entered my house.
  He wants answers now.
  - What kind of music do you wanna show me?
  His smile is not reaching his eyes, but I take whatever I can get, grabbing my phone quickly and playing Taylor Swift. He falls in love with her banjo songs, like I knew he would, and then shows me some of his favorite musicians. We talk about movies and he's impressed to know that Back To The Future is a classic, considering that none of his friends liked it back then.
  It's so easy to talk to him. His overflowing attention and care is noticeable and heartwarming. It's not like he's just answering me, no, he's making conversation, showing interest and curiosity about me, about the things I like. And I do the same with him, because I wanna know everything there is to know, everything he wants me to know and love.
  With him so close to me it's very easy to forget he's not alive.
  - You know what I was thinking? - He asks with his face so close to mine that I can even count his freckles.
  - No. - I whisper and he chuckles. - What is it?
  - I really wish they could see me. Your family. They are so nice. I really wish my unfinished business involved them too so they could see me. - Reggie sounds sad again, so put my hand on his knee, not really touching him. We're sitting on the floor, with our backs resting on the wall and our legs close to our chests, looking like two lost kids. - At least I've got you.
  - Your parents probably miss you too, you know? Don't you think we should look for them? Do you think it would help?
  - I am not sure anymore. I think I want to know, but at the same time what if I get disappointed? What if they don't care about me anymore? Don't think about me at all? Or what if they do? What if they can't move on? - He touches my hand softly and I can tell he has to focus a lot for that to happen. - It's also scary to see what they've become. To see what my future could've been.
  He doesn't say anything else after that. His thumb tries stroking my skin and it takes a while until he finally succeeds. My heart is about to get out of my chest and I stay still, afraid that he'll run away like he did the night before.
  - You are not your parents, Reggie, just as I am not mine. As much as they are responsible for us to some extent, it's not as if we are a property being marked by our last name. Our family is not our whole world; if anything, they're the cheerleaders who stand outside the field cheering for us. Well, - I feel his gentle touch more prominently so I turn my gaze to our connected hands. - at least it should be like that. But anyway, I'm very proud of you. You are a beautiful, loved human being with an incredible capacity to love others. Alive or dead, you're full of life and that's amazing.
  I don't want to extend the topic too much, just in case he's not ready for it, but I know that our parents also lost individual characteristics when they became parents. They didn't have their own names anymore; they were "my father" and "my mother". It seemed that they were less their own and more ours, as if their value was linked to their children in some way.
  - I… thank you. - Suddenly I can't feel his touch anymore. Disappointed, we stand up at the same time and again, we're so close I can memorize the exact shape of his lips. - You have no idea how much I… I needed this. Needed you. How much I need you. I'm happy we found each other, Y/N. I really am.
  - Me too, Reggie. I just wish our timing was a bit better, you know?
  - Yeah… I mean, the world is so old, right? At least we got some time here together. Let's just enjoy it from now on. Like it's now or never. - He smiles brightly again and I imitate him. - That's one of our songs, by the way. You need to hear -
  The doorbell startles us. Reggie and I laugh at our own reactions and I go get the door. When I open it, Nick is there, with arrogant eyes and an infuriating smile.
  - Hey, Y/N. - He says. - I think we need to talk. Now.
  - Honey, who is this? - My mother asks me. Just like Daisy, she has that pretentious grin that tells me she thinks we're more than friends. - Is this Reggie that your dad was telling me about? Come in, sweetheart. Dinner is almost ready.
  Mom runs to the kitchen, probably to tell the others about the news, and I'm scared again. If looks could kill, I'd be just like Reggie now.
  - Oh, so Reggie is here too? Good, that way we can kill two birds with one stone. - Reggie comes to the rescue, but he looks just as conflicted and confused as me. - And just so you know, you're one of the birds, Y/N, and I won't let you escape again.
  - What is this little dude talking about? - Reggie asks.
  Nick's head turns to Reggie's direction and I feel sick again. It's hard to breathe and the purple mist coming out of the blonde's mouth is scarier than before. He's standing at my door, invading my house and threatening me. Everything is too much, my own body, my own thoughts and the house feels smaller and smaller.
  - I am talking about you, your friends and this rat right here. I've been looking for you for two lifetimes already and I'm not letting you go again. Not without getting my revenge first.
taglist: @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts
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aliferous-ly · 4 years ago
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gasp -- a fic?? on MY tumblr??? more likely than you think
/
this is from an art trade with the absolutely lovely bastard @buddh-art​. madlad
here’s a link to the art O.O it’s SO PRETTY. WHAT. (LOOK AT IT BEFORE READING IT WILL HELP INTRO VISUALIZATION I PROMISE)
ao3 link!!
warnings: blood, the girls are FIGHTINgGGG (okay but physical fights fr), swearing
fandom/pairings: haikyuu/gen
prompt: “I’m going to kill them for punching you before I ever got to.” ft kuroo and bokuto, dumbass duo extraordinaire, and akaashi (plus some cameos)
“I’m going to kill them for punching you before I ever got to.” Kuroo cracks his knuckles. 
“Oho?” Bokuto grins, teeth glinting in the fluorescent lighting. He’s pressing a wad of tissues against his cheekbone and nose, the edges of his lips hidden behind white. “Kill?” 
Bokuto’s joking, behind the pain pulsing against his skin, but there’s this look in Kuroo’s eye that he doesn’t quite trust. No, that’s not it. He’s just never seen it before. He trusts Kuroo with everything. 
Akaashi says he’s stupid for doing so but lots of people say he’s stupid anyway. Trusting Kuroo has only burned him like, a dozen times, and half of them Kuroo was burned too. Bros burn together. 
Anyway. Anyway. Bokuto’s laughing and Kuroo’s not, so there’s something wrong. 
Kuroo shoots him a look and Bokuto’s laughter dries up in his throat. The edges of his lips droop. “Bro, it’s fine.” 
Kuroo’s mouth upturns into a sneer and Bokuto takes a step back. He’s never had Kuroo’s full frontal disdain directed at him and it’s kindof… it’s not… it’s not nice? It’s really… 
Bokuto swallows.
 The discomfort must shine on his face because Kuroo’s gaze flickers, startled, as he realizes where his scorn is directed. 
“Shit, dude,” Kuroo says. A hand rubs against his face and he sighs, long and loud. “Fucking who punched you?” 
“It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says. His voice is a little muffled. Next to him, Akaashi releases a quiet huff of breath. Akaashi’s slender, cool fingers brush against his cheek, pulling at his hand. 
Bokuto realizes how harshly he’s been pressing the tissues against his cheek, how there’s a numb scratch of pain, how the tissues stick to his face when he tries to pull them away. There’s a slight sludge of blood, since they caught his face, but he doesn’t -- it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. He’s fine. So why’s… “It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says again, stubborn. He tries for another grin. “Sad you weren’t there to enjoy the party?”
Kuroo is a quiet energy. Bokuto’s known this, it’s why they fit so perfectly together. Why they make such good friends, why every moment is exhilarating and fun. Kuroo is quiet and sharp, the double edged sword to Bokuto’s war hammer. The shield with jagged edges. While Bokuto wears his emotions on the outer edges of his skin, Kuroo keeps it all tucked away behind his ribcage, gradually building a fire. Stoking embers. He has a quiet anger, a soft fury. 
Bokuto never thinks too much about it. Not really. Bokuto laughs but it’s not… because Kuroo turns towards him with his quiet anger boiling in his eyes and it doesn’t feel right. None of this feels right. 
Kuroo steps towards him, his testy expression juxtaposing his gentle touch against Bokuto’s face. Bokuto lets him trail fingers along his temple, eyebrows furrowing as Kuroo presses the softest of pressures against the wound. 
It doesn’t hurt. Well, maybe in theory. Bokuto’s too focused on Kuroo’s expression to feel anything. Akaashi seems to fade into the background, his administration a soothing backdrop to Kuroo’s soft blaze. 
“Who punched you?” Kuroo says. He looks like he’s about to punch Bokuto, too, and Bokuto doesn’t know if he would dodge it at this point. Whether for personal reasons or otherwise. 
“It doesn’t matter,” Bokuto says. To Kuroo, this is the wrong thing to say, but Bokuto is immovable. 
Kuroo glares at him, and Bokuto glares right back. 
Kuroo swells up and Bokuto thinks, this is it, hunker down, prepare for a mean right hook. His eyes flicker shut instinctively, shoulders tensing. Bokuto is anything if not solid. He can take it. Throw it at me!
Well. That’s what you said before, too, and they certainly dished out what you could take. Maybe more… 
But it doesn’t matter, because it’s over, and Bokuto isn’t going to enact revenge or something. He fought, they fought, it’s over. 
Fear flutters against his throat. He can almost imagine the starburst of pain from Kuroo. He knows exactly what it might feel like, he’s seen it often enough. Even if he’s never personally experienced it, it was bound to happen eventually. 
Nothing happens. Bokuto’s eyes flick open, and Kuroo is three steps away. He’s staring at Bokuto with this devastatingly haunted expression. 
Bokuto frowns. “Bro. Chill out.” 
“I’m not actually going to punch you right now, what the fuck?” Kuroo spits. They’re equally startled at Kuroo’s outburst. “You’re wounded!” 
“Yeah, so?” Bokuto says. He touches his cheek absentmindedly. “It’s not a big deal.” 
“It is a fucking big deal! Akaashi, tell him it’s a big deal,” Kuroo swivels on their third party. 
Akaashi, to his credit, doesn’t flinch when faced with fire and ice all at once, Kuroo and Bokuto’s gazes cutting into his soul. In fact, he takes his time answering, seemingly unbothered. “Bokuto does downplay genuine trouble. But you’re not in your right mind, either, Kuroo.” 
“I’m perfectly calm,” Kuroo says, each word falling like a bullet. Akaashi stares at him and Kuroo shifts his gaze, lip jutting out. 
“Bokuto, sit down,” Akaashi says. Bokuto listens, dropping down on the couch. Akaashi is like water, he muses. If he’s going to make metaphors about all of his friends anyway. 
Kuroo’s lava, his heavy burn, settles on Bokuto’s skull. “Tell me so I can pay back the favor.” 
"No,” Bokuto says. He sticks his tongue out for emphasis and Akaashi flicks his temple. “Ouch! Akaashi, I’m mortally wounded, and you’re abusing me.” 
“Get over yourself,” Akaashi says. Bokuto blinks and knows there’s an undercurrent of worry, even if he can’t quiet hear it. He misses a lot of subtleties. Whatever. It’s fine. 
“Akaashi,” Kuroo stretches the name, leaning forward into Akaashi’s space. “You know, don’t you?” 
“Well, I did find him first,” Akaashi says. 
Bokuto and Akaashi alike quickly realize this is the wrong thing to say. 
“Find?” Kuroo repeats. “You found him?” 
Bokuto swallows and tries for a grin. “Man, you know me! Fight til I drop.” 
“Do you need to go to the hospital--?” 
“No!” 
The three of them fall silent and Bokuto swallows, trying to sooth his rapidly beating heart. “No. I’m fine. I’m serious, Kuroo, chill.” 
Telling lava to chill, understandably, is amusing. Kuroo laughs at him. Then he turns on his heel and leaves. 
It strikes a little deeper than Bokuto thinks it should. 
“He left,” Bokuto says. He knows it’s a dumb thing to say, he knows. Akaashi doesn’t make fun of him. 
But Kuroo… 
“Shirt,” Akaashi says. Bokuto jerks as Akaashi tugs at the fabric. Pain pricks as his shirt moves and Bokuto bites back a whine. He’s not weak. Eyes up here, he’d laughed, pointing at his face when they took a shot at his side. 
Stupid. Whatever. 
“I’m not your mom,” Akaashi says. His fingers are smooth as he directs Bokuto’s arms up, tugging his shirt off. 
“My mom hasn’t helped me change in forever,” Bokuto mumbles, like that means anything. Akaashi hums anyway. A short tsk drops from his lips when the plane of Bokuto’s chest is revealed, his spotted sides. 
It’s not bad. It’s not bad at all, Bokuto assures himself. He doesn’t bruise easily, so -- wait, no, that means it’s awful, so he must bruise really easily. That’s kinda lame, though, isn’t it--?
A sharp pain pricks from his side, squeezing a hiss from Bokuto’s lips. He avoids Akaashi’s stare, which is somehow harsher than a glare. “‘S fine.” 
Akaashi sighs. “Stay still.” 
Bokuto feels his mood slipping and grips at it. Akaashi has told him time and time again that his mood swings aren’t a sign of failure. That the spiral of depression is only pushed further when he thinks about how lame it is that he drops. How he can’t do anything. Immovable force in the worst way possible. 
Akaashi starts applying a bruise cream. It’s like Akaashi’s touch. Soothing. Comforting. 
“Kuroo hates me,” Bokuto says. It’s not what he means. Kuroo wouldn’t get angry if he hated Bokuto. 
There’s a beat, then: “Hates that someone else got a shot first, maybe.” 
Bokuto snorts, in spite of himself. “Scale of one to ten how jealous do you think Kuroo is that somebody punched me and got away with it?” 
“I wouldn’t say they got away with it,” Akaashi hums. “You hit them back.” 
“That I did,” Bokuto says. The coolness of pleasure buoys his depression, just for the time being. He leans back, smug confidence oozing from his pores. Then he shoots upright, dislodging Akaashi. “Oh my god! AKAASHI!” 
“Mm?”
“I didn’t say you should’ve seen the other guy! Call Kuroo back in here!” Bokuto stands. “I gotta grab him! I missed my chance!” 
“Do not,” Akaashi says. 
Bokuto doesn’t hear him, searching for his shoes so he can go find Kuroo right now. 
Flames dart up his back and he yelps. Akaashi jabbed him right on a bruise on his back. “Akaashi!” 
Akaashi has that look on his face, the one that says listen to me right now or you will regret it. 
Bokuto groans. “But Akaashi…” 
“Just call him.” 
“He won’t pick up--!” A second of silence. Then, “Okay, Akaashi.” 
Bokuto sighs. He sits back down. Let’s Akaashi continue taking care of him. 
He calls Kuroo, but he doesn’t pick up. 
---
Kuroo isn’t stupid. When he saw Bokuto’s wide grin, the smile from eye to eye, he knew something was wrong. 
Not from Bokuto. Bokuto has a freaky way of covering up his serious pains. Kuroo’s pretty sure the denial just runs so deep he manages to convince himself that everything’s fine, that he’s fine, so everyone else is convinced. 
No, Bokuto didn’t tip him off. 
Akaashi did. 
Akaashi doesn’t mean to, and someone who doesn’t know Akaashi might have missed it. But he read the sharp worry in the crease of Akaashi’s eyes, the wiry tension in his neck, the tightness of his lips. Kuroo knows that Bokuto wasn’t okay when Akaashi found him. 
Which is why it pisses him off how nonchalant Bokuto is about the entire situation. 
Kuroo ignores the missed call from Bokuto and calls Tsukishima. He doesn’t pick up the first time but does on the second. 
“What do you want.” 
“Aw, I’m doing great, thanks Tsukki!” 
“Do not call me that.” 
“Hey, you saw Bokuto today, right? Like, an hour ago?” 
There’s a static of silence. “Why?” 
“See anyone with him?” 
“Just Nakajima.” 
“Thanks,” Kuroo says. He hangs up, wincing. He’ll get Tsukishima’s full pissy mood the next time they meet because of that, but he’s on a mission. 
Nakajima. Kuroo frowns. Does he know anything about Nakajima? 
He gets another phone call and is about to cancel it when he sees second prettiest setter flash across the screen. 
He answers. 
“Kuroo,” Akaashi says amicably. There’s a quiet wail on the other side of the phone and Kuroo pulls the phone away for a second, staring at it in surprise. Then he sticks it back against his ear, catching the tail end of what Akaashi was saying. “--and you should probably come back.” 
“Hm? I have to hunt down Nakajima.” 
“You know his name,” Akaashi says. He says it not like oh thank god, let me help, but more like goddamn it, another problem for me to fix. Which offends Kuroo, but just a little bit. “Great. Do you know where he is?” 
It’s a challenge. “No, but--”
“Then you won’t find him.” 
“I’ll just search the city, it’s not that hard.” 
“Kuroo, I know your stubborn streak rivals Bokuto’s--” there’s a thump on the other end, then Akaashi’s voice returns, “--but it really would be in both of your best interests for you to return.” 
“I wasn’t joking when I said I would kill whoever got to punch him first,” Kuroo says. 
“I understand. But--” 
Whatever else Akaashi says is lost in the static of Kuroo’s mind, which whites out the moment he spots someone stumbling down the sidewalk, nursing a bloody nose. He doesn’t know Nakajima personally, but he has seen the little bitch before. 
“I’ll call you back,” Kuroo says, and shoves his phone in his pocket, barely remembering to end the call. He’s really getting on a lot of people’s bad side. He’s always on people’s bad side, though, so he doesn’t really care. 
Nakajima’s limping, which. In Bokuto’s defense, he does look worse for wear. 
Kuroo doesn’t give a shit. He stalks towards him, shoving his hands in his pockets. He stops directly in his path, staring at him down his nose, lip curled. “Nakajima.” 
Nakajima looks up at him, gaze flickering with recognition, then irritation. “You’re Koutarou’s friend.” 
The name flicks a switch in Kuroo and he loses it, the swing of his arm familiar as he cuts into Nakajima’s jaw. Nakajima jerks to the left, dropping and landing awkwardly on his arm. 
“What the hell, man…?” Nakajima raises a hand to adjust his jaw, eyebrows furrowed angrily. 
Kuroo doesn’t really know. He just knows that an unrighteous fury took over his soul the moment Nakajima dropped Bokuto’s first name. Bokuto’s first name is important, and only the right people are allowed to call him by name. Especially to other people. Who the fuck does Nakajima think he is? 
“Don’t call him that,” Kuroo says simply. The words are acid on his tongue, burning his throat. “If you know what’s good for you.” 
“Oh, so you’re threatening me, great.” Nakajima pushes to his feet. “Did he put you up to this? Upset he lost a little and decided to sick his dog on me?” 
Kuroo’s flaming anger flickers and recedes. He inhales, waits for Nakajima to put himself back together. Watches blandly as Nakajima wipes blood off of his lip. Kuroo’s ire is viscous and glowing, lava sludging through caverns. 
“Aw, little bud is angry he doesn’t have friends to back him up,” Kuroo says. He cools his voice off as much as he can, falling into easy disdain. “Frustrated, Jiji?” Kuroo leans into his space, peering at his eyes. 
Nakajima swallows, glaring. “The fuck is your problem?” 
“You are my problem,” Kuroo says. He looks Nakajima up and down, curling his lip. “Unfortunately.” 
“Koutarou got what was--” 
This time Kuroo aims for the base of his sternum. Nakajima drops like a box of rocks. He takes much longer to rise than before, air squeezing through his lungs in rasps. He lunges at Kuroo, who side steps easily. “Easy solution. Leave Bokuto’s name out of your filthy mouth and leave him alone, and we won’t have a problem.” 
“You realize he made the first swing?” Nakajima says, gasping. 
“I don’t give a shit,” Kuroo says. “If he made the first swing then you’re a real shit person. I should take you down right now.” 
Nakajima whirls, hand shooting out. It wraps around Kuroo’s neck and squeezes. 
Kuroo takes a shot at the inside of Nakajima’s elbow, ducking down and pressing his chin against Nakajima’s hand at the same moment. He swoops Nakajima’s foot too far to the right and drives his knee upwards. 
Kuroo winces despite himself as Nakajima groans, falling once again, hands falling lax. 
“Leave him alone,” Kuroo says. He thinks about pushing him over, grinding his heel into Nakajima’s throat. The thought passes. “You hear me?” 
“You’re fucking crazy.” Nakajima moans. 
“Do you understand what I am saying?” Kuroo says. He considers driving his knee against his back, pressing him against the ground. 
“Jesus christ, yes, I’ll leave him fucking alone.” 
It’s not enough. It’s never enough. 
But his phone is ringing again, so he turns on his heel and stalks away. 
---
“Kuuuuroooooooo,” Bokuto whines, throwing himself on Kuroo the moment he walks in. There’s a dull ache in his side as he nearly smothers Kuroo, but obviously greeting his best bud is more important. 
“Aw, miss me?” Kuroo snickers and detaches himself from Bokuto. 
Bokuto frowns. “Obviously. I want to go throw some volleyballs around. Akaashi can set!” 
“No I will not,” Akaashi says from the couch. 
“He will.” 
“Bo, you shouldn’t be practicing right now,” Kuroo laughs. He pokes Bokuto in the forehead. 
Bokuto stares at him, then lunges forward, knocking their foreheads together with a clack. 
“Ow, what the fuck,” Kuroo yelps. 
Bokuto grinds his teeth together and wraps his arms around Kuroo and clings like a limpet. “Block for me!” 
“No!” Kuroo wiggles in Bokuto’s arms, trying to break free. It’s like trying to move a tree trunk. 
Bokuto shoves his face in the juncture of Kuroo’s neck. “Pleasee.” His voice buzzes against Kuroo’s skin. Goosebumps rise along the back of Kuroo’s neck. 
“No,” Kuroo says. He groans in defeat. 
Bokuto beams, then realizes that Kuroo’s trying to shift in a different way than before, like he’s trying to hug him back. So he relinquishes Kuroo’s arms. 
Kuroo hugs him around the neck and shoulders. “‘S fine. Let’s just chill.” 
“Mmkay.” Bokuto melts into the hold. It’s so soft and warm. He nuzzles his nose into Kuroo’s neck and sighs. Bokuto’s always warm, but he loves physical contact anyway. It’s like a thousand soft blankets. 
“C’mon, bud.” Kuroo tugs him towards the couch, where Akaashi is reading a book. Somehow. Among their loud noises. 
“I don’t want to watch a movie,” Bokuto says. Even he can tell he’s being petulant, but he can’t help it. “I’ll get bored.” 
Kuroo brings out his phone, waving it in front of Bokuto as he plops them both on the couch. “Let’s play minecraft.” 
Bokuto’s frozen for half a second. Then he gasps, feeling a glow starting in his chest and gleaming outwards, shining through his eyes and teeth, glinting off his shoulders. “Yes! Bro, yes!” He scrambles for his phone, pressing his shoulder against Kuroo’s. 
Kuroo’s shoulders stiffen. Bokuto is about to move away because he’s not the kind of guy to consciously discomfort his bros, but then Kuroo relaxes, tension leaking from his body. 
“Do you want to make a new world?” Bokuto asks, booting his phone up and staring at the screen, already invested. He leans his head on Kuroo’s shoulder, humming. 
“Sure,” Kuroo says. He doesn’t move for a few long seconds, fingers lax around his phone. 
Bokuto glances up at him and catches Kuroo staring at his face, eyes roaming around. Bokuto swallows, knowing he’s staring at the white bandages. Kuroo’s gaze flicks to Bokuto’s shoulder, a bruise showing through the loose sweater he’s wearing. 
“Punch me later,” Bokuto says. 
Kuroo snorts in surprise, his vulnerable expression melting into one of ease. He shifts, jostling Bokuto’s head, settling against the back of the couch. “What should the seed be?” 
“Bitch,” Bokuto says instantly. “No! Ace. Wait, we did that one already. Middle blocker. Cross spike!” 
“Bitch it is,” Kuroo says. 
Bokuto laughs. Kuroo smiles, teeth showing. Akaashi turns a page, and everything feels just right. He can barely feel the burn of his scabs with the warmth of Kuroo against him and the quiet presence of Akaashi just a few feet away. 
And Bokuto smiles, the upturn of his lips quieter than his normal radiant beam. He knows, then; they’re good. 
He’s good. 
22 notes · View notes
stateofloveandnegan · 5 years ago
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Hey Ed - Eddie Vedder
Hi, dear! First of all - Merry Christmas! I saw that you liked my song about Ed and I couldn’t but notice you’re a fic account, aha. Reading fics is literally my only escape from life these days. If you could, if it’s not too much to ask, could you maybe make a fic scenario out of that song with like a mix of Solider of Love. Like the girl is friends with Eddie and the band, they both have really good playful flirty chemistry/really like each other, but she’s really hesitant to accept her feelings for him let alone admit it because she’s insecure/doesn’t think she’s good enough and closed off due to her hurtful past. So finally after days of denial and failing to move on, he walks in on her singing that song by herself in a room. And y’know the fluffy or smutty rest, aha. I just thought it would be cute, aha. Totally understand if you’re busy though, it is the holidays after all.
So, what do I say..? I got this request about a year ago, it wasn’t last Christmas, it was Christmas 2018. I’ve literally taken forever and I feel really bad for it, but it’s been a weird (not all bad) year and most of the time I simply didn’t know what to write down, I had no inspiration. Since we’re all practically in quarantine, I thought it’d be a good time to try and get back to writing. I had part of the story written before, but today I deleted it all and started over. 
Lili, I've said it before, but I apologise for it taking so long. You have no idea how much I appreciate your patience. I deeply hope you enjoy it!
Requested by: @sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face​
Warning(s): tiny bit of angst
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“Hey, Lili! Come here,” Eddie smiles at me and opens his arms as he gets up from his seat in the booth. I smile and my heart flutters at how cute he is. I walk up to him and wrap my arms around him as he kisses my cheek. “S’good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you as well, how are you? I haven’t seen you in quite a while.” I smile at him and he mirrors my expression. “I’ve been great, just busy with the band and all that stuff. Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? We can catch up and talk all we want.”
The idea of having dinner with Eddie alone makes my heart flutter, but I quickly push that feeling away and smirk, bringing the usual flirty demeanor between us back. “Dinner, hm? Just you and me? One would almost say you’re up to something, Vedder.”
I almost notice a slight blush on Eddie’s cheeks, but he’s quick to roll his eyes with a smirk and shake his head fondly.
Soon, we join the others at the table, I greet everyone and take a seat across from Eddie. Throughout the night, Eddie and I keep sneaking glances at each other, and we keep catching one another. For a long time, I can keep up my flirty demeanor, the smirk on my face barely fading. But, after a while, I notice the feelings I have for him blossoming up and as soon as I feel them, I push them away. I get up from my seat and excuse myself to the bathroom. ‘Stop it, they’re not real.’I mumble to myself as I look into the mirror after splashing a tiny bit of water on my face.
After a couple of minutes, the door to the ladies’ restroom opens and Katie, Mike’s girlfriend, walks in with a sympathetic smile on her face. “Are you still trying to fight your feelings?”
I know she never means harm, but she knows how hard this is for me, she knows it’s stupid to joke about these things, and she does it anyway. “Piss off, Katie.”
She sighs, “C’mon Lili, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve got feelings for him, so what? He seems to feel the same, you know? He wouldn’t be so damn flirty with you if he doesn’t like you.”
I shake my head, “He doesn’t, and he never will. Do you know me, Katie? A guy like him could never like a girl like me. I’m not even close to what he deserves.”
Before she can say anything, I leave the restroom, quickly come up with an excuse as I gather my things and leave my friends to go to my dad’s little garage studio. I’ve had my own place for a good couple of years now, but I always find my way back to my parents’ house when I want to hide away from stuff; like my feelings.
When I get there, there’s no one home. My parents said they would go away for the weekend, so I’m not surprised to find the house abandoned. Right now, I’m happy they’re not here, especially my dad. He’s always been able to read me like an open book, so he’d immediately notice something’s wrong.
I make myself a cup of tea and a small bowl of chips and retreat to the garage. I’ve been working on some stuff for a while now, but I can’t seem to get the words right. Also because I’m not even sure what I want it to be about, which probably isn’t helping the situation.
Nonetheless, I get my notebook out of my bag and sit down beside it with my dad’s guitar in my lap. I gently begin to play some chords, getting into a rhythm as I slowly hum a melody. I keep doing this for a while before some words suddenly come to me, and without hesitation, I begin to write them down in the notebook.
It’s like I’m trying to sleep in somebody else’s bed
But I can’t lie in this comfort and pretend.
He murmurs my sad thoughts, he screams my shit,
But my heart don’t mirror his perfect wit.
As soon as I realize what the next words are going to be, I curse myself and slam my notebook shut, why does he always need to be on my mind?
I stay at my parents’ house for a little while longer, but when I notice the clock hitting 12:30am, I gather my things and make my way home. My mind is like a whirlwind, all the thoughts and feelings I’ve been suppressing for the last few months coming together all at once. Yet still, I don’t listen to any of them. I know how I feel, but I’m not going to give into them, because I know how it’s going to be..
If I accept the fact that I have strong feelings for Eddie, and if I were to tell him that, he’d just laugh it off. I’d be hurt and I’d feel even more like garbage than I already am.
Guys don’t like me, not genuinely. All they like me for is a little bit of fun and when they’ve had their fun, they throw me out. I’ve been there, done that… It was like that with Kenny. We’d known each other for a long time and at one point I realized I’d fallen for him. I told him how I felt, and he told me he felt the same. We started dating, but he never wanted to do stuff in public. And if he was feeling down, he would always cancel plans because he would not be in the ‘mood’ anyways. I was too naïve to realize what he actually meant with that.
It wasn’t until one day, when we went out for lunch. I was so happy we actually went out for once, but I noticed Kenny wasn’t too happy about it. And it wasn’t until the moment his friends ‘caught’ him with me. They came up to us, throwing comments and laughing at Kenny for spending time with ‘someone like me’. Kenny didn’t even hesitate when he stood up, and his words are craved in my mind for the rest of my life. “Do you really think I’d take her seriously? C’mon guys, she’s just a good fuck and was desperate for lunch. But now that I’m here I realize she isn’t even worth having lunch with. Let’s get out of here.”
Truth is, Kenny wasn’t the first one to betray and hurt me like that, before Kenny it was Patrick. Guys don’t like me… I’m not worth it for anyone. So why on earth would Eddie think any different?
Some days go by and I keep getting the urge to write down the words that play in my head,
Hey Ed, I heard what you said
But my tears are still bled,
Hey Ed, you’re on of my daily meds,
But your solution is so far ahead.
“I don’t know how to handle it anymore, Katie.” I say in tears as she wraps her arms around me. Earlier, she called me to hang out and I thought it’d be nice, to maybe get my attention away from all the things in my mind, but as soon as I saw Katie, I couldn’t hold back all my emotions anymore.
Katie’s known me for years, she knows what I’ve been through and how I feel about everything connected to love. She knows how I feel about Eddie, she knew it long before I did. “Accepting your feelings could be a good first, Lili. Don’t torture yourself like this any longer.”
It takes me a whole lot of effort and energy, but after a couple of minutes, I quietly speak up. “I’ve got these words in my head, they could very perfectly become a song, but I couldn’t… I didn’t want to write them all down, because I didn’t want to give in.”
Katie sighs softly and leans back a little so she can look at me, “Give into them, Liliana. It’s gonna kill you if you don’t. give in and write that song, you’re going to feel so much better, I promise.”
I nod slowly and wipe my tears. Katie smiles softly and gives me one last hug, making sure I’m going to be alright, and leaves.
Before I get to writing down the words, I go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. Fortunately, my face didn’t get too red, so I just splash some water on my face and apply a bit of mascara. When I’m happy with how I look, which is when it’s not noticeable that I’ve cried, I go back to my room, grab my guitar and sit down on my bed with a pencil and the notebook beside me.
I close my eyes for a moment, let out a deep sigh, and let all the thoughts and feelings come out. The pencil slides over the paper, the words coming so fast, my hand can barely keep up with my mind. After what feels like less than a minute, the lyrics are written down on the paper. I grab my guitar and start playing a slow melody that fits the mood perfectly. When I’ve found the perfect rhythm, I softly begin to sing the words, getting lost in my own world as I close my eyes.
It’s like I’m trying to sleep in somebody else’s bed
But I can’t lie in this comfort and pretend.
He murmurs my sad thoughts, he screams my shit,
But my heart don’t mirror his perfect wit.
Hey Ed, I heard what you said
But my tears are still bled,
Hey Ed, you’re on of my daily meds,
But your solution is so far ahead.
Who knew a voice could make you soar,
Even when you’re feeling most unsure,
Sometimes I feel like your soul is the cure,
But how much can one body endure?
Hey Ed, I heard what you said
I know you want the powerless fed,
Hey Ed, I know what you said
But I still feel so unread.
You’re one of us, just on the stage.
Sometimes that feels far away.
That’s just the way of the pay.
You still make our days less grey.
Hey Ed, I heard what you said,
You’re the reason my worries fled.
Hey Ed, I heard what you said,
I’d just wish you’d get out of my head.
When I’m done, I slowly open my eyes, finding myself back. When my eyes land on him, my heart sinks and I feel the need to vanish, but his words tell me otherwise, and when I look closely, I notice his eyes aren’t like they usually are; they’re filled with tears.
“E-Eddie?” I quietly speak up. He doesn’t say anything, though. He just walks closer to me, gently takes the guitar from me and puts it down before bringing his rough hands up to my cheeks. And then it happens… he leans forwards and plants his soft lips onto mine, kissing me softly, yet with so much passion and only now I realize how much of a fool I’ve been. He does feel the same…
The kiss lasts forever, but when he pulls back it also feels like it only lasted a second. Eddie rests his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath for a moment. When I open my eyes, Eddie’s already looking at me. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lili?” his low and husky, because of the tears, voice gently asks me.
I sigh softly and shrug a little, “You’re amazing, Eddie. You literally deserve the world and more… how did you expect me to think I’d be good enough for you?”
Eddie shakes his head and rubs his thumb softly over my cheek, “You are worth so much more than you think, Liliana. You are the sweetest, most amazing, most loving… most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Don’t ever speak so lowly of yourself again, please.”
I’m unable to find the right words to say to him, so I just wrap my arms around him and hold him close, as Eddie does the same.
“How did you even get in?” I manage to get out, a small smile entering my face. Eddie chuckles and pulls back so he can look at me, “Katie texted me earlier, saying you could use a friend. I got here as soon as I got and the door was unlocked, so I let myself. Then I heard you sing, and I couldn’t help my curiousness…” a sheepish smile enters his face as his cheeks light up a little.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m thankful Katie did that…” I admit, unable to get my eyes off Eddie’s. Eddie smiles and nods, “Me, too.”
Eddie comes closer again and presses another kiss onto my lips, “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you somewhere for dinner.”
“I’d love nothing more, Eddie.”
62 notes · View notes
avisteliterature · 5 years ago
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Friend’s Trust | Claude von Riegan x Reader
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RATING: General ◇ GENRE: Fluff/ Friendship/ Hurt/ Comfort ◇ 1,051 words SUMMARY: Claude approaches you when you’re stressed out about the upcoming exam. NOTE: Please keep in mind that this fic was written before the game’s release, and I forgot to upload it here. The relationship between Claude and Reader can be read as platonically or romantically.
Fishing really isn't your forte, you realize. With the all too important exam coming up, you've been feeling understandably stressed and ready to break down at a moment's notice. People always say that fishing is a relaxing hobby, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, and you ended up renting a pole and some bait to use. The other students in the area were more than willing to help a beginner such as yourself out and offer you a quick tutorial and rundown of sorts before going back to their own little thing.
You don't know how long you've been sitting there now, but none of the fish were biting, and you were increasingly getting more and more annoyed and impatient at the stretched out silence. You thought fishing was supposed to help soothe the soul or something, but if anything, it just put you in an even worse mood than before you started out. You can't even feel bothered to hide the scowl on your face.
A cheerful laugh rings out to your side. "You'll scare all the fish away if you continue glaring like that."
You turn your attention away from the water and towards the newcomer, your expression letting up by the slightest amount when you see who it is. "Claude... You seem awfully carefree for someone who had to stay behind for extra lessons."
The man grins, not even bothered by a fraction at your teasing prod, and he casually shrugs his shoulders. "There's no shame in admitting you aren't perfect and asking somebody else for help when you need it."
You offer a thoughtful hum in response as you turn your head back to the body of water in front of you. "Hm, I suppose..." you answer in a distracted manner.
"So!" Claude claps his hands together before making his way over to sit beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. His presence is a warm comfort, and you find yourself leaning closer to him. "What do you need help with?" He asks you.
Claude is a cheerful and kind man, and you've lost track as to how many times he has extended that kindness towards you. You drop your gaze, the grip on your fishing pole becoming a bit tighter as you try to figure out the words to say. You don't want to bother Claude with your worries, but at the same time, there was something about him that made you let down your guard and want to confine in him. You trust him.
"I guess..." you start with a whispered tone. "I'm a bit wound up because of the upcoming exam and everything."
It wasn't that you were a perfectionist of sorts, but you wanted to give it your best, and yet, in the back of your mind, it feels like your best might not be enough. Although you can understand the professor's lessons clearly while in class, reviewing the material in your spare time and trying to make them stick just didn't seem to work in your favour. You let out an undignified groan of defeat and bury your head into between your knees.
A firm pat on your shoulder stops you from further wallowing into your self-pity. "Hey, lighten up," Claude tries to assure you. "It's not like it's gonna be the end of the world if you fail."
You huff in slight irritation, lifting your head a bit and turning it to glare at the man. Easy for him to say. For someone like you in your position, how well you do in your studies plays a big part in how well your future prospects will be. You're not sure if Claude understands that, but you know full well that his encouragement had no sarcasm or ill intent. He truly does want to cheer you up, and you're unable to stay angry at him for long.
"It's not that simple," you argue with slumped shoulders. "It's an important exam."
"And your physical and emotional well-being is just as important," Claude shoots back without missing a beat. "Life's too short to worry so much about such things."
You end up pursing your lips into a slight pout. What Claude says is right, but it doesn't make you feel any more satisfied nor lessen the burden on your mind. You figure you spent more than enough time here already, so you start packing things up, Claude trailing behind you as you offer your unused bait to another student before proceeding to return your rented fishing pole.
"What are you gonna do now?" The Riegan heir asks, sparing you a sideglance as he rests his hands behind his head, taking a leisurely pace by your side.
"Don't know," you answer casually, staring straight ahead of you with no set destination in mind. Maybe a stroll around the Academy and taking in some of the sights might help alleviate the anxiety that weighs on your chest. Really, at this point, you'll do just about anything so long as it'll help you lift your spirits.
"In that case..."
A questioning look crosses over your features, and it turns to one of confused surprise when Claude unreservedly grabs your wrist and begins to gently tug you into a specific direction. "Come with me!" He suggests, but with his solid grip on you, it doesn't seem like he's going to give you any say on the matter. "I think I know juuust the thing that might help you!"
"I'm wary," you confess with a deadpan look, but despite your words and expression, there is a hint of excited curiosity in the back of your mind as to what your friend might possibly be thinking.
Claude feigns exaggerated hurt, speaking dramatically. "Oh, you wound me! Do I not have your trust?"
You can't help but playfully roll your eyes at the man's antics. In the end, you decide to humour him. Maybe he really does know what you need. Despite his usual behaviour, he can be quite perceptive towards other people. "Alright, fine. Lead the way, kind sir."
Claude grins from ear to ear, a wonderful laugh naturally falling from his lips as he eases his hold on you before practically dragging you away to who knows where. "I promise you won't regret it!"
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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years ago
Text
do these tacos taste funny to you?
Prompt: drugged
Whumpee: Max Evans
Fandom: Roswell New Mexico
hi welcome to this fic! i will be honest there is not a lot of plot here like you just have to go with it. idk. hope you enjoy this!!
“You’re not working tonight, Evans,” Maria calls at him, the second he walks through the door of the Pony. 
“I know,” he returns, sinking onto a barstool. “Just came for a drink.”
Maria shakes her head. “So you come to the bar where you work. Alone. That’s a little sad, Evans.”
He laughs as she pours him a drink. “Thanks, that’s just what I needed to hear.”
“Anytime,” Maria says, and turns to help a customer. 
Max sips slowly at his drink, looking around the bar. It’s a pretty decent crowd for a Wednesday night, he thinks. He recognizes just about everybody in that crowd, save for the man that’s just walked through the door. He’s dressed in a way that makes it clear he’s not from anywhere near Roswell, and there’s something about him that Max finds unsettling. He shrugs it off, but can’t help tensing up when the man sits down on the stool right next to him.
“Hey,” the man says, and Max gives him a nod. “I heard this place was popular with the locals,” he goes on, as Max says nothing. “I just moved here from New York City, so I thought what the hell, might as well meet my neighbors. I’m Cary,” he adds, extending a hand.
Max takes it reluctantly and doesn’t offer his name. He can’t tell what it is about this guy that’s put him so on edge, but he doesn’t bother to think about it too hard. Gut feelings like this, he’s learned, are rarely wrong, and he’s in no mood for any kind of confrontation. “Excuse me,” he says, shoving himself away from the bar. 
“Sure thing,” Cary says, and offers Max a smile. Max represses a shudder and hurries off to the bathroom. 
He can’t hide in there forever, of course. He thinks for a second about calling Michael or Isobel, and having them come down to see if they feel like anything’s up. He decides against that, though. No need to get them involved in something that’s just a feeling. He makes up his mind to go back out to the bar and give Cary an interrogation of sorts, figure out who he is and what he wants. 
Which would be a fine plan, except for the fact that when he emerges from the bathroom, the man is nowhere to be seen. Max sighs and sinks back down onto his stool, swirling around the remnants of his drink as he waits for Maria to finish talking to someone.
“Did you see where the guy that was sitting next to me went?” he asks, as she refills his drink. “I wanted to talk to him.”
Maria shrugs. “I think he left. What did you want to talk to him about?”
Max shrugs back. He doesn’t really want to go around making unfounded accusations. He takes a large sip of his drink to avoid answering, but Maria just stares at him, waiting for him to say something.
“I just...felt like there was something off about him,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t shake this feeling. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Maria nods in understanding. “Go with the feeling,” she suggests. “Trust your instincts.”
“Thanks,” Max replies, making up his mind then and there to search all over town for Cary if he has to. He gets up from his seat again, but Maria grabs his arm and pulls him back down.
“Slow down,” she warns. “I know you haven’t had much, but you did just finish that drink. Wait fifteen minutes, and I’ll give you these,” she says, holding up the keys he hadn’t even realized she’d taken.
“But-” he protests, and she cuts him off. 
“No buts, Evans. Your guy will still be not here in fifteen minutes.”
Max groans in frustration but relents, resigning himself to staring at the door, just in case Cary comes back in. 
As the minutes pass, Max starts to feel...off. Waves of dizziness and nausea periodically roll through him, and he feels far more tired than he ought to, considering the relatively early hour. He’s about to bring this up to someone when Maria passes him his keys, warning him to be careful with this guy.
He nods, fumbling with the keys for a second, and then stands up, bracing himself on the counter as a particularly strong wave of dizziness hits him. 
“You okay?” Maria asks, but he brushes her off, heading for the door in as straight a line as he can manage. Maybe I should sit down, he thinks, but then he thinks, no, wait, I have to find this guy...what was his name? Cory?
“Cary,” says a voice from next to him, and Max startles, having not realized he was speaking aloud. He whirls around to face the person speaking to him, but the world tilts sideways, and he stumbles, but someone catches him under the arms, then picks him up, which makes his head spin even more, and then everything fades into nothingness.
--
He wakes up and he doesn’t know where he is. His whole body hurts, and he feels like he’s underwater. His head is pounding. 
He forces his eyes to open but he can’t see anything, and then something cylindrical and very hard is smacking into his stomach, and it hurts but he can’t find the strength to scream. The object, whatever it is, hits him again and again, and his whole body is shaking with the pain and his only thought is constant begging: make it stop, please make it stop…
And then it does. Max wonders for a second if he somehow made this attack stop with some kind of previously-undiscovered mind powers, but then he hears something jangling and suddenly there’s what feels like a chain whipping into his back, and he groans softly, the most noise he can make. It hits him again, harder and harder each time, until the pain is a blinding-white cloud surrounding him and he can’t tell which way is up and he feels strangely detached from his own body. And then the white begins to be overtaken with black, and he sinks gratefully into the painless embrace of unconsciousness.
--
He wakes up and he doesn’t know where he is. His whole body hurts, and he feels like he’s underwater. His head is pounding. His back feels like it’s been twisted, like a rag being wrung out, and his stomach feels like it’s been run over, and breathing hurts, and his eyes are closed so he can’t see anything, but he feels the world spinning, and he’s never been this dizzy before. He thinks he might be moving, and he thinks there’s somebody next to him, but everything is so messed up that he doesn’t know for certain. All he knows is that he’s never felt this bad in his whole life, which is saying something. He wants to cry, or maybe scream, but he is far too tired. 
“I think he’s awake,” Max hears someone say, over the constant pounding in his brain. “Max?”
Isobel. He blinks his eyes open slowly, gazing blearily around the blessedly-familiar environment of Michael’s truck until he sees her. 
“Hi,” she says. “How do you feel?”
He closes his eyes again. “Bad,” he manages to whisper. 
“No shit,” says Michael’s voice from next to Isobel. “Anything else?”
“Dizzy,” Max says. He doesn’t know how to encapsulate the sheer volume of pain that his body is in, so he settles for saying, “hurts,” and hopes that his siblings understand.
“We know,” Isobel says, sympathetically. “Just hold on, we’ll be there in a minute. You’ll be okay.”
Max doubts that. He wonders for a second where it is they’re going, but decides it’s not worth asking. 
“Isn’t there any acetone in here?” Isobel asks, and Max hears her rummaging around.
“Dunno,” he replies, wishing that he could fall asleep again.
“She wasn’t talking to you,” Michael says, and Max hears a soft thwack. “He’s on drugs, Michael, cut him some slack,” Isobel says. 
Drugs? Max wonders. Makes sense, he decides. A particularly nasty throb from his aching back makes him lose track of the conversation for a minute, and when he manages to focus again, Michael is defending himself against Isobel.
“I’m sorry there’s none in here, okay, Iz? But it might not be the best idea, anyway, We don’t know-”
Max interrupts. “What’s not the best idea?” he asks, the words slurring into one mess.
“The acetone, because…” Whatever Michael might have been saying is lost as another wave of dizziness envelops Max, and he can feel himself spinning though he knows he’s not actually spinning, and before he has time to stop it, he’s throwing up, not even able to bend over because of the pain in his stomach and back. 
“Because we don’t know how it’ll react with the drugs in his stomach,” Michael finishes, as Isobel makes a faintly disgusted noise. Max feels her hand hover next to his face, not touching him, like she’s worried she’ll only hurt him more.
Throwing up had really not felt so good on his battered body, and Max yet again loses himself in a haze of pain, feeling tears start to drip down his face for the first time. Everything hurts so much, and he just wants it all to stop, and the world is a jumbled mess of pain and motion and noise, and then he finally passes out. 
--
The next time he wakes up, he finally knows where he is, immediately: at home, in his bed. Everything hurts, and he’s groggy, but he’s not excruciatingly dizzy or exhausted. He takes stock of himself, trying to remember what he’d been doing before he’d woken up. Vague flashes of the Pony and Michael’s truck come to mind, but he knows he’s missing time. His head is aching and there’s something wrapped around his torso, which unfortunately doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything for the pain of what seems to be one absolutely massive bruise.
Following this, Max takes stock of his surroundings. Warm sunlight is peeking through the window, and he remembers, for a split second, darkness and pain and complete disorientation. But the image fades, and he gives his achy head a shake to clear it as he continues looking around. There’s a glass of water on his bedside table, and a second, smaller glass of acetone beside it, with a note on it warning him not to drink it too quickly. He obeys the note, which is in Isobel’s handwriting, taking small sips of the acetone, feeling it slowly seep into his bones, lessening the pain marginally. 
When he finishes it, he becomes aware of the fact that he’s still tired. A large part of him doesn’t want to go back to sleep - he can barely remember anything, doesn’t know why he’s hurting or who hurt him or how he got here. But then he hears something from the living room. He panics for a second before recognizing Michael’s voice, and then Isobel’s, and he can’t help but smile as he lets his eyes close. They’re here, which means he’s safe, and everything’s going to be okay. He falls back asleep, trusting that the next time he wakes up, he’ll still be right where he is.
hi i don’t like this very much but oh well!!! hope maybe you liked it? in case you were wondering the drug he was given was rohypnol, not very creative of me i know but what can ya do. it’s easy you know? anyway don’t ask me what cary wanted or where he went because idk lol. thanks very much for reading!!
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starstruck-xavier · 4 years ago
Text
Signs
TW for suicide attempt but this is my first @badthingshappenbingo​ fic! so i’ll probably have the summary etc under the cut because it’s very angsty
ao3 || wattpad || bthb masterpost || fanfic masterpost || main masterpost
words: 1585 ships: platonic anxceit, extremely subtle queerplatonic moxiety fandom: sanders sides prompt: suicide attempt
summary: It seems like every time Virgil's planned out a final attempt, it's been foiled by other plans that distract him from his initial intentions. It's this time, however, that he finds out how.
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X = finished, O = planned/wip i might take requests? i don’t know yet, i’ll definitely announce when i am hdghfdf stay safe out there everyone <3
~
The exhilaration that washes calmly over Virgil as he gazes at the pills in his hand could almost be interpreted as fear, but he tries to morph it into a type of excitement or relief. Of course, he’d much rather live a happy life that’s not muddled with mental health issues and he can feel his heart beating out of his chest as if his fight-or-flight reflexes are about to kick in and have him give up on this attempt entirely, but this is what he’s been planning for some time. He’s actually made it, he can’t just bail this time.
Each of the planned attempts he’s made in the past have always been unintentionally interrupted by his friends (or maybe they were intentional, a small voice in the back of his head suggests, but he highly doubts it). A few months ago he was on the rooftop when Logan came out too, saying he wanted to study the sky as it was a clear night, and he stayed with him as they both stargazed together. A while before that he ran into Patton on his way to the bridge downtown and they ended up getting coffee together before walking back to campus. Perhaps it was a year ago by now when he was going about trying to take apart a disposable shaving razor when the twins decided to invite him to see a movie and then play video games back at the dorm. It was a nice movie. Virgil remembers poking harmless fun at Roman for crying during the emotional parts, how Roman then returned the teasing when Virgil sneezed at the sudden sunlight upon exiting the cinema. He remembers the taste of salt and toffee dissolving in his mouth. The sound of the brothers arguing over a Smash tournament as he very easily beat them both in each game they played. The smell of Belgian chocolate at the quaint cafe that Patton took him to. The sight of Logan’s relaxed smile and the reflection of the stars in his glasses. The feeling of contentment every time someone made him forget about what he was about to do.
The feeling of blood trickling down his arm and bruises on his collarbones. The sight of his teary face in the mirror as he tries countless times to pull it together. The smell of his room during a depressive episode when he can’t even begin to try cleaning up. The sound of his muffled, hitched breaths at night when he suffers through panic attacks alone. The taste of nothing but chewing gum and metal.
Where there’s good, there’s more bad, and Virgil will never understand the optimism in some of his friends. They all have their passions, the things that will always make them smile, the will to push through the hard times like it’s as simple as swimming through water. But while they all swim expertly through clear water, Virgil struggles through a thick bog with no swimming abilities at all.
The idea of death has always frightened him, but perhaps it’s time to face that fear head on.
The knocking at the bathroom door doesn’t even phase him this time around. He’s aware that he’s crying but ignores his core impulses as he raises his hand to his parted lips, tastes the bitter capsules in his hand, about to swallow maybe six or seven of them. But then, suddenly, his movements falter and his body shudders all over, because of course his anxiety would stop him from doing this, and whoever’s on the other side of the door finally manages to unlock it from the outside and break in to see the sorry sight.
“Virgil!” The shout sounds all too familiar. Janus rushes over and immediately takes hold of the wrist connected to the hand that’s clamped over Virgil’s mouth; the fear on his friend’s face counters any coolness that he usually exhibits, looking shocked, almost guilty. “Virgil, spit out whatever’s in your mouth.”
How did he know? For a moment Virgil’s clueless, but then remembers just how perceptive and observant Janus secretly is. One of his courses is about psychology, he’d know if someone’s showing concerning signs. Brief memories of brightly coloured posters in doctors’ offices flash through his mind about signs that someone may be about to commit suicide: a sudden change in appearance (Virgil had told Roman he was thinking of growing out his hair, but really he was too nervous and unmotivated to visit the hairdressers), becoming withdrawn or detached (Patton gave Virgil a hug one time that he doesn’t quite remember feeling; he felt like he was watching his body from across the room), prolonged sadness or mood swings (he still feels guilty about reacting with annoyance when Logan pointed out that he seems a little more melancholy lately). Janus would know these things. Those posters are probably all over the psychology textbooks, he’s probably read that list of signs a hundred times.
Apparently he’s taking too long to react, because Janus taps him lightly on the cheek with his other hand. "Don’t act like I can’t tell what you’ve got in there.” He tugs at Virgil’s arm gently, his voice strict and serious sounding while his movements are delicate, not violent or made out of anger like Virgil had expected. "I’m not leaving you until I know you’re okay. Spit it into the sink.”
Fresh tears well up in his eyes as he removes his hand from his mouth and spits the pills into the porcelain bowl. His plans are all over. Again.
"That’s better.” Janus’ voice immediately softens, although still maintaining a serious and concerned tone as his eyes stay fixated on Virgil’s face. "Much better. Is there anything else you’ve done?”
Virgil shakes his head and inhales sharply as his brain finally catches up, he’s failed yet again but this time it’s different because he’s been caught, caught by the psychology student of all people, and now he’s going to tell everyone else - a string of breathy sobs steal the rest of the air from his lungs. "I’m sorry—“
"No, none of that. No apologising.” Removing his grip on Virgil’s wrist, Janus instead moves to hold his hand comfortingly. "Do you think you can talk to me about this? I'm not going to pressure you, but I will ensure that you talk to somebody, at least.”
"Don’t you— don’t you have a class soon?” Virgil uses his free hand to rub the tears from his face, but the action doesn’t really do much as the old tear tracks are quickly replaced with new ones. This is the first time in months that he’s let himself cry uncontrollably like this in front of someone else; his cheeks feel warm with embarrassment.
Janus notices this and raises one eyebrow, his expression appearing almost hurt. "You think I'm going to prioritise a class over a close friend of mine who just tried to kill himself? That I've found you trying to swallow the pill bottle and now I'm just going to leave you alone?” There’s a beat of silence as Janus examines Virgil’s face, seemingly finding something amongst the chapped lips and avoidant eyes that proves, perhaps, deep down, Virgil really did expect for him to leave for a class in which he could easily ask for notes from someone who’ll actually show up. His voice drops, almost to a whisper. "Really?”
Virgil’s throat feels scratchy and dry as his breath hitches again. "I…”
Memories start to flood his mind again, but these are different. The side glances that Janus would give him that Virgil passed off as nothing - people look at things and other people all the time, right? The hushed whispers to their other roommates, him telling Logan that tonight’s a great opportunity to stargaze, telling Patton that there’s a new cafe in town that sells amazing Belgian chocolate with its drinks, telling Roman and Remus that he thinks they’d love the new film coming to the local cinema. He probably also suggested to them, when Virgil wasn’t there, that they should take their reclusive friend too. That he deserves a sweet treat. That he’d love to know about the upcoming meteor shower.
And now that Virgil thinks about all those events, when plans were unintentionally interrupted by stargazing or platonic coffee dates or movies, he remembers the soft looks, the carefree laughs, the gentle touches. Remus really went out of his way to make sure Virgil had easy access to his favourite snacks during the film while Roman congratulated him with hugs when he won the Smash tournament. Patton paid for the entire coffee date despite Virgil’s protests and seemed to catch his eyes with a fond glance as he kissed him on the cheek playfully just to see him smile. Logan caught him looking down at the traffic and the streetlights below him and cupped Virgil’s face with his hand, lifting up his chin so he could see the breathtaking array of constellations that shone despite the light pollution of the ruthless city.
How would they have reacted if they didn’t distract him from his plans in time? If Janus wasn’t there to see the signs and alert them? Virgil pictures their faces, solemn, tear-stricken, in agony of losing a friend. And then he makes eye contact with the man in front of him again, the one who just saved his life, and amazingly, this isn’t even the first time.
"I’ll tell you about everything.”
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rentfreecat · 4 years ago
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Final Fantasy and Kingdom Hearts Fanfic Recs
so yeah I figured I should get around to making a list of some of my faves to promote them, I’ve got a big enough collection of bookmarks now. in no particular order. not all of them are necessarily complete or alive
Final Fantasy VII
The Gold Saucer’s Golden Arches by belderiver
Before he doomed the world to ash and ruin, Sephiroth wanted a burger.
note: Sephiroth + sudden hunger pang = mcgold
Meetings by Yinza
Aeris reflects on her few encounters with Sephiroth over the years since her escape from the lab.
note: Aerith having known Sephiroth before is just one of my favorite headcanons
lather, rinse, repeat by annperkinsface
She knows she shouldn't confuse this act of kindness for anything else, but it's hard, when Aerith is draping a towel over her shoulders, when Aerith is warm at her back, humming as she works a thick lather across her hands.
note: adorable Aerti. Aerith being a weirdo. Tifa blushing and being kinda horny. perfect. in case you couldn’t tell I ship it.
In Circles by Larissa
Tifa hates Midgar, and yet she stays, and she stays, and she stays.
Character study/pre-game gap-filler. Written for the Tifa Zine.
note: beautiful mood piece
the nodding golden tansy by Kieron_ODuibhir
“You think this troubles me?”
“Yes,” said Cloud, without looking up from his tea.
note: one of my fave takes on Seph and Cloud’s relationship. wonderfully quiet and melancholy.
not one before another by Kieron_ODuibhir
1) Sephiroth almost corrected the first person who called Aerith his sister, a woman they’d met before they were even out of Midgar’s slums complimenting him on taking such good care of her, while their mother shopped.
2) The other half of Project S took after their father.
3) Blue eyes contemplated him narrowly for several seconds, and then Genesis’ smirk came back, lying on his face more easily, somehow. “So brothers-in-arms to the skirmish shall we hence?”
4) It felt wrong to be relying on anybody but Mother, but Mother…only cared about Sephiroth, and it wasn’t fair. Loz sniffled. “Will she take care of Yazoo, too?”
5) “I’m glad he’ll have a big brother,” she said, as Sephiroth crossed the room. “Little ones always need someone looking out for them.”
Sephiroth nodded, and bent forward, and peered at the squashed little pink thing until it stirred, objecting probably to cool air on its face. “What’s his name?”
“Cloud."
(Five times in five worlds where Sephiroth was somebody's brother, and one where he wasn't anymore.)
note: exactly what it sounds like. personal fave is 4.
Angels Still Have Faces by Kieron_ODuibhir
On the fourth day, Sephiroth looked out a window and spotted his two friends together on one of the outdoor training fields, once again exchanging harsh words, only for Angeal to wheel around and storm off at the end.
note: fics where someone other than the main character time-travels are amazing and this is that and also outsider pov mother bear Sephiroth who doesn’t know what pizza is
Final Fantasy IX
puppet play by zalzaires
starting a drabble collection for ffix. i mostly just write about kuja so hence the name.
note: my personal fave is "curtains, bookends, stars of the show” because Kuja is such so... Kuja in there
Final Fantasy XV
ffucc the wedding by Givethemtriumphnow
Gift for Victortor, inspired by their fabulous ffucc Universe.
Noctis and Luna are the same person, one soul split into two bodies.
In a world where everyone lives and nothing hurts, the wedding is still a symbol of the peace, and the show must go on. Noct and Luna just can’t wait for what comes afterwards: the Big Reveal.
note: I just really like the one person two body trope okay? pretty entertaining read!
Poor Wayfaring Stranger by lithos_saeculum
Out on a mission, Cor Leonis finds a teenager, lost and sick and partway to becoming an MT. Against the advice of all and sundry, he brings him back to Insomnia. There's not a lot of love lost for MTs in the Citadel, but some of its inhabitants may still be young enough to put aside their prejudices.
note: also on my list of likes is MT Prompto trope, and honestly fuck canon that’s just there for inspiration. TW for implied pedophilia and stranger danger in one of the later chapters.
Will You Be There, Standing at the End of the War by Adel Mortescryche (Mortescryche)
When they're attacked by the Imperial Forces at Tenebrae, Regis wasn't prepared to be rescued alongside Noctis, Lunafreya and Ravus by the Commanding General of the enemy forces. Not after the man already cut Sylva down before them.
He was even less prepared for the face lying in wait behind the mask.
He dropped down to one knee, and rather pointedly cupped the left side of Drautos’ head, delicate, making no move to actually hide the fury raging through him.
“Talk, Titus.” Regis whispered. “Before I take this airship down from the sky.”
note: Drautos time-travels and is an absolute bastard. I like seeing his and Regis’s exchanges!
For Want of a Flan by magicgenetek
For want of some patience, Ifrit never freed Ardyn from Angelgard to rebel against the Astrals.
For want of Ardyn, Nifleheim never invented MT Troopers.
For want of MT Troopers, Lunafreya and Ravus were able to escape with Regis, and Nifleheim never cornered Lucis in their war.
For want of a kidnapping, Luna, Noctis and Prompto were able to work together to get ready for the prophecy, and Ravus is ready to suplex an Astral to make sure someone survives the prophecy.
For want of separation, the four of them go to Angelgard to figure out what secrets lay there, and accidentally adopt Ardyn into their plans to save the world.
For want of 2000 years’ prep time, Ardyn’s going to have to get up to speed on the modern world fast if he wants revenge or to fulfill his half of the prophecy.
note: has a good deal of worldbuilding and linguistics nerdery. I like that. I also like the recovery element of Ardyn’s arc.
A Little More Time by Asidian
The sun is brilliant overhead – set in a blue sky dotted with clouds that float like wisps of spun sugar through the high arc of the heavens.
It's more than lovely. It's entrancing, and Noctis takes one long, final look before he turns his gaze back earthward. His vision dances with sunspots for a moment, afterimages from the blinding light – but when it clears, Noctis sees a small black dog there, patient and watchful as always.
Umbra has been waiting.
"Alright," Noctis says. "We're ready to go back."
note: short, punchy, and absolutely chilling
Eschaton by nirejseki
Sure, it's the end of the world, but that just means someone's got to fix it.
And then the world found its somebodies.
(aka, with Noctis gone into the Crystal and no one sure when he'll be back, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto end up saving the world one piece at a time)
note: I like worldbuilding and MTs alright? and schoolteacher Gladio will never not be funny/great
Astra Inclinant by thekindmagic
“Look,” Aranea laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not trying to shit on your destiny. But the way I see it? A lot of the time, there’s no big mystery. You either keep going, or you don’t.”
note: how could I not rec femslash? beautiful melancholy mood. I’m so sad for Luna
Starlight and Shadow by ohmyfae
While Noctis and his friends are setting up camp, Ardyn Izunia happens to accidentally stumble onto the runes of their haven. The magic of the haven pulls him into two halves; One is Ardyn, a small child with a bit of an ego and a limited knowledge of the world at large, and the other is the Scourge, shambling and groundless, determined to seek out its former host and consume the light it finds there.
note: fun read!
On the Care and Keeping of Prompto by ohmyfae
Congratulations! You have been chosen to ensure the well-being of PROMPTO, who is: 1. An absolute darling. 2. Of more intrinsic value than you, your significant other, your ancestors, and the world at large. 3. Two years and four months old 3a. This is very important to remember 4. Behind you.
note: also a very fun and fluffy read! also the fic that introduced me to the amazing crackship of Ardyn and Cor, and I say crackship but... I want more of it
Kingdom Hearts
The Price of Melodrama by LawnNinja
Xemnas never imagined that one of the hardest parts of his plan would be the stupid names.
note: deny it all you wish but you know this happened. also XULORD
(i don’t need you to) Worry for Me by Cygna_hime
In a fit of defiance and desperation, Vanitas disobeys his Master's orders and goes looking for the missing half of his heart. He finds it, and something else as well, something he never expected to find anywhere...
note: I absolutely love this I’ve read this like... 3 or 4 times? go read it now
Bleeding Heart by keelahselai
Xemnas was fundamentally a bad person. Born from the fracture of Xehanort's heart, he had only caused pain to those he banded together with under the promise of finding a way to return all their hearts. He shattered the Organization he'd founded for his own gain, and he understood this with cool indifference. But beneath everything, carefully kept folded away and hidden from Xigbar's prying eye, he was also made from the other inhabitant of Apprentice Xehanort's body. And as troubling as it could be to their plan, he kept it hidden from all.
(Or, how Terra managed to keep his head above the water for thirteen years)
note: I absolutely love the.. I don’t know what it’s called, but let’s say Terramas even though that sounds like a ship name... I absolutely love that trope. this one has such just a great mood y’know?
By Choice or Chance by Six_Piece_Chicken_McNobody
Lazy afternoons are a universal phenomenon.
note: I just love Xehaqus’s tragedy. this is nice, fluffy, and one of them is going to murder the other in his own selfish lust for power. (I know III said Xehanort had other motivations but I just love the “he’s such an utter bastard that all his relationships are going to end disastrously” interpretation)
Whatever Will Be by NanakiBH
Once I tell you the words I've been unable to say, it will be goodbye.
note: more explicitly melancholy mood than last one, still great.
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