#the only time ive gone in one entrance visited another and then left by a third

[my-name-is-not-victoria]

Surfacing

[cdroloisms]

uhhhh ,, , hi ??

i feel bad bc i havent been here in. LITERALLY forever lmao - hope you guys r all doing good!! ive been working on some stuff but it’s been pretty slow going, and school is also A Thing, so i definitely havent been writing as much as i’d like. 

as an apology, have this? really self-indulgent feel-good syndicate + c!dream centric oneshot bc i felt like writing this so u know. why not. 

tws: implied torture, abuse, self-harm, disordered eating, starvation mentions, prison arc themes - overall everything’s just blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mentions, not too much angst here for once! c!sam and c!quackity critical, sorry guys but we r still in the prison arc and they still r on their “fuck human rights” arcs. 

Dream leaves.

 It’s a surprise - or maybe it isn’t one, Niki isn’t quite sure. She’d never grown to quite trust the man, she knows, and she can’t really tell if the bitter twist of emotion that swells up her chest when Phil comes to her city with the news is betrayal or resignation - what can she say. She’s gotten more than her fair share of broken promises. They don’t exactly faze her anymore. 

 None of them seem all that surprised, save Techno, who entirely fails to hide the worry that flickers over his face when he calls the Syndicate meeting to officially inform them of what’s going on. She shares quick, careful glances with the other members when his back is turned - despite how many times he’s been burned, Techno still seems so adamant at holding onto every thread, trusting all too easily those who would use and leave him behind without a second glance. He can handle himself, she knows. Still, that’s not going to stop her from slapping Dream upside the head for being yet another worthless person to betray her friend’s forgiving nature. 

 Nothing much changes in the next few weeks. Niki has to admit, it’s strange without Dream around - he’d not been an ally, much less a friend before dipping completely, but he had been some sort of constant - and Niki is self aware enough to know that she misses him, a little, the same sort of way you might miss an old routine once it’s gone, if only for the familiarity. She still visits Techno and Phil with various baked goods, knowing that Phil would have his hands full just keeping Techno from running himself ragged - makes sure to check on Ranboo, whose nerves have inevitably returned with Dream’s disappearance. To be honest, she doesn’t worry as much as he does - ally or not, she’s spent enough time with the Dream that had left prison to expect that he won’t exactly be able to get himself very far should he come for the four of them, and doesn’t particularly care about he might pull with the rest of the server - if things get bad, she’s sure Phil and Techno will have it handled. She asks Phil, once, what happened, and he shrugs. 

 “I don’t know, mate,” he heaves a chest to the side, pulling out a stack of stone blocks that Niki gladly holds for him. “One day we woke up and he was just- gone. Everything. Was like he wasn’t ever there at all.” 

 Niki hums. “Why’d you think he’d do something like that?” 

 “If I could understand half of why Dream does what he does, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we?” He smiles at her from behind a crate. “Shall we bring these things upstairs and start on dinner?” 

 Niki laughs, knowing that the conversation about Dream is over. “Of course, Phil.” 

Dinner is a welcome distraction; all of them have gotten better at cooking in recent months, between her baking and the veritable library of recipes Phil knows that she’s never even heard of, but Phil is still the only one she really trusts to hold his own behind the stove - Ranboo is still a little too nervous around water, and fire, and much of everything, and though Techno can be a perfectly capable cook, he’s been distracted as of late. She has a strong feeling that left to his own devices, he’d just grab a stack of steak and disappear for another few weeks, searching the server for information. 

 Honestly, she’s a little thrown off by his behavior - he’d not done anything like this with Tommy, if she remembers right, and had hardly seemed affected by Wilbur’s betrayal on the Sixteenth at all (then again, she was a little too lost in her own head to notice if he was.) She tosses her head over to ask Phil, who’s leaning over a few carrots he’s slicing to throw into the stew he’s making, and the man pauses, frowns. 

 “From what I know,” he starts, words slow, careful, “they’d spent three months in there together, and the conditions weren’t exactly- stellar. According to what Techno said, I’d assumed they had come to some sort of understanding.” He goes back to the carrots, expression dipping into shadow and out of sight. “Guess I was wrong.” 

 Niki hums. She can see it, sort of - spending months together with someone, no matter how insufferable, probably would end with some degree of attachment - she thinks back to plotting through sleepless nights with Jack, anger and grief leaving them simmering, crabs in the same pot of boiling water, remembers looking into his dead-eyed gaze and seeing her own stare back - and feels a brief pang of guilt. Besides, Techno is Techno. She’d never met someone so willing to forgive, understand, reach out despite everything that’s happened - for Dream to take advantage of that feels almost too obvious. Of course he would - what were they all thinking?

 “He’s Dream,” she says as if that explains everything, flipping open the oven door and feeling a wave of heat blast her face. Phil hums lowly, understanding. “I hope Techno will be alright.” 

 “He’s tough,” Phil cracks a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “And he has us on his side. He’ll get through.” 

 Niki opens her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the front door slamming open. Outside their quaint little cottage, the wind howls - it sounds like the beginning of a blizzard out there, flurries painting the world in a thick blanket of white. In the door, Techno strides into the entrance with loud, decisive movements, shutting the door loud enough to make the walls shake. Inadvertently, Niki finds her eyes drawn to the small pile of snow that he’s tracked into the house - Techno’s usually so careful to kick it all off on the porch, never liked it much when there was a pile of melting ice and snow dampening the floorboards and soaking into his shoes. He huffs harshly, stripping off a snow-dusted scarf from his face - a long, multicolored abomination that had been the product of her attempting to teach Ranboo how to knit. Phil has reached his side, hands splayed over his upper arms, eyes soft in the corners from concern. 

 “Techno, mate-” his tone is chiding but his movements gentle as he brushes snow off of Techno’s signature cloak, “you’ve gotten snow everywhere. What were you doing, dueling a blizzard?” 

 Techno shakes his head, not meeting Phil’s banter as usual, fur sticking up from the snow melted into it. His voice is gruff and holds little humor - unconsciously, Niki feels her shoulders tense. 

 “Phil, call a Syndicate meeting.”

 ---

 Phil, per usual, is unrelenting, so it’s not until a quick dinner and some hurried messages to their final member later that the Syndicate is gathered in their meeting room, Techno pacing the length of the room as they wait in their respective seats. He looks less frazzled than he did when he first entered the house, in part due to Phil’s sitting him down to eat and picking through his fur to smooth it out of its windblown spikes and tangles - Techno had grumbled at him to stop preening him, but looked a lot more relaxed by the time they were all finished with their food. Still, his ear flicks periodically, twitching toward ssome sound that Niki can’t hear, movements tighter and jerkier than she is used to. He’d always been a little flightier after the prison, but not quite like this - everything here feels like that but dialed up to eleven. Inexplicably, it reminds her of Dream. 

 “Techno?” Phil gestures towards his seat, prompting, and he settles into it with an obliging huff. 

 “Y’know, Phil, the code names are kinda pointless if we never use ‘em,” he says, words carrying no real heat - he looks back at the rest of them, lips thinning into a line. “Anyway. I called this meeting because I found a couple leads on Dream.” 

 “O-oh,” Ranboo stutters, tail lashing behind him. 

 “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, mate,” Phil reminds him gently, a sentiment that Niki affirms with a determined nod. 

 “There’ve been some reports- rumors, really,” Techno says, calling their attention again, and they all turn towards him, “of increased activity around the prison again. The Warden spending more time on its grounds, movement seen around the walls and around the portal- so I decided to go check it out for myself.” 

 Niki frowns, and watches as Phil does the same beside her - Techno had seemed to avoid the prison if he could help it, save for when he went on the initial mission to break Dream out. It was no secret to them that he didn’t exactly like the place. 

 “We could’ve helped if you asked,” Phil reminds him, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “I know, Phil. It’s just- that place is bad news. I’d rather keep you guys away from there if I can-” his hand goes to his head with a poorly hidden wince. “Sorry, Chat’s a little- worked up, at the minute.” 

 “Sorry, we’ll stop interrupting you,” Niki says, cutting off Phil before he says anything else. “So you went to the prison?” 

 Techno takes a second to gather his thoughts, mumbling quietly in the way that usually means he’s telling off Chat. “Right- I decided to stake out the portal. The rumors were right- Sam has been hanging around there, entered and left the prison four times yesterday. And today-” he hesitates, expression visibly darkening. “This morning, about an hour after the Warden arrived, Quackity came to the prison and went through the portal. He left the grounds about six hours later.” 

 “Quackity?” Niki frowns, eyes flicking over to how Phil has stilled in his seat. “What is Quackity doing at the prison?” 

 Phil ignores her question, reaching towards Techno, something indiscernible in his gaze. “Mate…”

 “He smelled of blood when he left,” Techno says, words sharp, and Niki feels her heart skip a beat. “Warden left about half an hour after, and I came back here.” 

 Ranboo clears his throat, sounding tentative. “Okay,” he drums his hand on the table when they turn towards him, eyebrows drawn, “but what, exactly, does this have to do with, uh, Dream?” 

 Techno and Phil trade glances, one of their bouts of unspoken conversation that Niki’s grown extremely used to. They seem strangely hesitant, she notes internally, Phil looking towards Techno with a question written clearly in the planes of his face. Techno sighs, a long puff of air through his lips as he closes his eyes and turns his face towards the table. 

 “You know how Dream was- injured,” he starts slowly, looking back up at them. Niki shifts uncomfortably - of course she noticed, it was impossible not to - if not the bandages that peeked under his sleeves and the cuffs of his pants, then how skinny he’d been, all skin and bones curled up uncomfortably in a pile at the corner of Techno’s couch. She’d not know the extent, by any means, and had always assumed that they’d been self-inflicted - she’d been in a bad enough place on her own before to know how your head can make you want to hurt, sometimes, how eating food can feel like choking on sawdust and the world could feel so much smaller when focused into delicate pricks of pain. Phil’s eyes are trained on Techno - on his face, then on the pinkish raised skin of a still-healing scar along his forearm, and she feels understanding settle like a rock in her gut. 

 “The Warden had apparently been lettin’ Quackity into the cell to torture Dream for the revive book,” Techno trails off, eyes narrowed and seemingly fixed on a random point of the opposite wall. “By the time I go there, it’d been goin’ on for months.”

 “But wait,” Ranboo’s tail moves even more erratically behind him, “You mean you think he’s back- there? How?” 

 “He has to be back in the prison,” Techno points out. “I can’t imagine anyone besides him that the two of them are goin’ to just start torturin’- Sam had been iffy about the whole thing when Quackity started in on me. It has to be Dream in there again.” 

 “But how did he get in there, then?” Ranboo asks, visibly confused. “Last time it took the entire server to lock him up!”

 “There were no signs of a struggle,” Niki points out, matter of fact. “I believe you, Techno, but I don’t really know how they managed to drag him back so easily. I can’t imagine he was jumping at the chance to go back in there.” 

 Techno shakes his head with an uneasy sigh. 

 “I have a feelin’ of what might’ve happened,” he says quietly. “And I really hope that I’m wrong and he’s less of an idiot than I think he is.” 

 ---

 They set out to investigate - and maybe attack - the next day, Techno and Phil taking on the bulk of preparations as Ranboo stays behind. He’d been understandably uneasy about the whole mission, so they’d left him back by the Syndicate room to set off their pearls in case anything went wrong. (“By the end of the day,” Techno had said, giving Phil a look with the corner of his lip quirked upwards, “don’t be like Phil here and think I meant the end of the month, alright?”) They’d all be supplied with armor and weapons, thanks to Phil, but she’d been handed the bulk of their potions, arranged neatly in her inventory by type in case they’d be needed. She lingers in the back of the room as Phil and Techno chat amiably over the sound of making last minute repairs on their armor, listens to Techno’s ceaseless reminders for Phil to be careful, watches as they make sure that their stasis chambers are properly prepared should they need them.

 (She watches as Phil nudges Techno’s shoulder when he lingers behind a certain chair, empty as long as she’s been part of the Syndicate, the fountain behind it bubbling quietly without a pearl inside. Techno sighs, expression strange. 

 “Should’ve set him up with one,” he says, quiet, and Phil pats him on the back. 

 “You couldn’t have known, mate. We wanted to wait a little before telling him about the Syndicate, remember?” 

 Techno hums, noncommittal. “Still.”)

 They Nether travel to the site of Techno’s lookout, which ends up being a little shambling thing with dirt walls dug into a small hill looking towards the prison portal, having hardly enough space to fit the three of them. Phil looks at it with no small amount of apprehension, and Techno shrugs lightly, wearing an expression that makes Phil turn to him with a look that makes Niki break into giggles. Techno crosses his arms- “in my defense-” and Phil looks up at the dirt ceiling with a long-suffering sigh. 

 “You couldn’t have made this a little roomier, mate?” Phil asks, voice dry as kindling, and Techno raises his hands by his head. 

 “Hey hey, it’s discreet, it gets the job done, it’s perfectly structurally sound-” the sound of the leftmost wall crumbling, along with the cloud of dust that puffs from it and fills their tiny space, undermines the tail end of his statement and leaves him sputtering, Niki falling into another fit of quiet giggles. Underneath it all, Phil sighs again, raising his wings behind him. 

 “...these are going to take so long to clean out.” 

 To his credit, Techno looks sheepish. “Sorry, Phil.”

 They sober up quickly; Techno turns around to the opposite side of the hill, where he’s hidden some peepholes inside the dirt - Niki settles herself by one, leaning forwards to put her eye to it and catch a glimpse of the prison looming over the water. It’s been repaired since the breakout, she notes, the gaping hole in the roof completely gone and replaced with obsidian, as intimidating and undamaged as it had been before, if not more so. Phil makes a considering sound from behind her.

 “Same plan as last time?” He asks, and Techno shakes his head. 

 “They’ve probably reinforced it, and Dream’s blueprints won’t include anything new the Warden’s added. I wouldn’t be surprised if they moved Dream to a different location completely. We don’t want to draw too much attention, either, we were cutting it pretty close during the breakout.” He narrows his eyes. “I was thinking we’d try something a little stealthier, this time. “ 

 He gestures at Niki, who blinks back at him with wide eyes. 

 “You got a couple of invis potions for us?”

 She distributes the potions among them all, one regular and two splash potions of invisibility each, and Techno points towards the prison once she’s done. 

 “The most important thing is to get through the portal,” he says with a grim expression. “Worst comes to worst, once we’re inside we can always blast our way through - but gettin’ through that portal is our first priority.” 

 Phil narrows his eyes at him. “The portal is locked, though. We’ll need to follow someone else inside- and I’m pretty sure Sam uses pearls, so he’s out.” 

 Techno nods. “Which is why I’m bankin’ on the prison gettin’ another visitor today. We’ll just have to wait.” 

 Niki swallows. “Do you mean-”

 “Quackity?” Techno turns away, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m not totally sure, but he’s not exactly the type to just give up on his goals. He’s pretty predictable- an empire needs an emperor, always needs something new to rule- you know the type,” he says, tipping his head towards Phil. “He’ll be mad at Dream for disappearin’ on him and won’t miss the opportunity to prove he has the upper hand again. I’m not sure that he’s going to come today-”

 “-but you wouldn’t really be surprised, either,” Phil finishes for him, eyes steely with cold determination. “I trust your judgement, mate. Just stay safe- from what I’ve heard, Quackity has been...erratic.” 

 “When is he not,” Techno huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, Phil. Just be careful, both of you. Don’t get too close. And if things get messy- which is what we’re tryin’ to avoid, by the way- then don’t do anything too risky. Our priority is gettin’ in and out alive.” 

 “We can handle ourselves, Techno,” Niki reminds him with a small smile. “And Ranboo is there in case anything goes wrong.” 

 “Alright, then. Here’s the plan.” 

 ---

 It takes quite a long time for Quackity to arrive, long minutes that Niki spends fidgeting in the corner of the room, brushing her hands over seams of the netherite plates that Phil had shoved into her hands, back at the Syndicate room. The set is inexplicably light - not weightless, by any means, as it is still netherite, but not nearly as bulky as any set of netherite armor she’s owned or seen in the past. The runes are precise, lines thin and exact, written with graceful strokes of lapis. 

 “Phil’s the best metalworker I’ve ever met,” Techno tells her with a small grin, catching her in the middle of tracing what she can make out as an Unbreaking rune along the metal strapped to her forearm. “But then again, he’s had the time to practice.” 

 “Are you calling me old again?” Phil huffs, and Techno flashes a smile her direction before looking at Phil with a slight grin. 

 “Well, Chat is,” he says, lips twitching when Phil glares back. 

 “You can’t just blame Chat every time you insult me, you little shit,” Phil groans, and Techno only grins wider. 

 “Phil, my ad revenue,” he complains, a dramatic lilt to his voice that has Niki stifling a snort, and Phil’s glare only grows deadlier. 

 “You’ll have more than your ad revenue to worry about if you keep this up,” he mumbles, going back to keep watch at one of the peepholes and stilling as he does. “Shit- Techno, Quackity’s here.” 

 Techno straightens up, hindered slightly by the low ceiling of their room. “Alright- we all know the plan, right?” 

 Niki nods in the affirmative, pulling out a splash invis and letting it settle in her hand, the glass cool beneath her fingertips. She reaches into her inventory and lets her armor fade into it, takes a deep breath and watches as the two across from her do the same. She doesn’t wear armor often, but so close to the prison, feeling mining fatigue settling deep into her bones - she’s never missed the security it offers more. Techno keeps watch, waiting- drops his arm in a signal. Now. 

 Niki throws the potion at their feet, flinching back at the sound of shattering glass and feeling its effects seep into her skin. When she opens her eyes, she can’t see anything but the inside of the room that they’d holed themselves in and the faintest of wisps rising from where their feet must be, curling around the grass. 

 (Please let this work, she begs to no one in particular as they walk towards the prison. And if you can hear me- please keep us all safe.)

 She hardly breathes as they follow Quackity across the path, holding someone’s hand in her own - Phil’s, by the feel of it - careful to muffle her footsteps in the grass and stand still whenever Quackity’s eyes come a little too close. Thankfully for them, he seems focused, hardly stopping or looking around at all as he walks towards the prison’s portal, movements stiff as he walks forward. He punches the button on the wall particularly harshly, and Sam’s voice comes crackling through a speaker a second later. 

 “I’m here for my visit,” Quackity says, punctuating the sentence with a snort of laughter that doesn’t sound particularly sincere. Niki hasn’t seen him in a long while, not after everything that happened in Pogtopia, and she feels a chill worm down her spine - this man looks nothing like the one that had laughed and danced and sung at her birthday party what feels like an eternity ago. What happened? 

 Sam sighs, the sound turning into a sharp burst of static through the speakers. “Hello Quackity,” he says, voice deep and tired. “Please step into the portal after I tell you to and then wait on the other side.” 

 “I know the drill, Sam,” Quackity rolls his eyes. “Just because the bastard was gone for a few weeks doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten how this damn place works.” 

 “Just going through protocol, Quackity,” Sam replies, and something about this response has Quackity exploding into a brief fit of laughter, the sound grating against Niki’s ears. She feels her grip tighten on Phil’s hand, air caught in her throat. 

 “Protocol- ha. Whatever you wanna tell yourself, pal.” Quackity smiles, cold and cruel, and Niki tries not to think about how she’d seen that same grin on Wilbur, eyes sparkling from the light of the lanterns hung from the bridges and walls of their ravine, remember how she’d looked into them and realized her old friend wasn’t there, anymore. Quackity disappears into the portal, and after a second, the hand around her own pulls her inside of it too.

 On the other side, Quackity taps his foot impatiently, crossing his arms and waiting- Sam’s voice comes through the speakers again, words clipped. 

 “Go through the portal,” he says, and Quackity does- once again, they wait for a second for his body to disappear, then go within it themselves, pressed close enough together within its frame for Niki to feel the warmth of a wing wrap around her shoulders for a quick second before they’re out of the hot, stifling air of the Nether and into a large, neatly made lobby of blackstone and quartz. They duck into a corner, watching as Quackity moves towards the front counter, the Warden waiting there with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks- tired. His movements are slow, footsteps loud against the floor, shoulders tense and back hunched. He walks around the counter, sword strapped to his belt, and Niki feels her breath hitch at the sight of dried blood still stuck to the blade in patches and splatters.

 “He ready?” Quackity asks, holding his hands out - Niki catches a flash of metal as Sam drops something into them, watches as Quackity raises what ends up being a pair of shears, dangerous-looking and gleaming with enchants, to the light. 

 “Yes,” Sam says, side-eyeing Quackity with a small glare. “You know, it’s supposed to be your job to clean those things off when you’re done with them.”

 “I told you, busy day back in Las Nevadas yesterday,” Quackity waves a hand- “I’ll do it, alright? Don’t get all pissy now. What happened to being partners?” 

 “You said we’d be done with this months ago, Quackity,” Sam sighs, and Niki feels a light tug on her arm as Quackity and Sam begin to walk towards the wall to the right of them, breathes in slow and deep as she follows Techno and Phil towards the others. The wall yawns open with the hiss of redstone firing and pistons pulling blocks upwards, opening into a dark hallway that feels like entering the maw of some sort of giant, insatiable beast. They step inside as one, and the door shuts behind them. 

 “We’ll be done soon enough,” Quackity says, and Niki feels hairs rising on the back of her neck. “Trust me.” 

 They stalk forwards through a labyrinth of blackstone, Niki brushing the palms of her hand against her clothes when it goes clammy from adrenaline. Halfway through, she pauses to tip back a second potion of invisibility, careful to keep her movements slow and steady as not to make a sound - the liquid is silvery, cool and light on her tongue, and she lets the effects wash over her with her breath caught in her lungs before moving forward. The tunnels are simpler than she’d expected, bearing little obstacles or checkpoints - Quackity makes a wry comment a second after (“Guard tunnels today, huh? Appreciate the hustle, pal-”) that confirms her suspicions. Despite the potion particles still whirling around their bodies and the sounds of their footsteps, too loud in her own ears, they manage to make it forwards without much trouble, entering a large room with a doorway filled completely with a curtain of lava. 

 “Set your spawn,” Sam says, still stoic, and Quackity rolls his eyes again before doing as told. Niki keeps looking back at the lava flowing past the wall, its heat filling the room and making her already slick palms even worse, and Sam moves to the side to flick a lever, eyes trained on the lava slowly bubbling in front of him. 

 “Give me your tools?” Quackity asks, and Sam sighs before doing so - Niki watches as he hands over a netherite axe, then potions, then a few raw potatoes that Quackity accepts and puts into his inventory. Sam raises an eyebrow once he’s done, hand tight around the handle of his trident. 

 “You bring your own sword, today?” He asks, seeming irritated, and Quackity shrugs. 

 “Sorry pal, I need to make a new one. Guess I’m borrowing yours again.” 

 Sam sighs again, louder, and hands over his sword as well, watching as Quackity swings it a few times experimentally. The blade skims a little too close to her on one swing and she can’t quite help the squeak that escapes her lips as she throws herself out of the way, feels her heart hammer in her ears as she backs up against the wall. Please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that please don’t hear that-

 “Quackity, wait.” Sam raises a hand, ear twitching as he looks over in her direction with narrowed eyes. “I think I heard something.”

 Oh fuck.

 “Well, guess show’s up then,” Techno drawls, and both of them whirl towards his voice, giving Niki enough time to pull her armor back on, scrambling to get her sword and shield in her hands as Phil does the same besides her. Pieces of armor appear where Techno is standing, then a bucket of milk- oh, why must her friends be so dramatic- and Techno’s standing there, smiling sharply, with Orphan Obliterator held loosely at his side. “Let’s get this done, then.” 

 As one, Techno and Phil blur into action - Techno moves forward to catch the prongs of Sam’s trident on his blade as Phil parries Quackity’s blows with his own sword- they move fluidly, easily covering each other’s backs as the room devolves into chaos. Niki remembers their guidance as she flits in and out of the fight, scoring quick hits to keep the Warden and Quackity off balance while remaining out of range from their weapons, and it’s not long before both of them have fallen with a spray of items and experience orbs scattered all over the floor. 

 Techno moves over to block off the exposed face of the bed with a block, looking over at the two of them with an uncharacteristically severe expression. “They’ll be back soon- we have to move fast. Niki, you have those fire res, right?” 

 She nods as she reaches into her inventory, finding the potion’s orange-pink glow and smashing it at their feet. They dive into the lava together, Niki scrambling to keep up, her arms struggling to move through the thick lava, loses sight of both until she flails into something directly in front of her and hands are pulling her up out of the lava. 

 “There you go, mate,” Phil smiles down at her as hauls herself to her feet, making a face at the feeling of the lava clinging to her clothes. “Yeah, swimming through lava isn’t exactly fun. You good?” She flashes him a thumbs up, and he laughs- “Niki, you’re still invisible.” She flushes pink- right.

 A few sips of milk later, she gives him a proper thumbs up, and he laughs, loud and bright. She looks past him to where Techno’s crouched over something- someone, she realizes with a start, in the corner. Dream’s back in prison clothes, ragged and ill-fitting, and he’s curled up with his back towards the front of the cell, shaking enough to be obvious even from where she’s standing. Techno speaks lowly, voice barely more than a deep rumble in the air, almost inaudible.

 “You there, Dream?” 

 She watches as Dream turns his head, looking up with wide, bleary eyes. His hair flops in front of his face, and something within her itches to brush it out of the way. “T-Techno?”

 “Yeah nerd, who else?” Techno smiles, and Dream seems to blink awake, drawing himself up with a shuddery breath. 

 “Techno- it’s a trap- what are you doing here?” he hisses, and Techno gives him a look, deadpan.

 “Yeah, yeah, it’s a trap- come on, Dream, we’ve been over this by now, bro. You have to know that their traps aren’t goin’ to do anything to me by now,” Techno rolls his eyes, reaching forward to steady his hands on Dream’s shoulders when the other man sputters and struggles to breathe. “Easy, now. Geez, you wanted to prove me wrong about being homeless bad enough that you came back here? We could’ve just made you a house, you know. You didn’t have to go this far.” 

 “I- they were gonna kill you,” Dream breathes, face twisted up uncomfortably, and his eyes flick past Techno’s face to where Phil and Niki are standing at the opposite wall of the cell. “All of you- they said-”

 “And that’s what I thought you’d say,” Techno groans. “Come on, you idiot, I thought you were smarter than this-” 

 “They were right there, Techno!” Dream fires back, eyes alight. “You- they were right there, what were you thinking, they could’ve-!”

 “And my best friend is a necromancer, remember?” Techno shakes his head. “Come on, Dream- Sam and Quackity? You know we can handle them in a fight, especially when you can just revive us if anything goes wrong. You don’t have to do this whole self-sacrifice thing, bro- there’s only so many times I can break into the same prison, y’know.” 

 “You’re so stupid,” Dream huffs, but he leans in anyway, head just barely settling against Techno’s shoulder. “I- I can’t believe. You’re so dumb.” 

 “Hey, don’t be sayin’ that to the guy that’s breakin’ you out of prison,” Techno laughs, slinging Dream over his shoulder with an easy motion and laughing harder when it makes him yelp. “That’s just bein’ ungrateful. You’re making Chat sad, man, and when they’re sad they don’t subscribe-” 

 “I regret this entirely,” Dream says, voice muffled against Techno’s shirt, tone completely flat. “Put me down- you idiot- I’m staying here. You’re worse than Quackity.” 

 “Rude. Now you’ve really made Chat mad. I demand an apology-” 

 “Boys, boys.” Niki can’t help giggling, watching the way their gazes snap towards her, rolling her eyes as she moves forward with a few potions held loosely in her hand. “Dream, do you want a health pot?” 

 Dream seems to deliberate for a second, before nodding at her, expression slightly strained. “...sure.” 

 “You two can finish your argument after we’ve broken out of the biggest maximum security prison on the server,” Phil drawls from behind her, arms crossed at his chest. “Come on, now, before Sam gets back.” 

 “Isn’t this the only maximum security prison on the server?” Techno asks aloud, an amused expression on his face - one that only gets worse when Phil glares at him with one ice-blue eye. 

 “Shut-” he sighs, shaking his head. “You two are chaotic little shits, you know that?”

 “Don’t compare me to him, Phil,” Techno complains, Dream mirroring his words with muffled protests of his own, and Phil breathes another drawn-out, long-suffering sigh as he rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

 “Niki, give us some fire res please?” 

 She finds the potion bottle between giggles, throwing it to the ground as she tries to choke down the laughter rapidly bubbling up her throat. “Of course, Phil.” 

 She looks back at Techno and Dream before jumping into the lava, the two of them once again lost in some sort of argument, Dream draped over Techno’s shoulder. He’s breathing easier now, she notes, and Techno looks looser too - a little less tense, leaning back with a perpetual quirk to the corner of his lip as they fire insults back and forth. This is familiar, she recognizes with a soft twist in her chest, the same way that Phil and Techno can finish each other’s sentences and look at each other with laughing eyes sharing the same memories of the past, the same way Ranboo watches Techno’s every step as he adjusts his stance and lifts his sword and Techno laughs and calls him a main character in turn, the same way she and Phil will settle together on the porch over cups of tea and sit at each other’s sides for hours. The rhythm between them is one well-established, the road well-worn - she imagines them, huddled in this dingy cell for months together, and breathes in slow and deep. 

 “Come on,” she smiles, making sure to keep it on her face when Dream meets her eyes with wide, startled ones of his own. Dream still isn’t an ally, and isn’t a friend. 

 But - she watches as he smiles back, something inexplicably warm in her chest - maybe, one day, he could be.

[zuluc]

@ukiiyo​ requested: so ive become a major diluc simp and i was wondering, could i get a scenario of diluc getting jealous that his s/o hangs out more with kaeya than with him? just need me some wholesome diluc fluff🥺👉👈

pairing: diluc ragnvindr x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: diluc’s jealous haha, kind of suggestive at the end :p

notes: i too have fallen down the hole of simping for diluc and i regret nothing,,, anyways i like this scenario because it got me thinking of how exactly he would react (ft. kaeya noticing and fanning the flames of jealousy [aHA get it]) and i’m hERE for it; i hope you like it!

The first time it happens, Diluc is mildly annoyed from having his time with you shortened.

He’s already staring holes into Kaeya the moment he steps into the tavern. His brother, or rather adopted brother, has a cheeky grin on his face when he pulls out the stool next to you, abruptly interrupting your conversation with Diluc. You weren’t talking about anything in particular, just a casual conversation that Kaeya did not hesitate to bring you out of.

“Say, y/n,” he leans in closer to you with his chin resting in his palm, “would you like to accompany me to Springvale?”He looks at you expectantly before quickly darting his gaze to Diluc and back to you. The tavern owner raises a brow.

“What business do you have there, anyways? And with them, no less.” He places the glass he was cleaning on the counter and glares straight ahead.

“Don’t worry over it,” Kaeya says simply, “come now, y/n, before it gets too dark.” He stands up and makes his way out the door, his hand waving in behind him. You give Diluc an apologetic look and look at the side at the people in the tavern. They’ve been drinking away all night and should be a little too disoriented to know what is going on. 

But it wasn’t like they weren’t aware about what was going on between you two.

You lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek and pull back, “I’ll see you later.” You hop off the stool and follow Kaeya. Diluc clicks his tongue in annoyance, Charles coming up behind him just in time to see your figure leave out the door.

“Oh,” the older man says, “I thought they’d be staying longer.”

“Hm,” Diluc only returns to cleaning the glass, unaware of the knowing look Charles is giving him. 

--

The second time is when he’s walking around Mondstadt. And he is aware but does not accept it for the sake of his pride.

Diluc expected to see you as you also had business with the knights, something he was a bit skeptical about, but what he didn’t expect is for you to be hanging around the cryo holder again.

Your face is bright and you’re laughing at something the male says as you both walk to Good Hunter. You don’t notice someone staring at you, but Kaeya does. Being the ever-so cunning, Kaeya smirks at the redhead and ushers you to take a seat at the table. Diluc cannot visibly hide his annoyance this time and there’s a pang in his chest.

Oh, no. Not because of him of all people...

You didn’t visit him again after the night at the tavern and it had been a few days since, only greeting him when you pass by in the streets when all he wants to do is wrap you in his arms. And now the annoying one is hogging all your attention?

He is about to approach the both of you until Kaeya his hands on your shoulders, making you face him. Diluc steps back and scoffs. 

He had plans for the day anyways. The Abyss Mages weren’t going to kill themselves off, right? He internally rolls his eyes at the thought and turns around to pass by the general store and out the side entrance. 

--

“Are you sure it’s going to work? It’s nice right? He’ll like it?” You’re bombarding the knight with numerous questions and he can’t but sigh. Kaeya places his hands on your shoulders to stop you from rambling on again. It was cute that you were so worried over doing something for Diluc after all.

It was simple: it’s his birthday soon and you wanted to plan something special. You wanted to cook for him and travelling around the towns (Xiangling had left for Liyue a few days ago and you had no time to get there, ask for assistance, and get back). Neither Lisa nor Amber had much interaction with Diluc and Jean kept everything to a professional level. The only one that you could have thought of to help out was Kaeya since they were “close” to say the least. 

Luckily, he was more than happy to assist.

“Yes, yes, and yes. I’ll tell you now, he’ll appreciate it, especially if it comes from you,” he looks to the side to see that Diluc is gone.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, also turning your attention to the area Kaeya is looking towards.

“No, nothing. Let’s finalize what you have, shall we?”

--

The third and final time is when he’d had it. There’s no denying that there’s something else going on.

You’ve been actively avoiding him now, making up excuses of helping clear out slimes near the bridge or things like that. Diluc only nods in response when you rush past him, but can see out the window that you’re meeting up with Kaeya.

Needless to say, he is in a bad mood.

There are numerous tasks for him to finish at the winery and even if he wanted to see you he couldn’t since he wasn’t in town. The only thing he’s hanging onto are the words you say to him before he leaves.

“Come to my home later, there’s something I want to show you!” You sounded excited and so proud of yourself that he couldn’t refuse. 

Well, he couldn’t refuse anything you asked of him anyways.

The day felt long and his patience was wearing thin. The last paper on his desk is finally placed neatly atop the pile he worked through for countless hours. Diluc sighs before cleaning up to arrive quickly into town to be able to see you faster. You always make his days better and the sight of your face relaxes the tension he holds in his shoulders. 

He makes it to Mondstadt in record time and your house is close, all the while he can hear some of the townspeople greet him. But apparently he’s only aware of the “Good evenings” or “hellos” not the “Happy day of your birth!” 

You come into his view, then he sees Kaeya next to you.

At this point all self-control has gone out the window and he makes no eye contact with the other male before pulling you by the wrist and into your house. You are shocked, especially when Kaeya winks from behind Diluc before the door closes.

“Diluc--”

“What have you been doing with him?” His voice sends chills down your back as his gaze holds yours steadily. You try to look at the walls, or anywhere, instead of his eyes but he holds your chin to make you look at him. He has you backed up against the wall, his other hand still holding onto your wrist. 

Diluc is suddenly aware of a certain aroma in your house and he eyes you suspiciously, turning his head to look behind him. There on your dining table was an immaculate dinner. You took many hours to make the food and make it look pretty all for this moment.

“Uh...happy birthday?” You supply sheepishly when he diverts his attention back to you. He holds yet another staring contest before resting his face in your neck. 

“I figured you were getting too close to him...” he mumbles, letting go of you wrist to wrap both of his arms around you. You reciprocate the action, still confused at his sudden change in tone.

“I just wanted to make you something nice,” you say in a quiet voice. He pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he kisses your forehead.

“Thank you,” but he’s still a little peeved, “but why him?”

Then you put the pieces together, a smile on your face forming. He never outright said anything about this, never being the person to share his feelings so quickly, and you wanted to see how he would respond. “Were you perhaps, jealous?” 

He doesn’t say anything and you think you took it too far, but he elicits a gasp from you when he lifts you by holding your thighs, pressing you against the wall. Well, it was a while since he was with you.

“Yes,” he whispers into your ear,

“...very.”

His grip on you is strong and you look longingly at your hard work.

The food ended up becoming cold.

[uwuwriting]

Yandere ex w/ Midoriya and Bakugou

Request: Can I request some headcanons about Deku, Bakugou annnddd whoever else you'd like with reader and they are currently dating

Reaction to reaching you from your crazy ex boyfriend who is...very powerful and has managed to corner you, alone. You're scared, you're a civilian.

" oh shh. Don't cry baby, i'm here. Now that I'm here, you're all mine, now that you're done being silly. You and me forever"

( thought that'd get the creepy factor)

I'm just a sucker for rescue missions. I'm just so interested in how they'd approach that situation, how they'd comfort reader afterwards

Thank you. For reading this if you don't do this

Which is totally fine! - anonymous

Bruh rescue missions are just *chef’s kiss*. I’ve been having a mini Deku and Bakugou infatuation and I just wanna see more fics with these cuties and their civilian s/os. Like legit there aren’t enough fics with quirkless/civilian readers out there and I’m sad. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: stalking, attempted kidnapping, mentions of toxic past relationships, being chased, eventual fluff in the form of comfort, TW BEWARE. 

Midoriya Izuku/ Pro hero! Deku

-Izuku believed you were an angel walking on earth. 

-He met you in the brink of death *literally* when you stitched him up and stabbed an IV into his arm. 

-It was love at first sight for him tbh and he is proud to admit it too. 

-Soon enough -and after many many more visits to the hospital so he can be treated by dr. L/N- he asked you out and now you’re living together. 

-He knows about your ex and he hates him for what he did to you. 

-He has coaxed you into relaxing many nights after you’ve had terrible nightmares about your ex finding you again and this time not only putting your freedom on the line but also Izuku’s safety. 

-You know he is a pro hero and all but you can’t stop seeing him on your apartment floor, unmoving with your ex looming over him. 

-He is always there to chase that horrible darkness away and replace it with the warmth of his love. 

-So as time passed, thoughts of your ex became less and less frequent until they stopped popping up throughout the day all together and you were happy with that. 

-Then the universe decided that it should serve you with a good old traumatizing experience to spice things up. 

-You were walking home after your shift at the hospital was over, exhausted out of your mind when you felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise.

-It was like a sixth sense, knowing that something was up. 

- “Y/n-chan~”

-Your blood ran cold at the familiar voice, your mind going blank as you quickly fished out your phone dialing Izuku’s number while speeding up. 

- “Hey angel w-”

- “Izu he is here. H-he is f-following me.” 

-You heard his feet hitting the pavement on the other line as he ran down the busy street, completely forgetting about the patrol he was on. 

- “Where are you angel?”

-Sharing your location with him you took a sharp turn and into a convenience store, walking to the very back and hiding behind a few shelves, your eyes glazing over as you heard the sliding doors ding as your ex stepped inside not even a minute after you. 

-When did he get so close?

- “Izu please.” 

- “I’m almost there Y/N, I’ll protect you I promise.” 

-You held your breath as footsteps got closer, Izuku’s breathing keeping you grounded as they echoed through the other line. 

-Dipping behind another shelf you zigzagged through the aisles hoping to lose him as you slowly and quietly made your way to the entrance, your plan being to run outside and find Izuku. 

-Your plan though was cute short when an arm wrapped tightly around your waist bringing you flush with a sturdy chest, your ex’s head dipping into your hair and breathing in your scent in an exaggerated sniff. 

- “You like the chase Y/N-chan~? I’ve got you now.” 

-Izuku’s panicked voice could be heard coming from your phone as he listened to your ex talking to you. 

-A whimper of your actual boyfriend’s name left your lips in an attempt to get away from him but his grip on you tightened making a sob escape you as tears cascaded down your cheeks, too many awful memories of your past relationship flooding your mind. 

-You wanted your Izuku. 

- “Aww baby don’t cry. And my name isn’t Izuku so don’t make that silly little mistake again because it doesn’t make me happy when you call out other men’s names. I got you now and everything will be back to normal in no time. Just you and me my sweet Y/N.” 

-You thrashed around, your hands clawing at the arm wrapped around your waist and the other one that was holding your chin. 

-In your panic you didn’t even hear the ding of the store’s doors as your boyfriend stepped in, eyes immediately locking on your crying features and the outer fear in your eyes as you ex tried kissing your neck.  

-It took him mere seconds to untangle you from your ex’s grasp and pull you safely into his chest, a punch flying right into your attackers jaw as he fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

-His hands went immediately to cradle your head near his chest, rubbing soothing circles on your back as you sobs wracked through your body. 

- “Shh angel, it’s me I’m right here shh. He can’t hurt you Y/N.” 

-Police sirens echoed outside as a few officers poured through the double doors, Izuku scooping you up and taking you outside trudging the familiar road to your shared apartment. 

-You wouldn’t let go of his hero costume as he calmly set you on your shared bed, whispering to you that he was only going to the closet to help you both change. 

-It took him a lot of time to actually calm you down and when he managed it he called his agency to inform them that he would be taking the day off. 

-The only thing he could do after that was hold you as close to his chest as he possibly could, reassuring you that he wouldn’t be coming anywhere close to you from now on that he was officially gone. 

Bakugou Katsuki/ Pro Hero! Dynamight

-It was a stupid argument that escalated and now he found himself crashing at Kirishima’s. 

-You two hadn’t talked for about a week now and Bakugou feared that you had had enough of him and you would break up if he called. 

-He felt awful.

-He just wanted to go back home to you, kiss you, hug you, be back in his normal routine with the love of his life but no he had to be stubborn and push you to your limits with a silly argument that he doesn’t even remember what the fuck it was about. 

-It was the third sleepless night for him and he couldn’t stop his brain from drifting to you and what you might be doing. 

-You on the other hand were terrified out of your mind. 

-Not long after Katsuki stormed out of your apartment you had started getting texts from an unknown number saying things like “He is finally gone” and “Now we can be together again dolly.” 

-The nickname had sent shivers down your spine, memories of your toxic/yandere ex flooding your mind. 

-Katsuki had helped you run away from him and heal after those dark days. 

-Walking to the kindergarten you worked at became a constant threat.

-You were always looking behind your shoulder for anyone who might be following you, coming very close to calling Katsuki more than once when you thought that you had caught a whiff of your ex. 

-You began asking your coworkers to walk home with you using the excuse that it felt kinda lonely walking alone.

-Things reached a tipping point when the photos started coming in. 

-Photos of you in your class helping the kids, on your way to the station to catch your train every morning and even from inside your own house. 

-Photos of you putting on one of Katsuki’s hoodies was filled with manic scribbles of the word stop as a big red circle was drawn around your boyfriend’s sweatshirt. 

-It terrified you and you wanted nothing else than to call Katsuki and beg him to come back. 

-But despite it all your worthless pride and ego got in the way convincing you that you would fight your ex with your own two hands. 

-All those thoughts were tossed out the window when you heard your ex’s voice outside your apartment’s door on a late Friday night. 

- “Dolly open the door~” 

-In less than a second you had pushed the kitchen table in front of the door, your fingers hastily dialing Katsuki’s number, tears already streaming down your cheeks as your ex pounded at the front door, his voice and pleas becoming more and more aggressive as the seconds ticked by. 

-Two agonizing minutes passed before Bakugou answered, his gruff voice reaching your ears from the other line as he answered with a short “What”

- “Katsu please h-he is trying to get in. H-he is at the d-door. I-I don’t know what to do.” 

- “Baby lock yourself in our room and try to barricade the door. After that hide I’ll be there before you know it.”

-You could hear a door slamming shut and his hasty steps coming through the other line. 

-Doing as you were told you locked your bedroom door, pushing your dresser in front of it as more bangs came from the front door the legs of the kitchen table scraping the floor as the door almost rattled off its hinges. 

-Ducking underneath your bed you let out a few whines to which Katsuki answered with reassuring words. 

- “I’m almost there baby, I’ll save you. Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. I should be home with you right now keeping you safe from that lunatic. I’m sorry I love you so much.” 

- “Katsu please hurry please. I-I’m so scared. Please.” 

- “I can see our building don’t worry-” 

-A loud thud came from the kitchen and only a few seconds later something rammed into the bedroom door ripping another whimper from your throat. 

- “Oh my god Katsu he’s in our house!!” 

- “Y/N, dolly, why are you making this so difficult my love? I just want” *thud* “to love you” *thud* “the way you” *thud* “DESERVE!”

-In one finally push your dresser was finally knocked over as the door creaked slightly open, your ex squeezing through the crack a laugh and a breathy moan of your name escaping his lips as he stepped inside.  

- “Katsuki I lo-” 

-The only thing that Katsuki could hear was your scream as he barreled up the stairs to your apartment. 

-He was gonna skin that bastard alive for hurting you and then he would skin himself alive for allowing this to happen. 

-He will never forget the look of pure terror in your eyes as you ex was pining you on the floor, your eyes darting through the room desperately searching for a way to escape this. 

-Katsuki tackled your assailant, straddling his waist as he let punch after punch connect with the bastard's face as you cowered to the far corner of the room. 

-After a few minutes of relentless punching your ex was knocked out cold while Katsuki was cradling you to his chest, rubbing circles onto your scalp as you sobbed in his chest. 

-You don’t remember much of what happened later, too exhausted to process anything and too comfortable in Katsuki’s arms as he led you to Kirishima’s house to spend the night. 

-He refused to take you to a hotel, he thought you would feel safer in a familiar environment. 

-Kiri left you two alone as Katsuki prepared a bath and a change of clothes. 

- “Katsu…” 

-His name left your lips as a mere whisper and it broke his heart. 

- “I can’t go back to our house...He had been in there….he had taken pictures I-I” 

- “Shh it’s alright. It was getting kinda small for us anyways. Shh Don’t worry about it.” 

- “I’m sorry Katsu, I’m so sorry.” 

-It would take a lot of hard work to build up your sense of safety and he knew it but he was ready to give it his all for you. 

- “No need to apologize baby. You know I would do anything for you and your safety and I’ll be here next to you now matter what. I love you and I will never stop. You kinda have my wrapped around your finger, woman.” 

-You let out a weak giggle followed by an “I love you” of your own and a little peck on the lips, as you snuggled close to him, his arms bringing you safely to his chest in a way to calm your nerves. 

-You really did have wrapped around your finger.

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @wolfkid22​ @letscheereachotheron​ @ezoyscorner​ @luluwiie​ @threeamwriting​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses

[niksixx]

Close to Perfect

Requested: My idea 

Pairing: The Dirt!Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader 

Description: Your baby’s father doesn’t show up to the birth of your son, so Nikki takes his place. 

A/N: As always, your support is incredible. Reblog, comment, add tags <3 

Y/B/N: Your baby’s name

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on google. Credit to the owner.* 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a room filled with three other people that are comforting you and doing all they can to make you feel safe, you’ve never felt more alone and afraid. Sweat slicks every crevice of your body as you try to focus on the nurses hooking you up to machines and not the bone crushing contractions you’ve been feeling for an hour.

Your due date wasn’t quite near, but your baby boy wanted to make his appearance to the world a bit earlier. Your water had broke suddenly in the kitchen as you were preparing dinner, almost dropping the butter knife as the liquid trickled down your thighs. In a panic, you called the only person you could think of in that moment: Your son’s father.

As he chose not to be in your son’s life, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he refused to bring you to the hospital either. Begging and pleading as the contractions grew more frequent and painful did nothing but cause him to hang up the phone.

The only other option at that time was to call a cab, tipping generously at the end as the cab driver had to deal with your moans and whimpers from the backseat. Luckily there was a nurse with a wheelchair waiting for you at the entrance to the hospital.

As the nurses finish adjusting the IV, you wiggle around in the bed to try and find a comfortable position. A growl erupts from your belly, and instead of being graced with substance, you’re presented with ice chips.

While the contractions were growing more painful, you still weren’t fully dilated enough to start pushing. You opted for the epidural, promising to yourself that your next pregnancy would be all natural.

After the nurses left to wait on other patients, the solemn reality hit you. You were about to become a first time mother, and you were going to have to do it alone.

Calling your child’s father was useless. He’d never show up. He didn’t care enough about the life he helped create, and you refused to believe that you even needed him there. You could do this just fine on your own.

And then the epidural had worn off and as you reached ten centimeters dilation, it was time to finally push. But as the nurses and obstetrician were helping you adjust for labor, your cell phone chimed next to you.

With a stretch, you clicked the speaker, hoping to make the phone call quick as you were only minutes away from your first push. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. You know that Def Leppard cutoff shirt I always wear?”

The doctor gives you a quizzical look. “Uh, Miss--.”

“Yeah, I do,” Trying to mask the groan of pain, you bite down hard on your lip. The intensity of the contractions is only growing stronger now, and you’re not sure how long you can last. “Listen, Nikki, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Wait, don’t hang up! I just need to know if I left it at your house last week. I can’t find it anywhere and Mick swears he didn’t steal it.”

Again, the doctor shoots you a look, one more annoyed this time. “Ma’am, we really need to--.”

“Nikki, I’m literally in the hospital about to give birth. Can the shirt wait?”

There’s a sharp breath on the other end after a long pause. Aside from your baby’s father, Nikki was the first person who had known about your pregnancy. You’d grown up together, and even visited Nikki and his band a few times while they were busy touring the world and playing music for anyone that’d listen.  “Right now?”

You nod. “Right now.”

He hesitates before asking the question he already knows the answer to. “Is he there?”

“No, Nikki. My water broke earlier and I called him to ask if he could bring me to the hospital. He hung up and I called a cab. Unfortunately, your shirt isn’t my main priority right now,” You laugh in good nature. Part of you is hurt, though. How could anyone neglect their responsibilities as a parent? How could anyone, any man, deny their child?

Neither one of you signed up for this life. The baby’s father had made it his priority to remind you that your child was merely an accident, and therefore he owed no responsibility for a child he never wanted.

Nikki had been more than a friend throughout your pregnancy. Caring for others was in his nature, apparently, but when it came to you, it felt different. He took care of you in ways he didn’t need to. Helping you bathe. Picking up food to ease your cravings. Holding you as you cried in his arms. He had always gone above and beyond for you even when he didn’t need to.

“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” There’s commotion on the other end of the line, most likely Nikki panicking to find his shoes and keys. Fifteen minutes isn’t ideal, and your doctor is certainly in a mood now as he stares at you with a blank expression, eyebrows pulled together. Another contraction hits and you grip the sides of your thighs tightly. “Y/N, I’m on my way. Don’t have that baby without me.”

~~~

Nikki is by your side shortly after your first push. Seeing him wide eyed and a bit frazzled eases your pain, and you’re glad he’s there now. You didn’t realize how much you needed his support.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He kisses your forehead quickly, reaching one arm around the pillow to cradle your head, other hand clasped tightly in yours. “Let’s have a baby, okay?”

You nod and focus on the doctor as he commands you to push. Unfortunately for the epidural wearing off, you feel every shred of pain. Sucking in a breath you push again and again, sweat beading your body as every ounce of energy is slowly being drained from your body.

“Baby’s crowning.”

Nikki gazes back at you, his look one of pure adoration. “You’re doing so good. Only a few more pushes okay? You can do this.”

His words make it feel possible. Your lips are dry so you lick them once before adjusting your grip on Nikki’s hand. “I can do this.”

“Ready, Y/N? And one...two...three…”

An ear splitting cry erupts throughout the room, and the weight is lifted off your shoulders as your squirming baby boy is placed on your chest. The blood and gunk on his tiny body isn’t even worth cringing over as you hold him against you. Tears course down your cheeks and drip off your chin, but Nikki is there beside you wiping them away, all the while completely mesmerized by your strength.

As much as you don’t want to let him go, you hand off your son to the nurses for a quick bath. Head against the pillow, your body is overcome with extreme fatigue. A hand comes up to your forehead, pushing the hair off your sweaty skin.

“I did it,” Pride swells in your chest. The morning sickness, the constant cravings, the heartburn, the back pain, everything was worth it. “I did it.”

And even pride swirls in Nikki’s heart. The road to your son’s birth hadn’t been smooth sailing. There were many bumps in the road, and Nikki knew more than anyone how much you had doubted yourself, your abilities to raise a child alone. But if anyone could overcome the adversity life threw at them, it was you. And you’d do it with passion and grace. “I’m so proud of you.”

~~~

Wrapped tightly in a white blanket, your baby boy is fast asleep against your chest. Your jealousy thickens as you observe his sweet little face sleeping so peacefully against your chest.

Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, Nikki pipes up from the chair by the window. “Are you tired? Do you want me to hold him?”

You’d have forever to hold your little boy, so you gingerly hand him over to an excited Nikki. After helping him reposition his arms to support the baby boy’s head, your own head sinks into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.

“Hi, Y/B/N. It’s me, Uncle Nikki. I’ve been friends with your mother for a while now, and I want you to know that you have the best mommy in the world.” Your eyes fly open as quick as they had closed, and the sight in front of you warms your heart. Pressing a delicate kiss to your son’s head, Nikki holds him close. “Somedays, she’s going to struggle though. And when she does, I want you to know that I’m always going to look after her. She can do this alone,” Emotion clouds Nikki’s voice. “But I want her to know she doesn't have to.”

Something in the atmosphere changes. The man in front of you cradling your son as if he were his own had transformed before your eyes. Your heart had always held a soft spot for Nikki, and growing up it wasn’t uncommon for adults to assume you were romantically involved. You’d always denied a relationship between you and Nikki, but as you stare at him softly singing a lullaby to your son, the possibility of you and Nikki entertaining something more than friendship rose to the surface.

“And there’s something I never want you to forget, little one,” Nikki speaks to your son, but his eyes, so full of something that can’t be described as anything other than longing, are zeroed in on your face. “Your mother, even with all her flaws, her quirks, and her insecurities, she’s as close to perfect as one can get. And to be loved by her is something out of a dream.”

[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing IV

A/N: To all the soft hearted crybabies requesting it: here’s part 4 to dry your tears from part 3. Thanks for all the interaction with this series, you guys are the best! <3<3<3<3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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I take my coffee to the little patio in the backyard of my childhood home, breathing deeply. It was a couple weeks since the traumatic incident at the bank, the one where I nearly died and found a way to live again. The higher ups practically begged me to take paid leave, I had a feeling they just didn’t want me to take anything to court. I’d told them I would take the month, and knew I would hand in my resignation thereafter. I enjoyed my job as much as the next person but it was too much for me. It felt like closing a door on a chapter of my life that I wanted to move on from.

And now, I could truly relax, I wasn’t running away from anything for the first time in my life. After everything that happened in that small restroom at the back of the bank, Harry and I came to a peace. And I’d only moved on from there.

“You’re up early,” my dad comes into view, a cup of tea in hand. “Your flight doesn’t leave until tonight right?”

“Yeah, just thought I would appreciate the views before I go back to a city,” I move my feet off the chair so he could sit.

“You can come here anytime.”

“I know,” I wrap my hands around my mug. “Coming here it just...reminds me of mum. And it’s hard...”

“This is how I stay connected to her,” he pats the table between us. “She loved this place, her garden and those darn birds she fed all the time.”

“You feed them now,” I look to the birdfeeder filled lovingly to the brim with seeds.

“I do it because...” he says quietly. “It’s what she would want.”

I think about my mum, what she would want. It hurt when I thought about how she left me, married and happy in love. And then how much hurt I went through, always wishing she was there. In some way I know she knew--wherever she was. But I wish I could hear her, I wish I could have a love like she had.

“So, when do I get to meet this new boy of yours?” My dad asks.

“Dad, you know his name’s Alec.”

“I would if I met him, put a face to the name.”

I roll my eyes, my dad was a bit overprotective after everything that’s happened in my life. I think he felt guilty in a small way, him and Harry always got on--we teased them about their bromance. He was just as blindsided as me. But I’d told my dad everything that happened the first night I came over. He hadn’t judged, just listened, hugged me tightly, and left to make me a cup of tea. That was the most expressive my dad got.

After Alec took me back from from the hospital, I asked him to stay. And he had stayed since, making it official from casual to dating. It was scary but life was too short to hold back I had learned. I had to hold onto a good thing when I had one.

As for Harry, he hadn’t called me since that day he visited me. I’d left him a couple texts--when I was discharged home, and again to ask him how he was doing a week later. He’d sent a thumbs up and that was it. I thought we were okay, but he blew me off even when I tried to call him. It hurt a little, but I’d been so busy packing and getting on, that I let him be for now. I would wait until after visiting my sister to find out where his head was at.

H’s POV

It’s been nearly a month since I walked out of Y/N’s hospital room, and we’d just about tied all the lose ends from the case. The only thing about it all that lingered on my mind was Y/N. I missed her more than I had all these years apart, but I sat in the ache of wanting. It was time I catch up to the consequences of my past actions. I turned to writing, starting again after years of thinking I no longer had a passion for it. It felt freeing.

She’d texted me, called me too. I tried not to respond even though everything in me wanted to pick up the phone and ask her out to dinner, invite her over for a movie, ask her if she wanted to take my car and drive out somewhere like we used to after exams in uni. But I let her be, imagining that she was happy somewhere. With Alec, or whoever she wanted to be with.

The last thing I expect, is for her to be standing outside my station late Thursday night.

“Y/N?” I almost don’t recognise her. Gone was her stern bun and smart suit. Strands of her hair frame her face, like a piece of art on display. She has on a loose jumper and tights, a bum bag strapped across her chest that she roots through for something.

“Harry!” she drops her hands. “I’ve only been waiting here for...20 minutes, when your receptionist said your shift ended?”

“I had to finish up some paperwork. Why didn’t you call me?.”

“It’s not like you would’ve answered.” her hands on her hips, attitude dripping from every inch of her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You look different,” I dodge the topic.

“I know,” she zips up her bag. “I had the month off, officially resigned today. I have absolutely nowhere to be. So I’m looking the part.”

“It looks good,” I say truthfully. She looked relaxed, like the Y/N I used to know. “You quit your job?”

“I had enough of that bank,” she shrugs. “I went to see my dad for a bit, and visited my sister. She’s doing well.”

“Ah,” I was glad she’d taken a break. She was glowing. “Seriously Y/N, you look really good.”

“You,” she points her finger at me. “Are not allowed to say things like that after ghosting me. I thought we...came to an understanding. You left me again.”

I open my mouth to say something, but her words hit me. She was right, I’d left her again. Fuck.

“Yeah,” she crosses her arms when I go speechless. “You admitted to your mistakes, apologized, and then left me. How do you think that’s made me feel?”

“I thought it was best if I left you alone,” I walk out of the way from the entrance and she follows me to my car, parked in the lot. “I just wanted to give you space--a chance at being happy.”

She scoffs, leaning against the driver’s side door. “Thought it was best for who, Harry? Who are you to define my happiness? It would’ve been nice just to hear you were doing okay!”

“I’m sorry!” I stumble for another excuse but I come up with none. “The truth is, seeing you with Alec that day I...it was hard for me. I couldn’t be around you like that.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I...” I look at her, looking at me expectantly. She was a woman with an agenda, she had come here looking for answers and wasn’t going to leave until I gave them to her. “I want you to be happy, all that shite. You can’t do that with me around. And it’s hard for me seeing you with someone else...I can’t stand to be in your life like that. Where I’m just...your ex.”

“So you’re saying, it took me nearly dying for you to realize?” Her eyebrow quirks up.

“In a way,” I huff. “It just, took me being around you to remember what I left, when we ended things. It also made me realize the mess I left behind-”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself,” she calls me out like nobody else could. It makes me laugh nervously and she takes it the wrong way. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! I’ve felt sorry enough for the both of us for years. And maybe Y/N from a month ago would’ve wanted you to suffer a little bit, but not anymore. This last month...I’ve just felt so free and happy Harry. I get what you mean now, I get it. And I’m alright.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you Y/N.”

“Yeah, I mean I get it, but you did go about it in the worst possible way-”

“I know.”

“I’m not done,” she pushes my shoulder. “Anyway, just because you did some shitty stuff, you don’t deserve to suffer okay? Move on. Onward. Not backwards.”

I’m taken aback again when she pushes herself off my car and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I slowly envelop her into me, savoring the feel of holding her even if it’s just for a moment.

“You deserve happiness,” she says in my ear. “If that means ghosting me, I won’t fight it. You just...have to let me know.”

“That’s not called ghosting,” I say as she separates herself from me. I want to pull her back but I stuff my hands in my pockets.

“Potato potato,” she waves her hand. “I should go. Just...take care of yourself Harry.”

Y POV (1 year later):

“That’s wonderful news,” I smile at my client who gathers their materials back into their portfolio. “I’ll have my assistant forward the contract over tonight. I look forward to working with your team.”

I shake hands and watch them leave the room before collapsing into my chair. I knew starting your own business was hard, but this last year was a bumpy road. I’d started my own consultation business, and only had two clients. This was my first big-deal contract I’d signed; I was promised two whole years with this team!

I reach for my phone to tell Alec, but I remember we weren’t talking. Well, I wasn’t speaking to him--he’d told me last night before my big meeting that he’d been offered a promotion at work. But the catch was it was in the Edinburgh offices “which works out perfectly for us! Your sister lives there, we can visit them often...what do you think?”

I’d been so angry then. Firstly, he’d sprung the news on me the night before a big day, and second he’d already made the decision for us. I was so angry I’d just gone quiet, and told him I had a big meeting the next morning.

My fingers itch though, to tell someone. My fingers hover over Harry’s name.

Every since I confronted him last year at work, he disappeared again but not completely. He texted me a few times, once on my birthday, another during a heat wave in the city asking me if I wanted to grab drinks. I wasn’t available and he hadn’t really texted me since. I knew he was a phone call away, and he knew the same of me. Yet neither of us ever picked up the phone to call each other. I wasn’t sure why, but we were still giving each other space.

Well fuck it, I think. I call him and he picks up on the fourth ring.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Uh no--hold up, wait. Not you...Sorry Y/N give me a second.”

I bite my lip, he could be at work, I should’ve texted him.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone is different now, softer and the background noises quiet to almost nothing. “Sorry it was so loud in there, we’re celebrating a birthday--Serena, the receptionist you remember?”

“Oh yeah,” I have a vague picture of her in my head. “Don’t let me keep you from the festivities-”

“Why did you call? S’no big deal, I’m not a big cake person anyway.”

“Ooh, cake? Eat a slice for me, I don’t get enough sweets living with a health nut...” I trail off realizing who I was talking to.

“I’ll save you one if you swing by?” Harry suggests after a beat of awkward silence. Another second passes as I consider what he’s asking: he wanted to see me.

“Uh, okay! You don’t have to ask me twice,” I grin, a strange bubble of excitement making it’s way through me. “My office is actually not too far from your station. I’ll walk it.”

“Your office? Where are you these days?” Harry asks as I slip my bag over my body and head out the door. I was exactly an 8 minute walk from his station--I’d mapped it when I found the place cheap online.

“I’m renting a whole office! It’s all very professional--I mean it’s like, one and a half rooms..oh and I have to share the toilets with the whole floor-”

“That’s good, so there’s no way you’ll be caught dead in there if you’re sharing it with the floor,” I hear the laugh in his voice.

“That’s a very insensitive thing to say,” I scold him.

“It’s been a year, c’mon Y/N.”

“We almost died!”

“We weren’t going to die. You’re alive right now!”

“Thanks to a really bad detective and a toilet seat,” I say and relish at the sound of Harry’s laugh on the other end of the line.

“That’s not how you thank someone who saved your life,” Harry finally says when he’s done laughing.

“You didn’t save my life, I was never going to die in the first place remember?”

“Touche,” he laughs. “Get over here faster, I want to see your face.”

“I’m trying!” I speed up. The background noise grows louder on his side again and he apologises. “S’alright. Anyway I just called cuz I had good news and nobody to share it with immediately.”

“Tell me.”

“Long story short, I started my own consulting firm! Finance advice--stuff like that, and I signed my first long-term contract! With an actual client not just for like, a project! I’m-” I squeal, I couldn’t help it. “It’s such a big deal for me I’ve been struggling just breaking ever since I started up.”

“Y/N I’m getting you the whole bloody cake for that,” Harry says. I finally turn the corner to his station, nearly jogging at this point.

“Only if Serena doesn’t mind.” I joke.

“In that dress, who would mind,” he says. I pause on the street, he could see me. I squint but he’s nowhere in sight. And then there, he steps out from the steps and waves. I don’t bother taming the smile on my face and neither does he.

“I see you Detective,” I shout.

“I saw you first!” He shouts.

In an instant we’re rushing towards each other, bodies crashing as I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze hard. It felt like a reunion.

“How did we go this long without seeing each other,” I say when we pull apart. “I’ve actually missed you.” With the closure between us and no baggage weighing our memories down, I’d actually begun to feel nostalgic about Harry every time I thought about us--usually the friendship, not quite the marriage.

“I don’t know,” Harry pulls me close to him again. “I think we gave each other too much space this time around. We’ve got to find a better middleground.”

“I think we’re standing on it.” I joke.

“Hey, Styles!” A voice calls from the entrance. “Stop snogging your girl and come back in here. Serena’s wondering why you’re running away from her big day.”

“I’m not snogging anybody,” Harry calls back. “And I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Bring her with ya, we’ve got plenty of cake!”

Harry looks down at me and I raise an eyebrow. “You think they’ll let me have more than a slice?”

“I’m their commanding officer, I can tell them to let you have as many as you want.”

“Lead the way,” I grin, half excited to see Harry and half excited for the baked goods. Harry grabs my hand and leads me in. Unfortunately, enough people recognize me from the bank heist that Harry has to explain we’ve known each other for a while. Fortunately, enough people remember me to ply me with sweets to make up for Harry screwing up my case. I have zero complaints and celebrate the day with free cake.

H’s POV

My phone vibrates with Y/N’s text, she was here for lunch. Ever since she called me a couple weeks ago and we decided we couldn’t live without staying in contact, we tried to pop over for lunch whenever we could. It felt like old times. Being Y/N’s friend again was what I was missing out on. I was finally living the version of my life that felt right. I had a bounce in my step, I felt happy when I woke up. Even my officers teased me, trying to allude that I was getting some until I threatened them with paperwork. But I was brighter at work too.

I text Y/N that I would be a few minutes more, and when I finally go into the lobby to meet her she’s having a conversation with Serena.

“Man of the hour,” Serena says as I walk up. “Your girl’s here.”

“I can see that, thank you.” Serena insisted on calling Y/N that despite telling her multiple times we weren’t together.

“Serena was just telling me all the wild things she got up to for her sixty-fifth,” Y/N winks at Serena. I didn’t want to be part of that conversation so I drag her by the arm out of the station.

We walk in silence towards a small sandwich shop around the corner from us. I grab her swinging hand to catch her attention, and she gives me a small smile before turning away. But she keeps her hand in mine.

She’s unusually quiet, and I wait until after we’ve ordered to broach the subject. Before I could, she blurts out: “Alec's got to give his final answer today.” I nearly choke on my sandwich. She’s told me her predicament last week when I noticed she looked upset and wouldn’t let her be until she told me. I was gutted, but it didn’t seem like she wanted to go.

“I...that means, hm.” I gather my thoughts--and all my emotions too. “Have you decided if you’re...moving with him?”

“I dunno, this is an amazing job offer. I could be closer to my sister too but...I just don’t know. My life’s in London, my new practice too. How can I leave it all?”

“That’s tricky,” I say even though deep inside I was relieved it sounded like she wasn’t going. “Couldn’t you just move your practice there? Travel to London when you had meetings? You could always stay with me if you needed.”

She huffs, there was more she wanted to say but she keeps it in. I push her to open up. “It’s just, he sprang this on me a couple weeks ago and he just expected me to follow him. I love him, I do. But that’s asking a lot! It’s only been a year or so, and it’s nice to know he’s serious enough about me to want me to go with him. I just...”

“And we only just reconnected again,” I try to sound lighthearted but when she looks at me I can tell she knows I feel more than I’m letting on.

“Can you imagine?” She raises her eyebrow. “If I told him I’m staying because I just reconnected again with my ex...”

“Ex-husband makes us sound older than we are.”

“We are old,” she puts her sandwich down and sighs. “You wear orthopedic shoes Harry.”

“I won’t take offense to that,” I look down at my shoes. They were comfortable on the job. “So...I’m not factored into your decision at all? Whether you want to stay or not?”

I see the emotion in her eyes; she was conflicted. “I dunno,” she finally says.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” I say even though I wanted to beg her to stay. “You love him right? Maybe you should...”

She stares ahead, her face falling. I knew Y/N’s face before a cry, so I reach my hand out and clasp hers over the table. She squeezes my hand once before removing it, I felt like I did something wrong.

“Anyway,” her face brightens up again, though the look in her eyes stays. “I watched that new movie you recommended and it was awful...”

She changes the subject swiftly, and I don’t object. I didn’t know how to tell her to stay without being selfish, and I didn’t know how to tell her it was okay to go and act like I was telling her the truth.

But near the end of my shift, the evening receptionist buzzes me she was letting my girlfriend through. I don’t bother correcting her.

“Hey Y/N!” one of my officers calls out to her when she walks into the floor. “We’re all planning on throwing you a party.”

“For what?” She stops by his desk. I notice Detective Cole eyeing her, before joining in.

“He actually has a life now, he’s usually a lot more bossy with us.”

Y/N turns to me, eyebrow raised. “I’m afraid the party’s a little premature. But I’d never say no to cake.”

My heart sinks, she was going. I watch her walk towards me and she notices my expression, the smile is gone from her face by the time she reaches me.

“I told Alec I would try it out, 6 months. See how it goes...I can see my sister more often, help her out with my niece...” It sounds like she’s coming up with excuses to justify herself to me.

“That’s...” my words get stuck in my throat, the lie was too big to get out. “Your sister will love that.” I settle with. I take her hand and walk her out to a more private hallway. “When do you leave.”

“Two weeks,” she bites her lip. “I-I’m gonna miss you Harry. We just got into a flow and-”

“We’ll still talk.” I pull her in, I couldn’t bear to watch her face fall apart in front of me. And I didn’t want her to see my own face crumbling. I tuck her under my chin, “We’ve got phones, and you’ll be in London sometimes for work right? We won’t be like before, we’ll still talk.”

I know she can feel my heart racing, and I want her to know what she was doing to me because my mouth can’t seem to tell her. I hold her for a little longer, and when she goes, I know my unit won’t be throwing any parties for her in a while.

Three Months Later:

I’m in bum mode by 8pm that Friday. I’d had a long week, a tough case with no breaks and finally had an evening off so I changed into sweats the second I got home, taken a hot shower and washed the week off.

The knock on the door surprises me. The peephole doesn’t distinguish who’s outside, a hood covering their face. I decide to open the door, to find a teary Y/N hundreds of miles from home.

“Y/N-”

“I wanted you to tell me to stay.” she says to me immediately. Her tears continue dripping onto her cheeks. I stare in confusion, wondering for a moment if my lack of sleep had caused me to hallucinate her.

“Wha-”

“When I told you about the move...you told me I should go. I wanted you to tell me to stay Harry! I thought you would’ve told me to stay.”

I move aside silently, so we weren’t having a conversation where my neighbours could hear.

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I don’t know!” she throws her bag, coat, and phone down on the floor in a heap. “You just were! I thought when I told you, you would say-”

“I didn’t want to tell you what to do with your life based on what I wanted! I thought I already established that!” Suddenly we’re arguing.

“You never had an issue before!”

“Well look where it lead us,” I move away from the door and back to where I was previously relaxing on the couch.

“A country apart!” She’s hot on my heels. “Didn’t you want me to stay?”

Some part of me is still completely confused what was going on, but Y/N’s fiery frustration overflows into my cup and an invisible force pours it down my throat.

“Yes. Yeah! Of course I wanted you to stay!”

“So why didn’t you say that?” She cries.

“I was trying not to be selfish!”

“Well you just pick the worst times to be selfish!”

“I never said I was good with my timing.” I mumble.

“Don’t treat me like-like some fragile porcelain Harry!” Y/N gets right into my face. “I’m not! I’m different, I’ve grown from that fragile place. I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me, I just want you to be honest!”

“When am I not honest?” I shout back.

“You haven’t been honest with me for months! Just say what you feel Harry, stop bloody holding back all the time! I just want the real you!”

“Fine!” I explode. “I love you Y/N! I love you so much it physically hurts me to be near you and not be able to hold you. I want to be able to kiss you like I used to, I want to go back in time and warn myself to get it right! I want to tell you how amazing you are and how sorry I am every day. I can’t! We’ve both got our own lives! I’m not being dishonest I just don’t want to fuck with your life again! I’ve accepted that I’m nothing more than an ex and your best friend!”

That stops her in her tracks. Her chest heaves as she swipes at her cheeks, and then she pushes her hands into my chest. I stumble but catch myself. She pushes me again, big tears rolling down her cheeks, and I stumble onto the couch. She turns and paces to the door and back.

“What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Edinburgh?” I finally ask the question I should’ve asked the second I saw her.

“Sure,” she throws herself onto the seat next to me and buries her face in her hands. “I...I didn’t want to be there. I just had to leave, and I couldn’t stand my sister going on about what a catch Alec was. How I should feel lucky. I had to get away. I never should’ve left London...I just thought maybe Alec was my chance at a fresh happy future, and you told me to go so I thought you didn’t want me to stay. But I fucked up there too, and I just had to go. And I came here with nowhere else--I can’t even live in my own home for three more months...”

She trails off. It was a lot of information to process. I don’t know how long we stay on the couch like that, a foot apart in silence.

“Everyone I know will probably think I’m just an idiot for coming here of all places, but this was the only place that made sense because I--Harry I think I...” She glances at me. “I...”

“I know,” I say after she struggles to say what she wanted to say. But I knew.

“But I feel so guilty, I’m doing to him what you did to me...it’s not fair.”

I didn’t think about it like that, I realise. But this situation was more complicated than that, I tell her. We had history, she’d moved to a whole new country for him, he must know somewhere Y/N didn’t actually want to move. But the parallels between her situation and ours are clear as day. I don’t know what to say.

“Stay the night,” I put a hand on her thigh. She doesn’t move it off. “Get some sleep, when you wake up tomorrow, make your decision. You know how I feel...and you know how you feel.”

“You’re right,” she lays her hand on top of mine. I thread my fingers through hers and hold on. Her puppy eyes tear me apart, I want to gather her in my arms and kiss her misery away. But I don’t want to add to her guilt.

“Let me get you something to eat, you’re probably hungry.” holding her hand was getting painful. I leave her alone in the living room, so she could collect herself. If someone told Harry three years ago this was where I would end up, he would’ve laughed in their face.

Y POV:

I couldn’t believe I did that, I think as I sit on the 5 hour ride back to Edinburgh. I felt untethered yesterday, after arguing with Alec all week because I was just miserable when I wasn’t in London. My sister’s pressure to be happy with what I had, I felt like I had no one to turn to who would understand me. And that had driven me into Harry’s arms, the train ride there fueling my frustration and anger. It had accidentally exploded in Harry’s direction when I got to his place but I was glad for it. He’d told me how he felt. And it was complicated as hell for me but somewhere deep inside, I knew where this was leading.

When I get back home to a worried Alec, we sit down and have a hard conversation. It breaks my heart leaving him, but after one last night together I pack most of my things and head to my sisters. The irony isn’t lost of me, hers was exactly where I went to when Harry and I split.

My sister tries to be supportive but I by the time the three months are over, I feel suffocated with her overprotective nature, and the full house she lived in.

“You’re just going to do what you want to do aren’t you?” She asks the day she drops me back off to the station. I’d spent the rest of the three months at hers--I couldn’t go back home to my house anyway and something about going back to London for another man felt wrong. I’d seen Alec a few times in those months. The last time was last night, we’d shared a few drinks and maybe some kisses. But it was a final goodbye last night, heavy but final.

“I don’t want to be a bad person,” I say. “I just don’t want to feel stuck somewhere because I feel bad.”

“You’re not a bad person,” my sister brushes my hair behind my shoulder as she hugs me tight. “I love you. Mum would be so proud of you for following your heart, you always did play it too safe.”

“I guess my rebellious phase just came a little late.”

“Ever since you met that Harry guy, you quit your stable job and haven’t been the same since,” she wags her finger at me like a stern maternal figure. She breaks character when she laughs and hugs me again. “M’gonna miss having you here. The kids loved having their aunt around.”

“I’m sure they’re happier having their play room back.” I joke to cover up how sad I felt leaving them too. Even though most days felt like we were walking all over each other, it felt like growing up in our small childhood home again; a nice reset before I headed back to London.

The train ride goes by quickly, and I settle back into my home over the weekend, getting my furniture out of storage and cleaning up after the last tenants. I’d been gone only 6 months but the second I walked through the door, I knew I was home again.

Letting Harry know I was back makes me nervous so I put it off for the week. I show up at his flat the following Saturday, wringing my hands as I wait for him to answer. I didn’t even know if he was home.

“Y/N,” a shocked voice says as I turn to walk away. Harry studies me as I stand awkwardly in his hall. “You’re back.”

I hear what he doesn’t say: you never called me after you showed up three months ago. and what happened to you?

“Hey,” I brush past him into his flat, fiddling with my jacket as he locks the door. “I’m back in London.”

“I can see that.” He eyes me. “Alone?” He asks, and again I hear the words he doesn’t say.

“Alone,” I smile. “I just needed...time to figure things out. I’ve been staying with my sister.”

“Full house?” He says, knowing it before I had to say it.

“So full,” I laugh, and just like that everything is okay. He takes my jacket from me and hangs it in his closet, like he knew I was going to stay a while. “There were too many mornings when I woke up to my niece just staring at me, waiting for me to wake.”

“Aw, they must miss you now.”

“Yeah,” I follow him through to his living room. I remember the last time I was here, sort of embarrassing looking back. “I was missing London though. And...you.”

He looks up. “Are you-”

“Harry,” I swallow what I need to say. His gaze is laser-sharp and it’s slightly intimidating to admit something like this. I’d given my heart to him before, and here I was giving it again after I’d spent years healing from what he did to it. It felt right, but also foolish. I guess love would always feel a little foolish.

“Y/N,” he says after I don’t say anything.

“So,” I walk up to where he stands near the window, the afternoon sun illuminates his handsome face. I reach up to touch it, no longer able to keep my hands to myself when he was so close. My breath catches as he closes his eyes against my palm, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

“Y/N,” he keeps his eyes closed, like I would disappear if he opened them.

“I’m finally home,” I tell him, feeling the familiar lump in my throat as my eyes tear up. He opens his eyes then, they’re also pooling with unshed tears. It makes me laugh; he arches a brow. “We’re both here, in each other’s arms finally and...we’re crying.”

“We’re not a very typical pair, are we?”

“Nothing typical about us.” I say and he chuckles, kissing my wrist. My heart stutters in my chest.

“You’re either crazy or just incredibly forgiving, giving me a second chance at this.” Harry says outright.

“It’s us I’m giving a second chance to,” I slide my hands up, locking them around his neck.

“D’you think we’ll get the timing right this time?” He whispers as he lowers his face.

“We better,” I keep my eyes on his mouth, the one I’ve thought about kissing for the last three months. And then, finally, his lips are on mine and I nearly cry out of relief having him in my arms. Harry, being my Harry again.

His hands clench the fabric around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, his lips leave mine and he kisses my cheek, my jaw, my temple, before he crushes me to him.

“Harry I-” I couldn’t breathe, but my strained voice gives that away and he lets me go. I’m surprised to see the tears now trailing down his face. “You’re crying,” I swipe at the fallen tears.

“I’m just so happy,” he takes my hands off his cheeks and clasps them against his chest. “Y/N I’ve only dreamed of this, I didn’t think the universe cared enough about me to let me have this reality.”

“You and your poetry,” I smile.

“I guess you’re my muse,” He pulls me back to him, this time in a sweeter kiss that lingers. Tears pool in my own eyes as my heart tries to process the enormity of emotions I was feeling. “C’mere, I just want to hold you.”

He leads me to the couch and I lay down next to him. We take in each other, face to face, the grins reflected on both of us is impossible to wipe off.

“I love you Y/N, to the sun and back.”

“Isn’t it the moon and back?” I ask.

“Sun’s further out,” he smiles like he was expecting the question. I laugh, he kisses the tip of my nose and pulls my leg over his, his arm snaking around my waist so I’m snug against him.

“What am I gonna do with you Styles,” I brush one of his curls back.

“You’ve got forever to figure that out,” he says simply. My heart races at the thought. We’d bungled the first round we spent together, but after all these years apart I had a feeling that we really would have forever this time around.

With all the emotions fluttering inside of me, all the baggage unpacked and out of sight, and Harry’s loving expression looking back at me; I believed in us.

1.5 Years Later (H’s POV):

The house is quiet when I get in--it was half past 11 and I knew Y/N was probably asleep. I texted her a couple hours ago I would be home soon but time had slipped away as I worked. I hoped she wasn’t upset.

I move stealthily through the hall, eventually making my way to our bedroom where she lays sleeping. She’d left the lamp on beside her, and I move around to her side so I can close it. I notice the open book beside her--she fell asleep while reading it again. I set it down on the drawers and tuck her hand into the covers, the subtle diamonds on her finger glows yellow under the soft lamp light. Just looking at the engagement ring sparks a rush of love for the woman before me.

Y/N had surprised me a couple months ago when she proposed to me. We’d were dating again for almost a year and a half--this time it really felt like we’d gotten the timing right on our relationship. We were happier and more in love than we’d ever been. During a candlelit dinner one night, she had pulled a chair up beside me and presented me with the ring and an ultimatum.

Apparently she’d noticed that I was always on edge--like I was waiting for her to realize that she didn’t actually forgive me for all the awful things I put her through. And she was right, but it wasn’t until she said it out loud that I realized it was an anxiety I had. I was waiting for her to realize she could do better than me--leave me the way I left her. But she proposed to show me she wasn’t going anywhere, and she showed me her own ring her father gave her--her mum’s ring. 

I was blown away by her observant love, again, how she knew me better than I knew myself. I reassured her I wasn’t going anywhere either, not now or ever. And we decided we didn’t want to set any dates, we were taking it slow. Being engaged was a promise and that was all for now. I wanted to live up to Y/N’s standard, give her and her family a reason to trust me again--not only would they kill me if I ever did anything to her, but I’m pretty sure my own family would kill me too. They were over the moon when they found out we were giving it another go.

“Harry?” Y/N mumbles as I slip under the covers a little while later.

“Sorry for coming home so late,” I whisper. “I got a bit carried away with the case.”

“What’s new,” she shifts to face me, the moonlight from the windows barely illuminating her face. “M’just glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” I pull her towards me. Home, it was this house we’d moved into last year. But mostly, it was this beautiful woman in my arms who opened her heart to me despite everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I tell her that.

“S’not luck,” she mumbles. “The universe--our stars are finally aligned.”

“My star was pretty dim, I’m surprised yours found it.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her temple. “You found it by luck.”

“No. Your star’s always burned the brightest in my universe,” she tucks her face into my neck. “Even when I didn’t want it to be, it was still noticeable.”

“You outshine me in every way in mine,” I lean away so I can hold her face close, resting my forehead on hers. “I love you so much.”

She smiles in the dark, and leaves a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I love you, and I’d love you more if you came home on time.”

I chuckle, “I’ll try. Tomorrow.”

“Mhm,” she says sleepily. I’d let her sleep, I think as I pull her leg over mine and hold her against my chest. Even though I hated coming home by the time she was asleep, finding her in our little safe space, and being able to hold her close as we fell asleep was my favourite part of the day.

***

The day is nearly over but the paperwork on my desk says otherwise. I sigh and slump in my chair, this was the worst part of my job.

I begin filling it out, and I’m not even halfway through when the phone rings. Serena’s on the other line, “Styles, your patient fiancee is here for you. I don’t think she’s staying patient for long though.”

I tell her I’d be out, smiling as I put down the phone. Y/N was making sure I kept my word from last night, and I would. For her, I would get in extra early tomorrow just to be sure I had the evening with her tonight.

“So when do I get the invitation to the wedding?” I hear Serena say as I walk out to the lobby. She’s putting on her coat to leave and Y/N’s bundled up herself. “And then when do I get to see the mini Styles’? I better be around to see them!”

Not many would, but I notice the slight tension in Y/N’s shoulders at the sensitive topic. I step in.

“You’re worse than my mum,” I tell her. “And she’s actually going to be the grandmother.”

“We just want to see our babies’ babies before we bite the bullet!” Serena shrugs, walking out from behind the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow Harry, Y/N it was lovely seeing you as always.”

We wave her off, and then I wrap my arm around Y/N and we walk out to my car.

“That’s the first question everyone continues to ask me,” Y/N says as we walk. “When the date is.”

“Does that bother you?” I check in.

“A little, but only because it leads to even more questions when I say we haven’t set a date.”

We get into the car, and I ask her the other question I wanted to know: “And the baby thing? Does that...bother you?”

She turns her body to look at me, tilting her head as she tries to read me. “It doesn’t...does it bother you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I’m happy where we are. All that stuff can...come after. I’m just-I’m happy with you.”

“Good talk then,” she grins. I can’t help but lean over for a kiss then.

“Well I don’t mind the baby making part,” I tell her. “But I think the actual babies can wait.”

She pushes me away as her cheeks flush like we hadn’t been dating and married and dating again for over ten years. “Sometimes I think you’ve just got one thing on your mind.”

“Yeah,” I say as I start the car. “That’s you.”

“Is that what distracted you so bad when you were working on my case? Because you were totally distracted and we almost died-”

“We were never going to die!” I say over her--this was a common topic of conversation between us.

“I was going to bleed out and die!” She tries to speak over me.

“Oh now you were going to bleed out? You were never dying!” I shout even louder. And we keep going for most of the way home until Y/N catches sight of a dog at a crosswalk and begins to coo at it through the window.

“Maybe we should get a dog,” she starts on another of our reoccurring topics. I sigh, ready to launch into why we should wait. And that’s how the rest of the ride home goes. Not that I minded, I could discuss the same topics with her over and over for eternity.

“You’re just threatened by a dog,” Y/N continues as we park and head up to our front door. “Because then my love would be split between both of you.”

“Yeah sure, that’s it.” I roll my eyes at her silly reasoning. But I still grab her hand in mine and kiss it as we walk in. My stomach flutters when she gazes at me as the door closes behind her.

“I’m going to wear you down soon,” she says as she takes my coat from me. I take them both out of her hands and leave them in a heap on the staircase, kissing her so she stops talking. She smiles against my lips, knowing that she was wearing me down, and I’d give her anything she asked for. Anything to make her happy. I loved her infinitely.

[peachyteabuck]

slaughterhouse // bucky barnes x reader

summary:   “ Slaughter it in the Lord’s presence at the entrance to the tent of meeting. Take some of the bull’s blood and put it on the horns of the altar with your finger, and pour out the rest of it at the base of the altar. Then take all the fat on the internal organs, the long lobe of the liver, and both kidneys with the fat on them, and burn them on the altar. But burn the bull’s flesh and its hide and its intestines outside the camp. It is a sin offering.” - exodus 29:11-14

or, the real story of how the winter soldier lost his arm

pairing: winter soldier!bucky x reader

words: 2,035

trigger warnings: heavy gore, explicit references to propaganda use, smut, snuff films, sub!bucky, use of restraints and suicidal thoughts, extreme dehumanization, allusions to breeding 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

A woman Soldat had never seen and likely would never see again stood confidently in front of him as she delivered the news. Every member of Hydra (at least, the ones that joined willingly) had the same stance – chest out, shoulders back, face blank. None of them needed emotions because the organization felt for them, so their mouths only twisted themselves into smiles when another pro-America politician ate a bullet.

He listened diligently as he could, watching her with eyes long gone dead. The scientist coat she wore – branded with the Hydra insignia – was freshly laundered, covering most of her shapeless black bodysuit. It was the standard bulletproof one all agents wore, including Soldat.

“If we want to form a successful regime,” she explained, “Propaganda is necessary. Simply relying on the organization itself to crumble is a short-sighted approach. Do you understand?”

Soldat nodded, grumbled something akin to a “yes” as he traced the cracks in the cinderblock wall behind her. He had made them, there was no need to map them out once more, but it gave him something to look at besides the middle-aged scientist in front of him – so he continued.

“And, given you’re the most successful case of bodily rejuvenation with the serum,” she paused for a moment, waiting until Soldat’s eyes met her own. “We need you to step up and help Hydra.”

His brow furrowed. Hadn’t he already done enough? He’d given up his freedom, his life, his will to live…what else would this place possibly take from him!?

The woman shook her head and sighed to herself. “Perhaps I’m not explaining myself correctly…”

The guard, who had been silent enough Soldat had forgotten about him, stepped forward. His finger never left its resting place on his weapon and held it close to him as he spoke. Soldat knew for a fact that the man spoke at least ten languages – but somehow his English remained heavily accented and broken in the typical Eastern European style he’d come to know quite well. “We need common man. Common man watch porn. We make porn. You star in porn. Get it?”

Soldat narrowed and his fingers gripped the steel bedframe he was sitting on. He heard the distinct creak of metal bending as he did so. In his own black bodysuit, he felt his cock hardening at the proposition. It had been, what? Months? Years? Decades? Since he buried himself in a tight, hot cunt. Surely this offer was too good to be true – they wouldn’t just film him fucking some snatch and leave it at that…

But he knew, even if there was some weird catch, he wouldn’t have a say in whether or not he had to abide.

So Soldat – all 200 pounds of him – gives a small shrug. The woman seemed relieved. The guard seemed to not care very much either way.

“Good,” the woman says with bated breath, turning to her colleagues. She addresses them with the same tentative, small voice, as if she’s ashamed of what she’s saying. “Go prep the room, I’ll meet you there once it’s done.”

The rest of them, all except the guard, give her a single nod as she exits, waiting for her footsteps to fall out of earshot before they leave. Soldat and the single man are left alone, then, staring at each other with equally bored expressions.

It’s a while – an hour or so, maybe – when the guard gets a radio transmission, a crackly voice speaking Russian requesting for “the transfer of the Soldat to room 4527BW.” The Soldat has never heard of the room – the letters indicating its location in the west wing of the basement with numbers telling him it’s in the part of the Hydra base even the Soldat hasn’t been to. He’s heard murmurings of it, of words like Americans and genes and perfect human male. He remembers overhearing two younger, female scientists giggling about what he was packing, which didn’t make much sense to him. He never had to pack anything, he wore the same clothes the entire mission and guns were either strapped to him or handed to him by a Hydra operative.

No matter his confusion, the Soldat follows the guards to the room previously mentioned on the radio, obediently laying down on a medical table that was slightly wider than what he was used to. He lays there, silently, as he’s strapped down with the special material Hydra had made specially for him. An IV is attached to his left arm by a nurse he’d never seen before, the fluid flowing into his veins soon making everything below his shoulder feel…heavy, somehow.

The same nurse takes out a pen, moves it close to him, and asks him if he can feel that.

Soldat shakes his head once. Then the nurse disappears, and all the ceiling lights go off except one; one single, bright bulb that illuminates the doorway he had walked through just a few minutes prior.

Someone yells “актион!,” and then someone else walks through the door.

He’d seen you before, Soldat realizes as you step into the low lighting. You were, are, a scientist – the one who checks him out every so often after a particularly hard mission. Each visit was never as bad as he’d come to expect from the others; you and your clipboard and your perfectly sharpened pencil were somehow kinder to him in the minutes it took to jot down any external injuries that the others subjected to the serum could suffer. The healing process was documented thoroughly as well, his bruises and broken bones and stab wounds measured and noted on a chart he assumed you had stacks of copies of in your office. He imagines you pulling one off of the large pile each time you were notified he had returned from his “danger-cations,” as you called them. You always said it with a small smile, one Soldat always attempted to mimic once he had left.

The large men, the even larger guns, the numerous cameras and the noises all the objects quickly turn into background noise as you step closer, clad in a skintight dress that makes Soldat’s mouth go dry.

If this was many, many years ago (how many, exactly, he couldn’t tell) he might’ve delivered some smooth line about wanting to take you out on a date, maybe ask you what a good dame like you was doing in a place like this. Maybe he’d give you a nice half-smile and lean against the wall, do something else smooth and flirty.

It’s been a long time since Soldat was like that, since he had that instinct that made him so good with women. All of that melted away the first time he was thawed, revealing some bare canvas for Hydra to paint whatever it is they wanted him to be over his cold, hard skin.

So now he was laid bare, his legs spread out and his arms tied straight out, kept in place by the mythical metal everyone keeps talking about – the thing that makes that dastardly Captain America’s shield so legendary. You clicked them into place just before he was given the cue to keep quiet, shoving a single thin finger between his wrist and the slowly warming material. For a moment, Soldat did not understand why you were doing it and tensed with the anticipation of what was he thought would be a sedative or worse. None of the millions of scenarios that ran through his head included you looking down at him with wide, attentive eyes and asking if the cuffs were too tight.

Soldat just laughed dryly. “What would you do if they were?”

You didn’t respond, just turned back to ask something from a superior that Soldat didn’t bother listening to.

Somewhere between you walking away (and his eyes flitting down to the short hemline of that black dress) and you returning (and his eyes flitting up to the deep neckline of that black dress), you had discarded the matching lace panties that dropped them onto the center of Soldat’s face.

The fabric is soft, softer than anything Soldat had felt in years. He can smell you, too, the deep, heady scent snapping him back to the reality he had been attempting to distance himself from.

“You like that?” you coo, nails now painted some deep red as they trail across his chest. All Soldat does is gulp, his nonverbal actions met by a slap and you grabbing his jaw and forcing his eyes to meet yours. “Answer me.”

“Yes!” He gasps out, voice thick and broken from lack of use.

“Yes, what?” you scream, your face so close to his he can feel the fake rage that settles over your skin.

It takes all of Soldat’s power not to lean forward and kiss you – using all his willpower to keep his body flat on the table instead of wrapping himself around you. “Yes, Mistress!”

You smile and the Soldat swears he feels proud of himself for the first time he can remember.

“Now stay perfectly still, and only speak when spoken to, and maybe I’ll reward you…” your words feel like silk against the man’s skin, soft against his scars and burns and marred flesh.

He nods and keeps himself static, watching as you hike your dress up just enough to reveal your bare pussy. If the Soldat was given permission he’d moan and tell you it’s the most beautiful cunt he’s ever seen; but he wasn’t, so he just watches you with desperate, wide eyes as you climb onto the table he’s strapped to, and then onto him.

You mount him with a look of disgust painted on your face – a single raised brow and bared teeth making Soldat’s cock jump inside of you.

“It’s always a dirty Russian,” you hiss as you slap him again. “Poking around in places you know you shouldn’t be.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he stutters. “I’m so sorry!”

A smirk paints itself across your face. “You want to impregnant me, don’t you? You want to pump me full of you, want to make me round with your children?”

The Soldat, finally, moans out a “Yes! Mistress, yes!” as you tighten around him, the feeling making his head spin.

“But first,” you reach down while the Soldat’s eyes remain trained on your hands. A large knife – one larger than the one he carries but the same shape – is pulled from the holster on your thigh, previously covered by the fabric of your dress. “We need to get you into proper form.”

Still inside of you, the Soldat is too focused on the feeling of you around him to notice the blood dripping down from the table, or the cuff’s heavy metal latch being undone, or the loud THUD of something hitting the cement ground. He feels none of it – too pumped full of hormones and whatever else Hydra mixed into the clear bang hanging from the pole next to him to care at all about that you were doing. As long as he could feel your velvet walls around his aching cock…you could do anything to him, and he’d thank you profusely.

“You going to cum in me, Russian?” your voice is breathy, satisfied. “You going to fill me up with your dirty Russian cum?”

It doesn’t take much longer before the Soldat comes the hardest he ever has, screaming louder than an airplane at takeoff as his thrusts become harder, deeper before he stills at his very peak.

“Oh, Иисус Христос,” he moans, the arm that’s left moving to cup your face. His thumb moves to swipe at your bottom lip and you leave a kiss there, smiling blissfully. Soldat’s vision darkens just as he finds the energy to smile back.

“I love you,” he whispers, knowing he’s fading fast. It’ll be his last words – and he’s okay with that.

“I love you, too,” you tell him in an equally low voice, the reply music to his ears as the world falls apart around him. It’s the first time he’s felt at peace for years, he quickly realizes. Somehow, it’s not as pathetic as he thinks it should be.

[deepwaterwritingprompts]

ooh ask day! are you working on any of your own writing at the moment? what excites you about it? is your writing similar to your prompts in any way? or do the prompts fulfill something else for you?

mainly im working on getting my first novel published, which you can read about HERE. otherwise, the sequel, an adult fiction project, and an urban fantasy type YA about a town called florida. in florida. Florida, florida.

Florida project, working title BORDERLINE, is the most in line with my general prompt vibe here. a little cosmic horror, bent reality, just generally odd.

I never write stuff based off the prompts, but I DO write prompts based off my own stuff, very occasionally. for me, writing prompts is like scales for a musician. keeps my brain well oiled.

*still taking asks, no requests please*

anyway, ive been working on Florida project a lot lately. have an excerpt:

Backpage:

Lin O’Leary was born and raised in the town of Florida, Florida, tucked away into a corner of the state’s forgotten coast. All the locals know Florida is a strange place, rumored to stand on a borderline, where the veil is thin and mysterious forces wander alongside the human population. The daughter of Irish and Mexican immigrants, Lin knows you can only find trouble if you go looking for it, and like the rest of Florida’s residents, lives comfortably alongside the supernatural. This is before Momoko Kasahara disappears into thin air, frightening the town of Florida into a new, ultra-cautious existence. Five years after Momo’s disappearance, Lin is seventeen, a highschool dropout now working at a convenience store, her once vibrant town still plagued by fear. The days drag by, mundane as they come in Florida, occasionally punctuated by unpleasant visits from Bo Kasahara, brother to Momo and full time asshole. Then, one fateful late shift, Lin sees the missing Kasahara twin standing in the aisles, gone as quickly as she appeared. Meanwhile, a stranger arrives from California, claiming to be a paranormal investigator hellbent on uncovering the mysteries of Florida, and suddenly Lin is faced with a choice. Be smart and keep her head down, or dive headlong into the strange mist that so often covers Florida, to rescue Momo Kasahara, and return her town to the way she remembers it.

1. 100% humidity feels like breathing underwater.

L I N

Florida ate Momoko Kasahara on the most miserable day of the year, and washed her down with a thunderstorm. A lot of other important things happened that day, but Momo’s disappearance overshadowed them all. Momo was the coolest girl in our class. She had shiny black hair that ran down to her waist. She liked to wear a different flavor of lip gloss every day of the week, and could sing in Japanese. I was on my way home from the beach when I saw the police cars in her driveway, and her twin brother sitting on the porch, painted purple in the twilight. 

He shook his head, at me, slow, and all the sound seemed to drain out of the world. The flashing police lights distorted his face, as bright white clouds passed too quickly above us. The whole scene drove a stake of wrongness hard into my chest. Sometimes even now, I dream about it. Bo and I watching each other. The dead silence. The purple light. The too white clouds. And Momo, eaten.  For the first time in my life, I was afraid of my own town. 

My name is Lin O’leary. I live in Florida, Florida, a nothing sort of place crammed into an extra forgotten corner of the state’s already forgotten coast. Some days I can forget about Momo, and everything that happened in the hours before she vanished. Heff says I’m good at keeping my eyes closed, even when they’re open. 

I really wish he were right. 

2. Cloudy with a chance of hotdogs (haunted).

J U L I E N

I was standing in front of the worst building I had ever seen. Slab grey and full of sharp edges, additions had been slapped onto every side until it resembled an impossible puzzle piece. The front windows were crowded with signs for cold beer and hot food, but the glass itself was opaque. It was a convenience store from hell, a collection of stationary parts so nonsensical I was worried it might grow a few new alcoves if I blinked. Above the door, an unintelligible sign in complicated neon cursive flashed electric blue. There was a neon clock too, flickering wildly, just striking twelve.

I must have walked halfway across town, and as far I could tell this was the only place that sold food at all, let alone past three in the morning. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to go inside. My stomach was a mess, and haunted convenience store hot dogs could only make it worse. I fished my phone out of my pocket, but the little service I had was, like the midnight clock above me, barely clinging to existence, my map application nothing more than a collection of beige squares. There was no one around. The sky was intensely dark, a pitch black blanket of clouds. Water hung thick in the air, the night time street so quiet I could almost hear beads of sweat sliding down my already slick face. No, there was nothing for it. I needed directions. 

The bell above the door made a strange, flat sound as I pressed inside. If the building was weird from the outside, that was nothing to its interior. The shelves, tall and numerous, had been arranged like maze walls. The overhead lights were blinding, stark white, and every other tile on the floor was mismatched. Some were squares of carpet. The only thing really visible from the entrance was the register, a fortress made of dark wood and surrounded by lottery advertisements. Behind the counter, a girl was reading something intently. As I got closer, I saw it was the back of a box of oatmeal.

“Hi,” I said, adjusting the duffel bag that had been crushing my left shoulder for an hour. 

The girl nodded, but didn’t look up. She had thin black hair, pin straight and chin length. Her skin was a warm, golden brown. Her shirt said something in miniscule writing, but my glasses were a little foggy, so I would have had to practically press my face to her chest to read it, which didn’t seem like a great first impression.

“Can you help me? I’m looking for the Fahrenheit Motel. I think it’s supposed to be around here.” 

Finally, she glanced at me. 

“It’s just around the corner. See the glasses store across the street? Go straight past that and make the second left, you’ll run right into it.” 

She pointed out the window, and I realized they were one way. 

“Who built this place?” I asked. 

She shrugged. 

“We’ve had a lot of owners. Everyone adds something new.”

There was something off about her. Like we were talking, but mentally she was still 

reading the box of oatmeal. 

“I’m Julien,” I said, sticking out a hand. She raised her eyebrows before taking it. 

“Lin,” she said, with another small nod. 

Her face was round, but her features were knife sharp. I wondered what she looked like angry. Maybe that was a really weird thing to think. 

Not wanting to ask for a second set of directions, I wandered around the store for thirty minutes before returning to the counter with a gallon of chocolate milk and a bag of seaweed flavored potato chips. 

“I can’t believe you have these. I didn’t think you could find them outside of California.”

Instead of replying, Lin held up the chocolate milk. 

“There’s no fridge in your room at the Fahrenheit. You know that right?”

“I was told on the phone… ” I started.

“There’s a fridge, but it’s in the lobby, communal. Kimmy’ll drink this.” She gave the milk a little shake before scanning it. “Just warning you.”

“Thanks,” I said, as she stuffed my things in a smiling shopping bag. 

I paused on my way out.

“Goodnight,” I said, “Or, good morning I guess.” 

Lin stared at me, then glanced at the box of oatmeal and back. 

“Morning,” she said, with a sigh.

***

I followed Lin’s directions, and wound up at last in front of a long, low building sporting a vacancies sign. Even in low light I could see about a hundred sad looking plastic flamingos had been stuck all over the lawn, the bushes, even the gravel path that led to the front door. I had to pick my way around them on approach. 

There was no one at the front desk. The reception area was lit only by the green blue light coming from an enormous fishtank that didn’t seem to have any fish in it. As I approached the counter, I noticed someone had left the key to my room out for me, next to a scrap of paper bearing the wifi password. I picked up the key, old and brass, then watched the fishtank for a second, before turning around and experiencing heart failure. 

A very old woman with wiry black hair was standing there in her nightgown, arms crossed and frowning at me. She didn’t apologize for nearly sending me to my grave. 

“I’m up. I can check you in properly,” she said, shuffling past me. “I’m Kimmy, but you can call me Miss Kimmy. You got ID?” 

I dug it out of my wallet while she opened a dusty guest book. 

“The reservation is for Julien True,” I said. 

Miss Kimmy glanced at the ID I had just handed her. 

“That’s not what this says.”

“I know. It’s a stage name,” I admitted, “everything else is correct.”

She raised an eyebrow to herself, but didn’t ask any more questions. 

“Now listen,” she said finally, shutting the guest book with a snap. “I’ll be honest, there’s not much to do around here. There’s a bus runs to the state forest during the day, and the beach isn’t going anywhere. If you’re hungry that’s too bad for the most part, unless you feel like walking down to Morton’s.”

“Is that the weird looking building? One way windows?”

“That’s the one. Midnight Morton’s, never closes. This late at night you’ve got Lin at the counter, nice girl.” 

I don’t know what I would have called Lin, but it probably wasn’t ‘nice girl’.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing around for the hallway that led to my room.

I bid Miss Kimmy goodnight and lugged my things to Room 7, at the very end of the dark hall. Inside was simple, but stunningly clean, which I had in no way expected. The bed had a sunken spot in the middle, and there were a lot of paintings of tropical fish on the walls. Home sweet home. I changed into pajamas, and took a huge swig of chocolate milk before glancing at my duffel, still full of equipment. 

It could wait. I was exhausted, sweaty, and more alone than I had ever been in my entire life. 

3. Welcome to my grocery store how may I assist you.

L I N

“I want to drop out of high school,” said Roach. 

We were sprawled out on separate tartan sofas, both angled towards the ancient television. It was after midnight, and the only light in the room was coming from the nature channel.

“No you don’t,” I said. “You’re not even in high school.”

Roach was a weird little girl. Eleven years old, she wore oversized thrift store t-shirts, and big chunky glasses, and cut her own hair. I loved her the most in this world.

“Yeah, but when I get there, I want to drop out. You did.”

I sighed. 

“You’re smarter than me. You have to finish school and work in a laboratory anywhere but here. Those are the rules.” 

Roach crossed and uncrossed her skinny legs without arguing. I knew she just wanted to hear me say she was smart. 

We continued to watch the nature channel in silence. A documentary on the arctic ocean was playing, which I found devastatingly boring, but Roach was clearly glued to. I could hear dad snoring upstairs, a pleasant sort of nightly white noise, and tuned out completely until Roach clapped an inch from my face. 

“Jeez,” I started, pushing her hands away.

“You were way out there. It’s freaky.”

I had been practicing my zone out since I was Roach’s age. On my best day, I could have an entire conversation without hearing one word the other person said. Call it a life skill.

“You’re doing it again!” said Roach. “Don’t you have work soon?” 

That snapped me out of it. I looked at my watch. 

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” 

I rolled off the couch as Roach sat back down with a huff. The arctic documentary was ending, and she picked up the changer to scroll through a long list of similar recordings. Roach loved animals, all of them, even fish that ate your insides, and grubs, and parasitic worms. Especially parasitic worms. 

“Don’t stay up too late okay?” I said, tugging gently on her massive ponytail. Roach got dad’s curly, reddish brown hair. I got mom’s.

“Mmhm.”

I glanced in the hall mirror to see if there was any food on my shirt. Then I stepped into the mosquito ridden, muggy Florida night, and headed to my shift.

***

You might be thinking: where does a seventeen year old high school dropout work after midnight? And the thrilling answer is: the grocery store, sort of.

You might be thinking: what? 

But that’s Morton’s. 

The sliding doors opened smoothly for me upon arrival, which was always a good omen. I straightened the newsstand and went to look for Barry.

My manager, a small, Dominican man who loved to party, was in the produce section with a woman I assumed was his latest girlfriend. He was chucking the moldiest vegetables into an open trashcan.

“Our fresh produce is a travesty,” I said. “When was the last time someone bought an eggplant here?”

“I’m thinking of moving the veg,” said Barry, “they don’t like the energy in this corner.”

Barry was constantly moving things around the small labyrinth that was Morton’s. At least once a month he would take an hour long stroll from shelf to shelf, while I wrote down what was going where. I made a new map of the store for every big move.

“What are you guys up to tonight?” I asked, as Barry followed me to the register, bag of moldy vegetables in hand.

“Dancing,” said his date, with an endearing round of jazz hands, as Barry broke into a stationary samba while he gave me a list of stuff to work on. He treated me to his own enthusiastic jazz hands, and a few notes of a Juan Luis Guerra song as he samba’d in the direction of the door. As it swung shut behind them, I let the intense silence of Morton's wash over me. The fluorescent lights hummed gently. The food sat well behaved in slightly crooked rows. I turned my brain down to its lowest setting, and consulted my list.

...

[searchingforenadi]

bleeding on the floor is a safety hazard

can i interest you in a secondPOV!OC, KHR fic in these trying times?

i woke up in the middle of the night and vomited this out - i have never been so terrified of my own lack of brain cells. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

a brief summary: Your customers won’t stop bleeding in your shop. You realize this might be a problem. (second person!OC, TYL).

i. 

You try your best not to stare at the knife in the man’s side.

“Um,” you say, passing over the packaged box of cake. “Here you go.”

He smiles brightly and hands you several bills. There is a sword strapped to his back and you are terrified to even allow the thought that he might be foreign. “Thanks! Keep the change.”

You nod minutely. Then, the actual number of those bills catches up to you like a freight train off the rails. “Wait - ”

But it’s too late - the man, the cake, and his accompanying knife are gone. You look down to find that he’s left behind a puddle of blood.

You breathe in deeply, count to ten, count backwards from ten, and march back to the kitchens to grab some towels and soap. 

The cake had been paid twice over - you’ll take a little bit of blood for that any day. 

ii. 

It’s hard to imagine that something as exciting as a bleeding man would eventually fade into your memories, but that’s exactly what happens. 

A week goes by and you’re hauling over a new delivery of flour. It’s tough work but you’ve done this for years - eventually, the shop’s ready for another day.

You reach the front entrance. And stop.

The same man from last week, Knife Man, waves through the glass door. He has a new companion - not a knife - who scowls under a crown of silver hair.

You consider taking the day off. 

But no, your bills won’t pay themselves, and if they pay as well as last time, you might even be able to buy a new electric mixer.

Decision made, you flip over the sign and open the door.

“Hi again,” Knife Man says, a smile still on his face. “Sorry about last time.”

“That’s okay,” you say politely, because returning customers are golden. Your regulars are your saving grace. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same to you,” he says, tugging his friend over to the counter. His fingers trail eagerly over the sweets on display as he turns to the man. “Come on, pick one!”

You move behind the register and wait patiently. 

“I don’t like sweets!” Knife Man’s friend snaps. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you today.”

Ever the business owner, you pipe in, “We also have drinks, if that’s more to your taste.”

That gets the man’s attention. 

“I’ll just have a coffee then,” he grumbles, fishing out his wallet. 

Knife Man joins his friend and grins. “Then I’ll have a slice of tiramisu.” 

“This early in the morning?” Knife Man’s friend hisses. 

Pointedly avoiding any conversational traps, you say, “Coffee and tiramisu. Together?”

The friend huffs. “Sure, fine. Here, keep the change. For the idiot’s blood.”

You blink at the money shoved into your face. If you had been any other person, you might protest at the clear extortion - it’s just blood. 

But you had been raised pragmatically and so, with a smile, you accept the bills. 

“Please wait a moment,” you tell them, and get started on the coffee. 

In a few minutes, you pack the cake neatly into a little box and hand it over with a cup of espresso.

“Thanks,” Knife Man’s friend grumbles, taking a sip of his drink before glancing back down at the cup. “Huh.”

You don’t challenge any strange noises made over your products, you remind yourself, and smile pleasantly instead. 

They leave quickly after, with Knife Man waving once again, and you release a sigh.

“Electric mixer, electric mixer,” you hum, sweeping the floor with a broom. “So very soon, electric mixer - ”

iii. 

A few days later, the front door opens and, lo and behold, it’s Knife Man’s friend, silver hair tied behind his head. 

You smile in greeting and ponder the possibility that you just might be cursed. 

“Two coffees,” he says, with nary a greeting. 

You’ve met worse, so you take the money handed to you and make quick work of the order.

It’s clear he’s not interested in making any small talk and, if you’re honest, you’re not really eager to start any yourself.

Soon enough, you hand over two steaming cups over the counter. 

“Thanks,” the man says, proving that he’s not yet a lost cause. Under his breath, he mutters, “That damn machine better be fixed by now.”

Technological difficulties - you can sympathize. You wave off the man and get started on your next order.

iv.

You don’t encounter any issues involving blood until a month later, after several more visits from your strangest regulars. 

“The usual,” Knife Man says brightly, seemingly oblivious to the cut above his eye and the blood trickling down his face. 

Knife Man’s friend casually tucks his clearly burned fingers into his sleeves. “The same for me.”

There is a moment of silence. 

How, you wonder, is he going to carry his coffee with burned fingers? You know how that feels. Intimately, in fact - you’re a baker. 

But that’s none of your business and so, very politely, you accept the money - stained with suspicious black dots - before getting started on the order. 

You hand over the food and coffee and say, “Here you are.”

“Thank you,” Knife Man says, gingerly accepting both the cake and coffee. He stops for a moment before studying you curiously. He smiles broadly. “I’m Yamamoto, by the way. And this is Gokudera!”

Japanese names, you note, even as the newly named Gokudera barks at the man.

“ - the hell are you thinking, you idiot?”

Yamamoto shrugs, somehow unhindered by the food, coffee, sword and blood on his face. “I think we’ve been here often enough.”

You very clearly ignore the incredibly suspicious conversation continuing on before you. 

“Good to know,” you say instead, because as nice as it is, having bleeding customers is not the best reputation for any business. “I’ll see you next time, Yamamoto, Gokudera.”

“Same here,” Yamamoto says - his Italian is impeccable, you notice.

Gokudera grunts, eyes boring into you suspiciously. 

“You say our names very naturally,” he says slowly, eyes narrowing.

You can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“I’m half?” you offer, not sure why it should matter. “I’m not fluent though.”

Yamamoto looks incredibly pleased. “Wow! That makes a lot of sense.”

You… still can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a threat.

“Thanks,” you say, because what else can you say? Your mom’s genes are strong in your veins, so it’s not really surprising. 

They leave not long after, Yamamoto calling out goodbye and Gokudera squinting right at you. 

You lean over the counter and check the floor, just in case. It’s nearly safe, until you notice several specks of blood all over the counter itself.

“... damn.”

v.

One morning, Yamamato enters the shop with a new companion. 

“Hey!” he greets, the early hour not bothering him in the slightest.

It’s suspicious because at this point, you are very aware that Yamamoto does not drink any sort of caffeine. 

Very suspicious, you think, staring almost enviously at his non-existent dark circles. 

His friend, however, seems appropriately more miserable. 

“One cappuccino, please,” the man says, chestnut hair all over the place. His hazel eyes droop slightly. 

You smile in sympathy. “Got it.”

“Oh, also,” Yamamoto pipes in, leaning onto the counter. “We’ll be staying here for a while - that okay?”

You blink at the change.

“Sure,” you say, gesturing to the few seating arrangements you have. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

You cut up a larger slice of tiramisu and set it on a plate. As the milk boils, you wonder what’s so different now - Yamamoto always orders to-go. 

Pouring the foam over a cup of espresso, you decide it’s none of your business. You didn’t build up your customer base by being nosy.

“Here,” you say, sliding over the cake first. Yamamoto grins in thanks. “And the cappuccino…?”

You watch as Yamamoto’s friend stares blankly into the distance.

“Um,” You say. You look back at Yamamoto. “Is he okay?”

Yamamoto lets out a long laugh. 

“He’s fine,” he says, waving a hand. “We just had a long night. Hey, Tsuna. Tsuna!”

The aforementioned Tsuna startles, dark eyes blinking rapidly. “Wha - ?”

You wait patiently as he looks blearily up at you. Raising the drink in your hands, you try again. “Your cappuccino?”

Face flushing slightly, Tsuna moves to grab the drink. “Right! Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay,” you start to say, about to let the cup go, but something slips along Tsuna’s grip. 

You catch the cup right as it's about to tilt.

“Careful there,” you say wryly, deciding to skip the dangerous part and setting down the cup on the table. Patiently, you tell him, “It’s hot.”

For some reason, Tsuna’s face darkens even further. “O-Okay, sorry.”

“Not a problem,” you say, shrugging because a missed accident is as good as no accident. “Enjoy your stay.”

They stay for another half hour before departing, and you wave back when Yamamoto says goodbye. Appearing more awake than before, Tsuna gives a half-hearted wave as well. 

All in a day’s work, you think, cleaning down their table and moving on to help another customer.

vi.

Two weeks later, Yamamoto’s friend, Tsuna, walks in with the look of someone ready to jump the bridge at any moment’s notice.

Yikes, you think, and put on your best customer smile. “Can I help you?”

The frazzled look in his eyes does not go away.

“I need a drink?” he asks, which is not the strangest way someone has ordered from your shop, but it’s still pretty up there. Rubbing his eyes, he tries again. “Sorry - usually Hayato’s the one to grab them. He never told me the name.”

“Hayato?” you ask, already filing through the people Tsuna might know (it’s a short list, you only have two regulars that dress in suits like those). 

Tsuna groans into his hands. “Right. His last name is Gokudera?”

“Ah,” you say, already getting started on the coffee. You try to offer some help. “It’s usually just coffee. Nothing special.”

And just like that, Tsuna’s face transforms from someone wanting to die into someone wanting to die. 

It’s not polite to laugh at your customers, you remind yourself, turning back to the coffee. You swallow the bark of laughter in your throat.

By the time you face him again, your face is at its most polite. 

“Just one, right?” you ask, ever the professional. Remembering last time, you very carefully pass over the drink.

Tsuna nods silently and slides over some cash.

“Thanks,” he says, before practically flying out the shop. 

The moment the door closes shut, you crouch down and let out a loud ha! 

Then, you stand up, features settled back to normal, and pocket the cash into the register.

-o-o-o-o-o-

the terrifying part is that there is more to this and it’s not stopping. i imagine MC can be any gender you see them as for now, with a nice amount of respect for local authorities and common sense, and perhaps a dash of great customer service. 

this began as an attempt to write some sort of romantic Tsuna/OC fic - which is as big of a joke as I am, because it’s clear MC is too pragmatic for anything like that. at this point, anything is up for grabs.

[littlebitoffanfic]

I’ll Return - part 2

Fandom: The Hills Have Eyes Characters: Ruby, Mars, others mentioned Relationship: Mars/reader Request: Can I officially request a continuation of the Mars soulmate au? Maybe the reader took a few years to return for him due to trying to get settled and ready for a life with him and ruby in the outside. Reader fights tooth and nail to have him go with her this time. With some fluff and/or smut please? A/N: little steamy kissing section, but that’s as far as the smut goes… for now

Part 1

 Ruby knew you were thinking about it again. About him. You had gone quiet for a few days and she heard you crying at night. In the mornings, you seemed distant and away with the fairies. She settled at the table across from you, flattening the skirt she wore out as she did so. Drawing your attention away from the window, you looked at the young woman. She had truly grown since you first met her. Ruby thrived in the real world, now working a cash-in-hand job at the local shop. She was still a little skittish around strangers who weren’t on the other side of a counter, but she was getting better at hiding it. You couldn’t help but smile at her. To think it had been 2 years since you first found this little house. By pure coincidence, you had been talking with Ruby at a diner, just after you left. The old woman there had seen the dirt on Rubys skin and the way you were both dressed (slightly ripped clothes and messy hair). “Now, cant have two girls wondering around on their own. Don’t worry, loves. I’ll help yah.” Marge had said, telling you both to stay till closing. She bought you to this house, telling you that it was her sisters but due to an unfortunate accident, the house now lay bare. She couldn’t bring herself to sell the land, and offered it in return for labour. You took a job in the front of the diner with ease, but Marge could see Ruby had troubles at would make it difficult. So she started the young girl out in the kitchen, washing dishes with her husband, Old Jack. The place was run by family, with Marge having both her cousin and her aunt Flo working there. Old Jack had rolled his eyes when he set them on the two of you. “Im already out numbered back here.” He’d snapped, nodding to the front where the three woman stood chatting. But the smirk that followed showed no malice. So that was where you stayed. Ruby was asked by Flo if she would want to help in her husbands shop as a shelf stocker which was quieter and not as hectic as a kitchen, and Ruby nodded so hard her head might have fallen off. You took care of money. It was something Ruby had never had to worry about, in the sense of budgeting and bills. You sat down with her, explaining what needed to be paid and how it would portion out but she just started at you blankly. So you gave her an allowance for her own personal things while you pooled the rest of the money for bills. The first thing you did when you got your first paycheque was take her to the local clothes store and treat her. She came home with a new hat, a few tops and jeans as well as some nice skirts and three pairs of shoes. She had been bouncing off the walls with excitement. The house was large. With three floors, it had a small room and three double rooms on the second floor and the third was a large master bedroom. Ruby got first choice, but she still chose the double room. You took the master bedroom on the top floor. And so here you were, two years later with a lovely house, a full fridge, a closet of clothes and a warm bed. Yet you felt empty still. Your eyes drifted back to that tattoo. “I think-“ Ruby hesitated, as if trying to find the right words. “-It would be a good time to try.” Instantly, you knew what she was talking about because you had been thinking the same thing. “Me too. But I think the first time I should go back alone.” You sip your drink and glance to the clock. It was only 8am. You were both off today, but Ruby liked getting up and watching the sun rise. So you and her had spent the morning pottering about and now just sat down for some caffeine while Ruby had a bowl of cereal. Ruby looked up from her cereal. You could see the concern in her eyes as her spoon was forgotten half way to her mouth. “He might not want to come. I really hope he does, but if it feels like he wouldn’t be happy, I cant force him. But if it feels like it is something he wants, and still wont come then we can both look at going back.” You put your cup down and reach across the table to take her free hand. “And I don’t want to put you back in danger.” She opened her mouth to argue, but you knew she had that fear still. So she nodded, squeezing your hand. “When will you go?” She asked. “Today.” The moment she heard what you said, she chocked a little, making you chuckle. “Why wait? Im off today and tomorrow.” She spent the next hour or so flitting about. She gave you weapons just in case, as well as packing you some food and bottles of water. Poor Ruby couldn’t seem to sit still as you got ready. She put your things out to the car and double checking everything until you were pulling on your jacket. She didn’t question you, and you knew she had went back into herself, afraid to speak up or question you. You hugged her and bid her goodbye. Ruby stayed in your rear view mirror until she was out of sight.

  The drive was long. You found yourself unable to concentrate fully on the road, seeming to go into auto pilot as you drove. When you realized you were on the dreaded straight was when you passed the gas station. The very one where you had spent some time. Pulling up, you saw the place was locked up. the door was shut and boarded up. Maybe Fred had gotten away, or maybe he had fallen to Jupiter’s rage. You didn’t know, and in truth, you didn’t want to find out. Looking down the road, you wondered about driving on a little, but you knew there was a valley in the hills just behind the gas station. It was were Mars and Ruby would come out of when they visited you. Drumming your fingers on the wheel, you wondered what you should do next. You couldn’t go running into the hills, since there was a better chance that one of the other family members would find you before Mars would. You didn’t know whether to wait it out and see if someone came out, or whether to try leave a note or something. You really hadn’t thought beyond getting to the gas station. it seemed like such a far away and daunting task that actually being here was like stepping into a memory. Pulling the car into the shade of the gas station so you could just see the entrance to the hills, you were about to plan your next step when you saw movement coming from the shop. From the rear door of the shop, Mars stepped out. He took a drink from a bottle of water and closing the door over behind him. Then he started to walk back to the entrance. The wonder of how he didn’t seem to hear of see the car was lost as you felt your world stop. He was exactly as you remembered him, and you were pretty sure you must have been looking back at him with rose tinted glasses. Getting out the car, you raced to catch up with him, finding your mouth dry as you silently approached him. “Mars?” you spoke his name, knowing better than to run up behind him and wrap your arms around him. The second you spoke, Mars froze. The bottle he had been drinking from dropped to the ground as he turned to look at you He stared at you, his eyes seeming to glaze over as if day dreaming. You opened your mouth to say something but ended up closing it again. What could you say to him? You had focused so much on seeing him again that you had little plan on how to persuade him to come back with you. Maybe you should have bought Ruby, and then if you two could have thrown him in the back of the car and drove away before he could escape. The humorous idea shot some life back into you as you smiled a little. Then a little more as you realized you were back with him for a moment. “Mars.” You whispered his name, and saw a visible shiver run down his spin as he hunched over himself slightly and dropped his gaze. “Why did yah come back?” He asked, his voice broken and horse. Very horse. Frowning, your eyes darted to his neck. It wasn’t easy to see considering the top he wore, the curls from his hair and the dark shadow that was cast of that area. But as you focused, you saw a bruise. Not even a small one. It wrapped around the front of his neck, the purple and black marking his skin. Stepping forward, you closed the distance between you too. You didn’t notice Mars freeze up, staring at you with wide eyes as he seemed to stop breathing. Raising a finger, you gently touched the bruised flesh. “Does it hurt?” You ask, looking up at him. It was only then that you realized how close you had gotten. His face hovered only 4 or 5 inches from your own. So close. “Not now.” He breathed, his eyes falling to your lips. trailing your fingers around to the back of his neck, you allowed your hand to slid into his curls, earning another shiver. You smiled at the reaction. “Ive missed you.” You tell him, smiling despite the fear. His fingers hover over your side, about to touch you when something in him seemed to snap. “You shouldn’t have come back. Go.” He commanded before twisting out of your touch and walking away quickly. You stumbled forward, confused beyond belief before running to catch up with him. “Mars, Please.” You call after him, following him but struggling to keep up with his pace. “Come home with me?” The words slowed Mars down until he stopped. You walked up behind him, slipping your arms around his torso as you pressed your forehead against his back. “I want to share my life with you. We’re soulmates. Right?” You shake your head as you feel your heart hammer. You started to doubt yourself. He kept refusing you. You tried to shake off the idea that your soul mate might just not want you because it seemed impossible, yet here you were, doubting if he was yours. He hadn’t given you a real reason not to come with you. Ruby had been practically bursting to get away from this life, and you found out later that Jupiter was an abusive piece of shit. So you would have thought he would have wanted away from this life. So perhaps he didn’t really want to come with you. But Mars had wanted to kept you hidden so you could stay. Confusion raked through your body as you tried to figure out what to do next. But you couldn’t until you asked a very important question. “Mars?” You closed your eyes as they filled with tears. “Do you want to come with me?” You put slight emphasis on the word ‘you’, hoping he hadn’t picked up on your shaking voice. Mars paused for a moment, and you felt your world stand still for a moment as you waited for his answer. “Yeah.” Mars breathed, barely audible. Your arms drop from around him as you step in front so you could look up at him. He looked so conflicted, unable to look you in the eyes as he frowned in through. “Why cant you?” You asked, placing a hand on his chest in hope that it might sooth him. “My brothers. I cant leave ‘em.” He whispered to you, glancing to an opening in the hills. “Bring them. Theres enough room and I know Ruby missed them.” You encourage him, nodding as he looks back to you. His mind worked quickly as he drew together a plan that you didn’t know. “Go back to the car. Don’t get out. Keep the door locked. And if I aint back just after sundown, you leave.” His spoke with such control and authority, you felt a small tremble of lust shoot through you as you nodded. He was about to walk away, but you grabbed his hand. As he looked back to you in confusion, you darted forward. Going up on your tip toes, you kissed him. The immediate rush of adrenaline and pleasure was almost overwhelming as you let out a small mewl. Mars was so shocked by the kiss that he didn’t respond until he heard you mewl in pleasure, and he was immediately lost in your lips. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest before running up and down your back. As he deepened the kiss, it appeared he had found more courage as his hand moved down past your back to grope your ass and a growl left his throat. Your hands ran up his front to then drape your arms over his shoulders. Your fingers played with his curls, but in truth you couldn’t concentrate fully on anything other than his lips. In an unexpected move, he suddenly lifted you up. You squealed a little but Mars refused to break the kiss as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso. He pins you to the rock face, pressing his body against yours as his hands explored your sides. A groan escaped his throat as he explored your mouth. You give him full access, allowing him to dominate the kiss. Your fingers gripped his hair as you silently begged him for more. The small tug of his hair only earned more lust filled moans from Mars who began to grind against you. The cloud of lust which had settled over your mind was quickly cleared when you heard a voice. “MARS! Where are yah?!” The voice gave you a fright, but it sounded distant, as if playing on a television or maybe over a phone. Mars took a moment, only appearing to pull back when he noticed you had frozen. Keeping you pressed against the wall with one arm still supporting you, he pulled a walkie-talkie out of his back pocket. “Just comin’ back.” He mumbled over the radio. It was apparently enough to silence the voice as nothing else was said. You both knew that the make-out session was over, and you were suddenly back in the real world. The one where you would probably be running for your life in a few hours. The one where Mars was about to do something which could get him killed. He lowered you to the floor, but didn’t back away. Instead, he hugged you. His head was on top of your own, as if kissing your hair but he didn’t. he just kept you close, as if trying to memorize your scent. “Go to the car, wait for you and your brothers, take you away, be happy.” You listed off the actions as you looked up, causing him to pull away. He smirked, but you could see in his eyes that it wasn’t going to be that easy.

------------------- time skip ---------------

 The day had taken ages, and you felt constantly on edge as you waited for darkness. You had to sit in the darkness, the car turned off and no lights on inside either. The car and you had to blend into the night. The silence was almost driving you insane. You couldn’t turn on the radio, so you were left in the dark and silence. You were drumming your fingers on the wheel, not keeping to any tune or song as your leg bounced with anxiety. The lack of communication was the worse. If only you knew they were on their way, or that they were safe at least. Glancing ahead, you felt your heart stop and your mouth go dry. You sat up straight, seeing three figures running to the car. You held your breath, squinting your eyes in the darkness. When you saw the bouncing of Mars’ curls, you turned on the engine, still keeping the lights off for now. They were running from something, or someone, and you were pretty sure they would need a quick getaway. Unlocking the door, they were flung open as the boys jumped into the car. “Go.” Mars demanded as he slammed the passenger door behind him with the other two got in the back. You nodded, turning on the headlights and you screamed. In front of the car was a man. Jupiter. He was angry, screaming insults as he raised an axe, about to bring it down on the hood of the car. You shoved the car in reverse and floor it backwards, causing Jupiter to swing forward and hit nothing. The momentum from the swing caused him to stumble forward. You slammed on the breaks, put the car in first gear and put your foot to the floor. Yanking the steering wheel to the side, you narrowly missed the deranged man as you drove away. “You okay?” You asked, glancing to Mars then back to the road. “Yeah, just keep drivin’” Mars leaned back in his seat, panting. It probably didn’t help that you had given them all a heart attack when you first saw Jupiter and screamed. Glancing in the rear view mirror, you saw the two brothers. While you had never met them, you had seen the tall one with the bald head before and knew him as Pluto. As for Mercury, you had heard him on radios, but never seen him before. He was smaller than his brothers, perhaps even shorter than Ruby. He was hunched over himself, both his legs pulled up to his chest and his feet perched on the seat. “You two okay?” You call back, turning your head a little to see them in your peripheral vision. Two nods calmed your worry as you turned back to the road. The drive was tense, and really awkward. You understood why. Neither Mercury or Pluto knew who you were. Perhaps they knew you had taken Ruby away, but you didn’t know if they considered that a good thing or not. You decided not to push them, allowing them some time with their thoughts for now. Mars kept quiet the whole away, to the point you thought he might have fallen asleep. You reached across and placed your hand on his thigh, making him jump slightly until he saw no threat and relaxed again. Nothing was said until you pulled up outside the house. Instantly, you felt guilty. Ruby must have been worried out her mind. You had barely climbed out the car when the door flung open and the young woman came hurtling out the house. “[y/n]!” She tried out, her arms flying around your neck as her body collided with your own so hard you stumbled back a little. “Im sorry for scaring you.” You held her tight, feeling how she was shaking. “Ruby?” Mercury’s voice called out her name she pulled back. The others had gotten silently out the car. “Merc…” She trailed off, blinking as if suspecting it was a trick of the light. Until her face broke in to a massive smile as she called out his name, running to him. With the same enthusiastic hug, she threw herself at her brother, who spun her around. You smiled as she embraced all her brothers the same way and earned different responses. Pluto patted her head with a smile while Mars ended up standing rather awkwardly. You laughed, whole heartedly for the first time in a while. There was so much to say, to explain, to question. But now wasn’t the time. Inviting them into the warm glow of the house felt like they were being invited into a dream. Mercury and Pluto were eager to follow their sister, while Mars paused outside. “Mars? You coming in?” You call out to him, holding the door open. His eyes fell on you as he blinked slowly before stepping inside, leaving his past at the door as he started his future with you and his family.

[aries-writingblog]

Atlas (8)

Summary: After years of being imprisoned on the Raft, Tony negotiates freedom for his sister Tessa. When she’s free- so is her past, and it will never stop hunting her.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC(Stark)

Chapter Word count: 1810

Warnings: PTSD (subtle ish), trauma, torture (in later parts), suicidal behaviors and thoughts, mentions of death, character death, injury, violence, angst, and a lil bit of fluff in there

Disclaimer: Atlas is my own, original work with characters belonging to Marvel (except Tessa and Dr. Clifton). Plagiarism is not cool kids.

A/N: this is my first work I'm posting to this platform and I’m really excited and nervous about it. Hope you enjoy- constructive criticism is always helpful as well!!

She couldn’t breathe. There was a pressure building on her left side, an itch she couldn’t scratch. Her eyes were dry, like her mouth. Tessa peeled her eyelids open, having been cemented shut, it took tremendous effort- effort she barely possessed. She couldn’t hear straight, it sounded like she was underwater. A muted beep from a monitor. Rain pelting the windows of the white washed clinical room. Something tickling her forearm. She looked down. Tony.

He was grasping her hand, resting his head beside them, hair tickling her skin. She then moved her eyes to her side where a tube was running from a patch of white bandages. Along her right arm, bandages were wrapped around raw flesh. She could still see the burn marks on her wrists. In her left arm, an IV filtered blood and fluids into her system, repairing what had been damaged. She groaned as she rested her head on the pillow.

She wasn’t supposed to make it out of there. None of this had gone according to her plan. Tessa wasn’t stupid. She knew Clifton would be on her as soon as she stepped foot out of her cage on the Raft. She knew she would have to make a choice, a choice of repentance. So, when she noticed the trap he’d set for them, she couldn’t help but take the bait. Part of her wanted to flip the script and take revenge on him. But then... then Bucky happened. He’d been so kind to her- accepting her. She felt that she owed him a truth- even if it was in the form of a dead man’s ramblings. And so she did just that- confided in him, knowing that one way or another, she was never going to come back. He wasn’t supposed to be collateral damage.

Tony shifted, his head turning further away from her. She bit her lip, sinking down deeper into the sheets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y’know, if you cooperated with the professionals, things would go a lot smoother.” Tony snipped at her. Tessa scowled deeper, turning her head to the side. It had been a week since the mission, since everything about Tessa had been made public amongst the team. Since Tony had released the files to the whole team, Tessa had been ignoring him every time he visited her. She was angry- the emotion palpable in the air. She had even begun to be irritable with the nurses and her doctor. Of course, they associated it with her being on bed rest for a week- knowing it would get worse because she was meant to stay there for a whole month.

She refused to allow any of the team members entrance to her room- even Bucky. Tony was only allowed in because he told Friday to over ride her command. News of her slow response to treatment had to come from the nurses or the small bits that Tony would share- which was always begrudgingly. Her therapist and parole officer were also allowed in for their visits. There had been talk of moving her back to the Raft, but Tony had shot it down, explaining in colorful detail how she hadn’t done anything wrong. Ever.

But Tessa was becoming restless. She could no longer stand the sight of the hospital room. When she was trapped within the four walls, she could only think about the botched missions and what Clifton said. She was trapped. So, she decided to take things into her own hands. Painstakingly slow, she got up from her bed, a tube no longer in her lung but it was still stitched up and painful. Most of her wounds were well on their way to healing but her mind was still fragile.

Tessa had been immediately changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t shirt as soon as she regained consciousness. So she simply unhooked her heart monitor, taking her IV of fluids with her to the door.

She hadn’t realized Bucky had done nothing but sit outside her medical room for the past week, waiting to be able to slip into the room to talk to her. Tony had been guarding her, keeping him away. Unlike his sister, Tony held a grudge. So when Tessa’s door opened and she stepped out, he was surprised. She looked like she hadn’t slept since she came back- undoubtedly plagued by nightmares. Her skin was pale, under eyes dark. When her eyes landed on his, she stiffened, her whole body freezing. They stared for a long moment, neither of them giving in.

“If you’re breaking out of your room, you’ll need to move a little faster.” Bucky quipped, a teasing tone overtaking the concern. Tessa started to take off, her gait a small, shuffle toward the elevator. Bucky stood up, stretching his arms out before sidling up beside her.

“What do you want?” She muttered, slightly annoyed and embarrassed by his presence. She almost stumbled, her left foot catching on her right. She cursed lowly, while Bucky simply hooked an arm around her waist, steadying her. She tried to push away but Bucky had an iron grip, keeping her where he wanted. He was done waiting around. He was going to talk to her whether she wanted to or not. She was going to listen to what he had to say.

“Well if you’re going for a little sight seeing- might I suggest the floor ninety? It’s got a lovely view and- bonus: less of an elevator ride.” Bucky steered her into the elevator and locked her down, his hand drawing smooth circles on her hip.

“Isn’t that your floor?” She grumbled, leaning against him to relieve some of the weight on her feet. He hummed in response and looked down at her. She was scowling, eyes glued to the floor.

“See, I’ve been waiting outside that room for a week now. I’ve had time to think about everything that was said while we were in captivity. Don’t think I’m an idiot, by the way.” Bucky watched her begin to shut down at the mentions of the cell. The mentions of her admitted transgressions. “I’ve been where you are, where you’ve been.” Tessa scoffed as the elevator dinged open.

“You don’t know me.” She bit back, eager to be out of his hold, out of his sight. She couldn’t hold herself together around him anymore. Telling him everything- trusting him with that information... she didn’t want to see him now, not when he could judge her for it. Because all she wanted from him was to be accepted. Not pitied, not scorned, not disgusted. Loved. She didn’t know what the two kisses were on that battlefield, she didn’t know what any of it meant.

“Don’t I?” He asked, opening the apartment door. The pair quickly pushed through the living room, bypassing Steve who was sat on the couch, watching the news. He had heard the door open, figuring it was Bucky so he didn’t turn. Until he heard the roll of wheels.

“Is that Tessa?” He called, watching the receding backs of the two. His brows furrowed as Bucky’s bedroom door slammed shut, cutting the pair off from the rest of the world.

“Oh, well please, enlighten me on how you know every thought I’ve ever had.” Tessa sat down on his bed, the white cotton sheets felt much better than the stiff medbay fabrics she had been confined to.

“Alright, fine,” Bucky began shuffling around his room, seemingly in search of something. “You shut yourself off from everyone, you think it keeps us safe but really, it’s just a way of excusing your pity party and prolonging suffering you feel you deserve. You keep everything to yourself, no matter how much it pains you to do that. You don’t sleep well, nightmares keeping you up. You don’t eat much- if you do it’s at random times at night, where you don’t have to interact with us. You let one person in and immediately shut them out because you felt that you could hurt them before even giving it a chance.” Bucky stopped his search, turning to look at her over his shoulder. “Am I par for the course?”

“Shut the hell up.” She growled, gently laying back on his neatly made bed. “So what if i don’t want to hurt you- why is that a bad thing? I want to keep you all safe. What’s the harm in that- what the fuck are you looking for?”

“Got it...” Bucky stood straight again before walking to her. He knelt down on the bed beside her. “It isn’t a bad thing- it’s just that you’re going about it in a destructive way. You can keep us safe and live too. The way you’re going now, that’s not living. You’re just floating from day to day. Here. They found 'em last week and sent them to me. I’ve been waiting to give them to you.” He held a hand out, intending to drop the object into her palm. Tessa sighed and held it out flat. A cool metal grazed her palm and she broke her gaze off from his to look at it. Dog tags. She held them in front of her face to read them more clearly. They were slightly rusted, but the name was still clear: James Buchanan Barnes. “I’m not judging you for a mistake made six years ago. A mistake that was made with the best intentions in mind. With the best resources you had at the time. The Tessa I want to know is still in there- I’ve seen her during those late night talks in the light of the fridge. I’ve heard her when you talked about growing up with Tony or your early days in the military. And I’m gonna do everything I can to make her happy, because she’s gone through enough.”

Tessa swallowed, feeling the beginning of tears pricking at her eyes. She was speechless- her own mind waging war on itself.

“You know just what to say to make a girl blush, huh?” She sniffled, trying to laugh through it. Bucky grinned and took the tags, slipping them over her head, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Stay here for the night, please? I know that you shouldn’t really be out of the med bay yet but... I want to talk to you- I want to be around you. Please?” Bucky asked, his bottom lip pouting slightly and his blue eyes shining with hope. Tessa pretended to think it over, pressing her hand to the dog tags that occupied her chest.

“Okay. I’ll stay here. Only for tonight- and no funny business, Barnes.” She winced, sitting up. Bucky was quick to press a hand to her back, helping her sit. He gave a grin that would make the Cheshire Cat bashful.

“No promises, sweetheart.”

[calenheniel]

Queen of the Ashes, a frozen fanfic | Part IV

Frozen | Alternate Universe | Hans x Elsa | Romance, Drama | T+

They met as children, each with a secret. Plagued by tragedy, their paths meet again many years later, and their secrets are unraveled.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Updates: #QueenoftheAshesFrozen

Author’s Note: This fic is probably going to end up being 7-8 parts in total in draft form. I may then go back and re-edit to have it published in 4-5 longer chapters. Anyway, I don’t want to say anything else. Happy quarantine reading!

»»————-　❈　————-««

IV.

She awoke the next morning to a vicious headache, groaning at the sunlight streaming through her window.

Every scene from the night before came into clear focus, and she swore at herself for refusing to drink, wishing that she could forget certain conversations.

I wouldn’t joke about something like this.

She rolled over, stuffing her face in her pillows, trying to block out the sound of his voice.

I wanted to be honest with you, Elsa.

She raised herself up on her hands in a huff, marching over to her closet and throwing the doors open with a burst of wintry wind. She regretted it as soon as she saw her clothes covered in a dusting of snow, and brushed it off while muttering to herself, the headache unabating.

Just as she finished changing, a knock on the door made her jump, and her newly-made crown nearly fell from her hands.

“Your Majesty? It’s Gerda,” said the voice of a servant on the other side. “Breakfast is ready for you. The princess is already at the table.”

The queen almost dropped the crown again, blinking. “Anna is… at breakfast? Already?”

The older woman creaked the door open a little to smile at her queen. “Yes, Your Majesty. With one of your guests, I believe.”

She turned red from her face down to her hands, still uncovered, and her mouth dropped open, then shut again, before she could manage to reply. “I see. Thank you for telling me,” she said, and quickly slid on her gloves. With trembling hands, she secured her crown atop her head. “I’ll be down shortly.”

“I’ll let them know,” the servant said, curtsying and closing the door.

The queen leaned against her bedpost, shaking her head. A frown spread across her features and remained there even as she left the room, taking long and angry – but still outwardly composed – strides through the hall and down the staircase.

She stopped just before the entryway to the private dining room, and took a deep breath, knowing what waited for her if she turned the corner.

I can promise you that it’s not Anna I’m after.

She shifted her frown into a neutral expression with some effort, swallowing, and stepped forward.

Her headache was gone.

»» —— ««

“Elsa! We’ve been here for a while. I thought maybe you decided to sleep in, for once.”

Her sister’s exclamation forced the queen to present a smile, though her nose wrinkled as she did. “Yes,” she replied dryly. She ignored the other person in the room even as he rose and bowed to acknowledge her entrance. “How the tables have turned.”

Her sister laughed at the remark until she snorted, and the prince sat down again. “She’s saying that because I’m never up this early,” the princess explained to their guest, grinning. “Elsa’s always back at work by the time I make it downstairs.”

Her smile dipped a little at this last comment, though the prince was quick to reply: “Is she?” He looked up at the young queen, who was taking her seat at the head of the table when their eyes finally met. “I can see that.”

She stared daggers back at him until he turned away. “I feel very fortunate to have been invited to a private breakfast with you two,” he continued, bowing his head. “It’s been a long time since I shared a meal with family,” he said, smiling sadly, “or something like family.”

Her lip twitched at the comment, and she could barely restrain a scowl as her sister pressed a sympathetic hand to his. “Well you have us, now,” the princess assured him, “and you can join us for breakfast or for any other meal whenever you like.”

Irritation crackled through the queen’s spine. “Anna…” she said, “I don’t think—”

“Don’t worry, Elsa,” her sister interrupted. “I already told Hans he’s welcome to stay with us in the castle as long as he likes, so he doesn’t have to go back home so soon.”

Her mouth went limp. “As long as he likes,” she repeated, oblivious to the servants placing her meal down in front of her.

“Yep,” her sister said, smiling. “Won’t it be great to have him around? Up until yesterday, we haven’t had anyone else here in the longest time,” she said, adding in a gentler way: “I know it’ll be a change from what we’re used to, but… isn’t change good, sometimes, too?”

She gripped her silverware hard enough to feel them start to ice over, and then she exhaled, compelling herself to nod politely in agreement. “It can be,” she forced the words out, and then looked at the prince, her gaze hollow. “And has our guest agreed to stay?”

He matched the princess’s smile. “Yes, at least for the next two weeks of festivities,” he replied, standing to bow. “Or as long as you’ll both have me.”

She gestured for him to sit again, and turned to her sister. “We should talk about this later,” she said. “Anyway, please keep eating, or the food will get cold.”

The princess pouted but went back to buttering her toast, eyeing her sister with caution in the silence.

The queen refused to meet the look, finding her gaze torn between her breakfast – which she had no appetite for – and the prince, who ate his meal with patient precision, his utensils hardly making noise as they touched the plate.

At length, she cleared her throat to get his attention. “So,” she began, tapping her nails against her glass of water, “what were you two talking about, before I arrived?”

“I was just—”

“We were mostly just talking about that time he visited when we were kids,” her sister interjected, looking relieved to be speaking again. “He was reminding me about a lot that I had forgotten.”

She swallowed, her stomach turning just as it had the night before. “Did he?” she asked. “And what did you remind her of, Hans?”

“Just the games we used to play together—or rather,” he corrected himself, “of the games I used to watch the two of you play, while I skulked off to the corner.” He chuckled. “I was really so unfriendly back then. It’s a wonder you two were still so kind to me in spite of it.”

Suspicion laced her stare as her sister giggled at the memory. “Yeah, you were a little on the antisocial side. But you did help us with those puzzle sets that I hated, and I almost got to dress you up in one of Elsa’s gowns that one time, before you ran away.”

As they laughed, the queen watched their exchange between small bites of her meal. Observing how her sister’s sunny, bright disposition was unflinching throughout, she wondered if her deeper fears were unfounded.

“But you told us that really good story that one time, about a kid who could… make fire? Or something like that.” The princess shook her head with a smile. “You had a good imagination for such a sourpuss.”

He looked embarrassed at the comment. “Oh, that? I’m surprised you remember it,” he replied. “I just made it up on the spot, actually. It wasn’t from a book, or anything like that.”

“I knew it!” the princess proclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Even as a kid. I mean, I don’t really remember it that well, but…” She trailed off, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I think I was upset because you didn’t give us a good ending, or something like that.”

His smile flinched for a second. “No, I didn’t.” He sat up taller. “But enough about me. What about you two? Are you still getting into any trouble, these days?”

“Us? Trouble?” the princess replied. “No. Not really.” She forked a morsel of smoked salmon over to the side of her plate. “Not in a while.”

The two sisters exchanged a long look at this, and the elder coughed to break it. “Not for a long time,” she agreed, and took another sip of water. She shot the prince a dark look. “We can’t afford to get into trouble.”

“Well, Elsa can’t, anyway, now that she’s queen. Me, on the other hand? I do all sorts of crazy stuff,” her sister said in a conspiratorial way, smirking. She added in just above a whisper: “I just do it behind the scenes, you know? So it’s not obvious.”

“Right,” said her older sister, her blonde brow rising. “It’s not obvious at all when you’re riding a bicycle in the hallway, whooping as you go.”

“Okay, well, a little obvious.”

The two shared a genuine laugh at this, which lasted until the queen remembered the presence of a third party at the table. She cleaned her lips self-consciously with a delicate dab from her napkin, and when she looked up, she noticed him staring at her.

Her face flushed. “I should be going now,” she said suddenly, “as I have some work to attend to.” She forced her head to turn towards her sister. “And I believe you have a meeting with the French ambassador and his party starting in a few minutes, don’t you?”

The princess slid down in her chair with a groan. “I forgot about that,” she sighed. “Can’t we take the day off? Your coronation was only yesterday, and—”

“No, Anna, we can’t,” she cut in with a stern tone, though her skin was still tinged red, feeling his eyes on her. “And besides,” she continued, “it’ll be an opportunity to put your French lessons to good use. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“I guess,” her sister muttered, crossing her arms and sliding down the chair further. “If I have to.”

The queen held in a chuckle, her attention finally returning to the prince. “And you…” she paused, uneasy.

He glanced down at the napkin on the table next to her plate, and then back up at her. “I’ll find some way to occupy myself, I’m sure,” he offered, smiling in the same, unnerving way he had all morning. “Should you deign to have me at another meal, I would be honored to join.”

“The library,” she said suddenly, wearing a thin smile. “We have an extensive collection; I think you might like it in there.” After a beat, she explained: “If I recall, you were quite the bookworm when we were children.”

He nodded, a little taken aback. “Yes, and still am,” he said. “I’ll go there, then. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She did not like his manners –the overtness of his looks, the presumption of another invitation to dinner, the use of her formal title – but, for her sister’s sake, she smiled and nodded as she rose from the table. The prince and princess followed, curtsying and bowing to her as she left.

As she reached and then ascended the staircase, her heart pounded so loudly in her ribcage that she could hear little else.

»» —— ««

The presence of the dignitaries at court meant that the queen could not avoid in-person meetings as before, and her morning was soon occupied by one foreign sycophant after the other. Each was more eager than the last to make an impression on the mysterious young queen, with more than one unsubtle mention of marriage prospects and suitable candidates.

Forced to endure their suggestions, she was at pains to smile through the conversations, and often tried to change topics to trade, politics, architecture, or really anything else. She snuck a curious glance in the direction of the library whenever she got a chance, and her nose would wrinkle a little each time she did, remembering who was inside.

When the last meeting with the Spanish ambassador had drawn to a close – she ended it early after the words “Prince Diego, a fine young man” had left his lips – she took a small lunch in her bedroom and walked directly to her guest’s place of temporary exile, finding that her feet were leading her there before her head could protest.

She was unsurprised to find her sister with the prince, sitting at a table with a large book of maps open between them. He pointed at locations while the princess commented between bites of her sandwich; his handkerchief being empty, the queen surmised that he had eaten his already.

“Ahem,” she said to announce her entrance, and the prince leapt up from his seat, bowing.

Her sister merely waved, gesturing for her to come over with a mouth full of food. “Elsa! Come and look at this. Hans has been showing me where he’s traveled with the Navy.”

She frowned a little as she approached them. “You know you’re not supposed to eat in here,” she scolded.

“Sorry,” the princess apologized, grinning sheepishly, and stuffed the remainder of the sandwich in her face.

This earned her an eye-roll from the queen, who nonetheless took a seat next to her, staring at the prince with feigned interest. “So you’ve traveled,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling as he took his seat. He smoothed his bare hands out over the pages, pointing at the North Sea. “I was just telling the princess about my last trip to Scotland on duty, some years ago. We were out on a naval exercise and got caught in a bad storm with crazy winds. I was lucky to—”

He paused when he noticed that both sisters looked uncomfortable at his tale, their gazes turned down. Realizing his faux pas, he sat back with an embarrassed look. “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine,” the queen snapped, eyeing her sister with some worry. When the princess nodded back, she repeated in a calmer way: “It’s fine. You were saying?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “it wasn’t a good story, anyway.”

A silence settled upon the group until the princess broke it, remarking: “But his other trips sounded wonderful! He mentioned one to France, where he stayed out so late he missed his cleaning duties the next morning on the ship.”

She giggled, and he chuckled in return. “It wasn’t funny at the time, when I was sure I’d be whipped,” he commented, “but I was able to squeeze out of that scrape, fortunately.”

The queen smiled. “It’s good to be a prince, isn’t it?” she remarked, a hint of smugness in her tone. At his furrowed brow, she peeked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room behind him. Seeing the time, her eyes lifted. “Oh, Anna,” she said to her sister, “isn’t it time for your music lesson?”

The princess blinked, following the queen’s eyes to the clock, and then sighed. “Yeah, it is,” she admitted, dragging herself up from the table with a frown. She patted down her dress, and looked at her older sister with pleading eyes. “Can this be the last of it today? I told Hans we could have tea together later.”

She inhaled, and then relented. “Fine,” she agreed, then added more gently: “You’ve been very helpful these last few weeks, Anna. Thank you.”

The princess beamed at this praise, nodding. “Of course, Elsa. I just want to help where I can.”

The two sisters curtsied to one another, and just before the younger one left the room, she grinned at their guest. “I’ll see you later, Hans. But don’t you dare eat any of the chocolate eclairs without me!”

He smiled back at her. “I’ll try not to, Your Highness.”

She flashed him a suspicious look before finally exiting, and he laughed a little when the door closed after her, eyeing the queen with a curious stare. “Does she really have a lesson,” he asked, “or was that just an excuse to get her out of the room?”

She frowned. “She always has music lessons on Mondays at one. Not everyone has ulterior motives like you, Hans.” Her gaze narrowed at him before turning to the table, and she brushed off the remaining crumbs from her sister’s sandwich into her palm with a sigh. “She brought you lunch, I presume?”

He folded the handkerchief, calmly following her lead. “I thought I’d made my motives quite clear last night,” he replied, “and yes. She was kind enough to bring it to me.” After they had both finished cleaning the table, he shut the book and placed it under his arm, meeting her eyes with one raised eyebrow. “I’m surprised you haven’t sent me away yet.”

She gestured for him to lead them as he walked to the original location of the book, following him with a straight and stiff posture. “I wanted to, when I heard you were at breakfast with her, but…” She swallowed. “Then I saw how you two were getting along this morning, plus just now, and I—well, I couldn’t just throw you out of the castle in front of her.” Her frown returned. “But you knew that would happen, didn’t you?”

He paused in their travels to turn around and look at her, his smile cautious enough to invite suspicion, but not confirm it. “You really don’t trust me at all, do you?” he asked. “I can’t say I blame you; I haven’t really earned it yet.” He didn’t aver his eyes from hers. “I was prepared to leave this morning, but Anna insisted I join her. And, remembering that you wanted to tell her yourself that I was leaving, well…” He shrugged and turned back around, continuing his walk between the library’s endless, tall shelves. “I didn’t want to disobey your orders, Elsa.”

She stood stunned for a moment, and then stomped after him, her arms crossed. “How convenient for you,” she hissed as she caught up to him, and then added with a crinkled brow: “And where did you find that book? I haven’t seen it before.”

He stifled a laugh. “The stacks at the end,” he informed her. “Reminds me of the library at home.” He continued after a beat: “I spent a lot of time in there, growing up.”

In spite of her reservations, the queen replied: “I did too, in here.”

He peeked at her over his shoulder, tapping the volume under his arm. “Then I’m surprised you didn’t recognize this.”

She glared at him. “I haven’t read every book in here—just most of them,” she retorted. “Nautical maps weren’t exactly my favorite.”

They arrived at their destination a moment later, and he smiled at her as he slipped the book back into place. “Then what is it that the Queen of Arendelle likes to read?”

She reddened. “History of architecture, mostly,” she mumbled, her arms relaxing a little, “and fiction, from time to time. Everything else I read out of boredom, or because—”

“You were told to?” he finished, and she frowned. “Yes, I’m familiar with that kind of reading, too.”

Their gazes met in the pause that followed, and her cheeks grew redder upon realizing how closely they were standing to each other. “Anyway,” she began, stepping back from him, “I… I’m not going to ask you to leave. Not yet.”

He blinked. “Oh?”

She pursed her lips. “Not because I want you to stay, of course,” she continued. “It’s for Anna. She hasn’t had anyone to talk to in a long time outside of me, and I’m not exactly the most thrilling company.” The redness in her features had not abated, though her face softened as she admitted: “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while, and I don’t want to take that away from her.”

Before he could chime in, she continued: “She does seem taken with you, to be sure, but… knowing Anna, if she liked you in that way, she’d have told me so already, and probably in dramatic fashion.” Something in-between a smile and a cringe touched her expression. “Thankfully, that hasn’t happened yet, so I’m inclined to believe that the connection you two share is… innocent, for lack of a better word.” Her gaze was penetrating as she added: “And it must remain so.”

He bowed his head. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he assured her. “I’m just grateful to know that you’re starting to believe me when I say as much.”

Reminded of what he had told her the night prior, she sucked in a breath, her stare still wary. “Right,” she rejoined. “Because your designs are on me, not Anna.”

“‘Designs’ makes it sound so… villainous,” he remarked, sighing.

“Is that so?” she scoffed. “Then which term, exactly, would you prefer me to use?”

“Just…” he started, and then leaned his elbow against the shelf, his hand brushing against a divider. His gaze grew more focused on her. “Interest.”

“Interest,” she repeated. She glanced at his hand dangling a few feet away from her, his bare skin unnerving her again. “The kind of interest that leads you to sit on the throne, I presume.”

“It’s not about that,” he replied so quickly as to catch her off-guard. “You said it yourself last night: if I really wanted a crown and nothing else, I could’ve had that already.”

“Then what is it, Hans?” she asked. “What makes your ‘interest’ in me so different from all of that?”

He looked down at her crossed arms, and she followed his stare; when she realized the meaning in it, her skin flushed anew, and she aligned her hands to her sides.

“You know, I thought it was strange, at first,” he began, cocking his head to the side, “how Anna never mentioned anything, in all our conversations over the last two days. I would’ve thought that she’d speak of nothing else, remembering how enthusiastic she was about it when we were children.” He stared at her in a thoughtful way. “Not to mention that shock of white hair she has now, which I can’t recall her having before.”

At her silence, he resumed his speech. “But then I remembered the news of how the castle in Arendelle had suddenly been closed off, and how, for years afterwards, no one had seen either of you in person. I thought at the time that it might’ve been related to what I saw here, as a boy, but I couldn’t be sure, and I…” He shifted in his stance. “Well, I had my own problems to deal with back then, and couldn’t spend as much time theorizing about it as I would’ve liked to.” He paused. “Talking to Anna, and then seeing you again, all those old ideas came back to me. I tried to bring it up with her in a roundabout way last night when we were in the gallery, after almost an hour of discussing our favorite kinds of sandwiches and chocolates, but she just gave me an odd look.”

She swallowed. “What did you ask her, exactly?”

“If you two were still building snowmen in there,” he answered, and her shoulders rose nearly to her ears. “She said, ‘how could we build them indoors?’ So I didn’t pry further.” He studied her red face and trembling hands. “I thought perhaps she was protecting you, but… given how chatty she is about everything else, I guessed that wasn’t it, either.”

His tone was calm but directed as he continued: “Then, I saw it at breakfast – when you were gripping your fork and knife – and when she didn’t even notice it, that confirmed for me that whatever is going on, I wasn’t going to find out from her.”

She bit her lip to keep it from quivering, but did not reply, staring at the ground.

“So I’ve been wondering, Elsa: what happened?”

She watched him take one step closer, and sucked in a breath, her head snapping up. Tears stung at her eyes. “I—” she started to say, but her reply was cut short by her own, erratic breathing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

His gaze softened. “It’s all right. You can tell me.”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he offered. “I might understand it better than you think.”

“How could you?” she shot back at him, a deep frown etching itself onto her lips. “You don’t know what it was like to be alone for all these years, to have to lie to your only sister, to not even be able to hug your own mother and father before they—”

She cut off her speech before she could finish, placing her face in her hands.

“Elsa.”

A familiar voice and a warm hand on her shoulder roused her from her misery, and she looked up, half-expecting to see her father again.

Instead, she was greeted by a pale-faced prince who held her steady with his hands on her arms, and when she had gathered her senses about her, she stepped back out of his grasp, faintly aware of the traces of snowflakes still stuck to her dress.

She passed a gloved hand over her face. “I hurt her, Hans,” she said in a small, quiet voice. “I hurt her.”

“How?”

Her hand dropped to her side, though she still would not look at him. “It happened a couple years after you visited,” she murmured. “I struck her in the head by accident while we were playing, and… everything changed, after that.” Her jaw tensed. “By some strange creature’s magic, she was made to forget what happened—not just on that night, but on all the other nights before. Anything related to my—”

She could not bring herself to say it, her voice coming out as a croak when she next spoke. “She thinks she was born with that streak of white hair.” She touched the spines of some of the books on the shelf next to them with shaking fingers. “She doesn’t know, because she doesn’t remember. But I do.”

He was quiet for a long while, venturing to speak only when the temperature had become more bearable. “It’s not just your powers that she doesn’t remember, Elsa.”

At his comment, she finally looked at him, bemused. “What do you mean?”

He brushed a snowflake from his shoulder, and watched it melt in the air before looking back at her.

“If she was made to forget who you were,” he replied, “then how can she know who you are, now?”

[phoenixdaneko]

Amnesia. (Amnesiac Nix Story (Possible AU?))

@jackalclot here it be, your daily dose of angst

~~~~~~~

Today had been a normal day, a day like any other.

Emphasis on had.

Phoenix Grim, a hero in training, was walking towards her dorm at UA, after she had headed back to Aizawa's house, having dinner with her dads and her younger sister Eri. She had left around 8, and as she walked, the sky got darker and darker. She wasn't worried, she had her provisional hero license, so she could use her quirks if needed.

However, she never made it back to her dorm that night.

At first, her friends assumed she had stayed the night with her father, as she mentioned it offhandedly to them that she was going to visit him.

Except she wasn't in class the next day.

And then a day turned into a week. A week turned into two. Two weeks turned into a month, and there was no sign of the girl. Aizawa was looking more stressed, Mic was less peppy, Bakugou and Kirishima seemed drained, Shouto and Hitoshi were even quieter than normal, and even Izuku couldn't find the energy to be hopeful.

There was no sign of the girl. Her phone had been found in Hosu, completely destroyed. The only hope for a lead, gone. Underground heros were searching during their patrols, hoping for anything that could help. But hope could only get a person so far.

~~~~~~~

Another week had passed, and everyone's hope was dwindling.

Bakugou walked out of the school alone, heading back towards the dorms after he had stayed late to train, hoping the intense workout would distract him from the fact that one of his best friends could be dead.

As he neared the dorms, he stopped in his tracks. There was someone, or something laying there. Friend or foe was unknown, he had to be smart about this. Pulling his phone out, he dialed Aizawa Sensei. After the summer camp incident, she was there too, he'd been given his teachers number.

"Bakugou... What is it?" The tired males voice rang through the speakers, concerned, as the usually independent student had contacted him.

"As much as I hate asking for help, there's something laying right in the entrance to the dorms. I don't know what it is, but it looks humanoid." He spoke, making sure to keep his eye on the thing.

"Alright. Go back inside the school, I'll handle it." The blonde made a noise of agreement and walked back to the school as he hung up the phone.

Aizawa walked outside to the dorms, capture weapon at the ready, but as he got closer to the lump, his hands frantically flew to his pockets, dialing 119¹. As the line connected, he carefully rolled the lump onto their back.

Blood stained her skin, winding through her hair and soaking her clothes. He could barely recognize his adoptive daughter's face through all the injuries and blood.

"Emergency services, what's your emergency?" The voice crackled through his phone, startling him out of his inspection.

"I-- I need an ambulance to- to UA, please. My- My daughter is, she's, she's bleeding out, she's unconscious, I-- I don't know how bad her injuries are...!" He frantically spoke, crisis training failing him as he stared at the child he raised for 11 years.

"Alright sir, an ambulance is on its way. Can I get your name please?" The operator spoke calmly, typing in the background.

"Aizawa... Aizawa Shota." He spoke, not noticing the rain that began to pelt his skin until his clothes plastered against him, hair falling down around his face.

"Alright sir, I need you to stay on the line until the ambulance arrives, can you do that?" The operator's voice was soft, and Aizawa nodded before remembering he was on the phone.

"Y-yes, I can. I-- I can see the lights." He spoke, picking the broken girl up, sprinting towards the gates, phone crashing against the concrete.

"Sir..? Sir?"

~~~~~~~

Tired eyes slowly opened to blinding white. For a second, Phoenix thought she had died. Blinking, the room came into focus around her. She turned her head to the side slowly as her hand twitched, and she slowly, painfully lifted her arm, pressing the call nurse button, her arm falling back to her side.

Nurses soon rushed in, shocked to see the girl awake. They quickly got to work on sitting her up comfortably in bed, one nurse helping her drink a cup of water.

"Alright, honey, you've got a visitor, but remember, no talking." The nurse reviewed her rules for the third time, and the girl nodded tiredly. Finally, she let the visitor in, and a tear slipped from her eye as she saw him.

"Nix. You're ok. You're alive." The normally serious, stoic Eraserhead rushed over, gently gathering her in a hug before pulling away.

"Do you know who I am? They said you... You lost your memory. Parts of it." The girl stared at him, and he began to think she had forgotten him.

But slowly, shakily, she lifted up her hands, doing the sign language for dad. He smiled, squeezing her hands gently.

"Good. Are you hungry? You haven't been awake to eat anything..." The male spoke softly, and the girl nodded.

"Alright, let me ask for a wheelchair." He patted her head, walking to the hall, flagging down a nurse, who quickly brought him a wheelchair. He helped the girl in with help from the nurse, and wheeled her out of her room. She still had an IV attached, hanging from a post attached to the wheelchair. She let her eyes wander as she was pushed through the halls, cold air brushing against her mostly bare legs.

Her injuries had been horrible. A fractured ankle, 3 broken ribs and multiple bruised organs, lacerations across her whole body, and a previously infected stitch pattern across her cheeks and lips. The stitch pattern was now just a series of indents across the lower half of her face.

The worst injury, however, was the handprint branded into her throat. Unknown if it was her hand or another that inflicted the burn, the mark was a sight.

As they arrived in the cafeteria, she came back to her present situation. Aizawa brung her a tray of food, setting it on the table in front of her.

The female took a bite, looking to Aizawa slowly.

'Why can't I speak?' She signed out slowly, and Aizawa winced.

"Your throat had... Severe damage. If you try to speak, you might end up tearing your vocal cords completely." He spoke softly, refusing to meet the girls gaze.

The girl huffed, tapping the table and signing again. 'Can I leave? Go back to... U...'. Her hands faltered as she struggled to remember the name of her school.

"UA. And yes... You can leave tomorrow as long as your tests today go well." He spoke, gently squeezing the dejected girls hand.

She slowly nodded, slowly signing again. 'Are Papa and Eri alright?' The black haired man nodded, worried as to why she felt the need to ask.

She smiled slightly, wincing as the motion pulled at the healing wounds in her face, and the smile quickly dropped.

After she had painstakingly eaten, Aizawa brought her back to her room, pushing her hair back from her face as she laid on her bed.

"I'll be back to pick you up tommorow morning." He spoke softly, patting the girl's head, squeezing her hand gently before being called to leave.

The girl felt her eyes drift closed, and she hoped this night would go quick.

~~~~~~~

The next day, the girl was walking, with the help of crutches and a metal brace on her fractured ankle. Walking next to Aizawa, she climbed into his car with his help, pushing her crutches next to her on the floor. He climbed into the drivers seat, quickly driving towards UA.

As they approached the school, the girl stared outside, grabbing her crutches as they parked, waiting as Aizawa opened the door and took her crutches, slowly getting out.

The two walked into the school, and the two approached 1-A's classroom. Aizawa slid the door open, and the girl hobbled in.

The class was silent as she waved, and then they weren't.

"Phoenix?!"

~~~~~~~

¹- 119 is the emergency services number in Japan.

[heartau]

yuta + vampire au?

hello hello! i’ll be writing this in bullet point form because ive got really bad writers block :( !!

warnings: smut, various mentions of explicit gore, mentions of death and one mention of suicidal tendencies (not romanticizing though bc thats gross!)

work title: flame

being alive for more than a century can take quite it’s toll on you, even more so if you’ve spent the last 300-something years mourning over the death of a partner who carried half of your heart’s soul within them.

the scene has been iterating constantly in nakamoto yuta’s mind ever since the scene had occurred in front of him, in the middle of a battlefield, the year 1784.

the first vampire war, just a few years after he was first turned into one of them; a monster.

it was mortifying to him, the lack of bloodshed that stained the fields juxtaposed the mountain of beheaded bodies that eclipsed disarrayed towers.

tableaus of his lover’s head being sliced from their neck with just the flick of a specific blade, the killer’s face, of whomst housed flames in her eyes laughing as if it were a victory, flash in his mind before he shakes his head to rid of the frightening memories, focused on balancing himself atop the rooftop of his apartment building.

it’s the year 2019 and he lets out a sigh into the cool march air as he watches the cars and people littering streets below him continue on about their evening.

even if he were to jump, he’d only survive - vampires are cursed with immortality, no matter what they were to do to achieve the afterlife, they’ll only wake up alive and their bodies regenerated, as if nothing ever happened to it.

they stay in the same form since the moment they were bit.

“greetings, your highness,” his roommate’s voice causes him to turn towards his direction. “i have acquired some devastating information to bear.”

“stop talking like that, taeyong,” yuta mutters, swinging his legs over the ledge. “it’s 2019, people are gonna think you’re a weirdo.”

when the vampire war of 1784 came to its conclusion, yuta was victor, having savaged the remaining humans after watching his lover’s beheading; thus, he was brought to reign.

and he’s been reigning ever since.

reigning over what, exactly? who knows.

taeyong, his royal messenger (now, technically, one of his roommates), is one of the only vampires that he knows of these days.

“your highness,” taeyong cocks his head to the side. “i’m afraid i do not comprehend what you mean.”

yuta lets out a sigh. “never mind,” he mutters. “what’s the news?”

“i’m sure you are familiar with the blade of bloodlust?” taeyong says, and a jolt of pain goes through yuta at the mention of the weapon that was used to kill his lover. “it’s been stolen.”

“what do you mean?” asks yuta, furrowing his brows.

“it’s been stolen.” taeyong repeats.

“yes, i heard you the first time,” yuta lets out another sigh. “what do you mean it’s been stolen? isn’t it under heavy guard at the historical archives?”

he recalls the two muscular vampires who stood guard at the iron doors that housed the blade - surely no one can get past them both, with their burly arms and tall statures.

“it was, yes,” taeyong lets out a sigh as he pushes up the thin-lensed glasses perched atop his nose. “but upon visiting with doyoung this morning for further inquiries, we had found the bodies of both jung jaehyun and suh johnny. both bodies beared no head.”

yuta stood up from the cement ledge with widened eyes - if his heart were still beating, it would be thumping at a million miles per second at hearing this.

“so what you’re telling me is…” yuta’s voice is shaking.

he had rid of all the humans capable of holding that blade in 1784 by tearing them apart limb to limb and painting the cobblestone streets with their velvet ichor, bent upon mutilating them to the best of his abilities after what they had done to his lover.

there’s no way that a vampire hunter would still exist in the year 2019.

taeyong nods once. “a vampire hunter has been reborn, your highness.”

later that night, after discussing more on the matter with taeyong and doyoung, his royal strategist, he couldn’t bare to keep himself within the walls of his apartment.

the blood bags that he kept in the dodgy refrigerator in the kitchen were all gone, thanks to the recently turned teenager named mark lee, whom doyoung had bitten out of spite after the teen successfully tripped him as a dare by his friends.

“maybe if you calmed down a bit, we wouldn’t be out of our only life source right now, doyoung.” yuta scolds his strategist, who only rolls his eyes in response.

once upon a time, the man used to heed yuta’s word; the title of king was still a blessing those days. nowadays, as they settle into modernized settings, it would be a rare morning to hear the words “king” slip from doyoung’s lips.

“yeah,” mark says from the corner of the run down apartment. “what he said.”

“do you want me to go get some more food or something? i’ll break into a farm if that’s what you want. animal blood is just the same.” doyoung says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“no,” yuta sighs, slamming the door of the refrigerator closed. “i want you and taeyong and mark to stay here. there’s a vampire hunter on the loose and the three of you could survive against one.”

“and what are you gonna do?” doyoung quirks an eyebrow. “kill a random person on the street? what if they’ve got a family to come back to?”

“which is why i’ll find a criminal or something,” yuta mutters. “stop talking to me like that, doyoung. i’m your king, remember that.”

“right,” doyoung says. “king of the last ten vampires roaming the earth.”

yuta rolls his eyes before slamming the door closed, pulling on his suede jacket as he walks down the halls of the apartment complex.

they reside in the dodgy part of the city, so finding a criminal to bring home as food will be an easy task.

yuta walks the cool streets with his hands buried in the pockets of his suede jacket, eyeing every person who passes him by.

a group of giggling women, obviously having just left the bar down the street - harmless. yuta continues to walk.

a man standing on the stairs leading into an apartment complex, holding flowers behind his back, probably picking up his date - also harmless. yuta continues to walk.

a group of highschool boys cackling as they dash down the cemented streets, probably up to no good - a bit questionable, but they were all just highschool boys, so harmless. yuta continues to walk.

yuta continues to walk until he reaches the edge of the town, the rich skyscrapers of the high end districts letting him heave a sigh before pivoting on his heel to go back to his apartment and to let doyoung break into a farm.

but before he’s able to give doyoung the greenlight, he hears whimpering deriving from deep within a dark alley way.

the sound causes him to perk up, effortlessly stealthy when he walks to where he hears the sound.

“please,” he hears a shaking voice. “if you wanna rob me then go for it, just, please, don’t take my necklace.”

he looks around the corner and sees a tall, burly man dressed in all black cornering a sobbing girl, you, holding your purse in front of your body. from the looks of your outfit, you must have also just left from the bar down the street - but as yuta sniffs that air, he smells no alcohol coming from you.

“crying’s not gonna do anything, lady,” the robber gruffs. “give me your fucking necklace or else i’ll take it off your neck after i blast your head off.”

that sentence lets another sob wreak through you as you fall to your knees, clutching your bag tightly. “please, this necklace is special to me.”

“and? i don’t give a shit.” the robbers mutters, digging for something in his back pocket. the lights coming from the entrance of the alleyway reveals the outline of a gun. “i don’t got time for this, bitch making me wa-”

his sentence is cut off by silence, you hear the dull engine of a car passing by just down the alley way. you open your eyes, expecting to look down the barrel of a gun, only to see a different man standing in front of you.

“are you okay?” the voice is gentle and velvet when you hear it, looking up to see a kind face peering down at you. his hand was outstretched, offering to help you up.

“where did he go?” you question him.

“who?” his voice sounds slightly dejected, but still remains kind.

you take his hand hesitantly as he helps you up to your feet, heels wobbly as you find your balance. you rack your mind for words to say, but you can’t seem to find the correct ones for your situation.

“you should get home,” the man gives you a therapeutic smile. “it’s a strange town, it’s unsafe this time of night.”

you stare at him for a few seconds more, truly unable to form words, and you nod tightly. “but wait.” a beat. you search his eyes, they seemed to be glowing with a red flame. “who are you?”

but before the sentence escapes your lips, the man is gone.

that night, you went home with shaking hands and the lingering memory of the man with the burning flame in his eyes.

“taeyong,” yuta asks as he take a swig of his blood-filled cup.

the four of them, yuta, doyoung, taeyong and mark, are seated on the floor of the rundown apartment, feasting on the blood of the criminal that yuta had taken down.

taeyong turns his head towards him, setting his own glass down on the coffee table. “can mates be reborn?”

taeyong cocks his head to the side. “what are you inquiring, your highness?”

“i met a woman tonight,” yuta toys with the edge of his glass cup. “when i looked into her eyes, they held… a familiar fire.”

taeyong grows silent for a second as if he were pondering.

“your highness, there is a first time for everything.”

the next time yuta encounters you, it is during his day job as a barista at a local cafe.

(someone has to pay the bills; taeyong would freak out customers with his medieval speak, doyoung would quit after one squabble with a customer, and mark is still too recently-born to control his bloodlust.)

“hey, you’re the-” “can i take your order, miss?”

your eyes make their way to his nametag: yuta.

“yes, yuta,” you say, sharpening your eyes at him. “i’d like one tall iced caramel macchiato, and i would also like to speak to you when your shift is over.”

when yuta’s shift ends, your cup is already empty, finding solace in the screen of your phone. “you wanted to talk?” yuta asks, pulling up a seat next to you.

you waste no time. “who are you?”

“huh?”

“who are you? how did you know i was in trouble last night? where did that man go? he seemed to disappear into thin air.”

yuta lets out a sigh as he leans onto his elbows on the wooden table in front of you. his eyes are searching into yours, a wry smile taking over his face. for a second, even you felt a little inferior underneath his gaze but you quickly snap back to your usual gait.

“are you going to answer me or are you just gonna smile at me like that?”

“actually,” yuta says. “go on a date with me, and then i’ll tell you what happened.”

you roll your eyes. “and how do i know you’re not planning to do whatever you did with that guy to me?”

a grin stretches on his face. “i’ll take you out someplace where a lot of people are,” he says before putting his hand on top of yours. an electric spark seemed to erupt from your touch which caused his smile to widen. “trust me.”

and he did just that.

you and yuta’s first date took place at an amusement park - at first it started off with you nagging for him to tell you what really happened during the incident but you soon forgot about the entire incident the moment you screamed at the top of your lungs when the rollercoaster dropped. you spent the rest of the date clinging onto him as he dragged you from ride to ride and winning you multiple toys.

after, he took you back home and you promised to let him take you out again.

you and yuta’s second date took place at a simple 80’s themed diner, in one of the better spots of your town. as the neon lights flicked onto yuta’s skin and seemed to set his eyes even more ablaze, you sipped on your strawberry milkshake as you listened to him ramble about the daily occurrences he has to face.

you quickly forgot the reason why you even began to let yuta take you out when he kissed you on your doorstep, that night.

“your highness,” taeyong knocks on yuta’s door, one night, a few months later. “doyoung and i would like to speak with you about something.”

yuta turns his gaze from the book he was reading to his royal servants, one of whom remained loyal to him all these years. “yeah, come in?”

taeyong walks in, standing opposite to taeyong while doyoung lazily sits on yuta’s bed, crossing his legs. they both stay quiet for a while, and yuta furrows his brows confusedly.

“what is it?”

“i’m sure that you’ve noticed that mark hasn’t been coming out of his room for the past few months,” doyoung says, raising an eyebrow. “any reason?”

yuta ponders for a moment and then shakes his head. “no?”

“your highness,” taeyong sighs. “you’ve been arriving home with the stench of human blood for the past months. it’s absolute torture for the young boy. he’s just turned recently, so his senses are heightened.”

yuta closes his book. “he was turned a year ago, he should be fine by now,” yuta mutters, already deciding to dislike the topic of conversation. “why, do you guys have a problem with it too?”

“if you’ve got a blood bank, share it with us,” doyoung says, matter-of-factly. “i know you’ve been going out to get your share of blood, and the scent is fucking delicious, and we need it.”

yuta scoffs. “i don’t have a blood bank, doyoung,” he says. “although i don’t know why you’re acting as if i’d share it with you. maybe if you continued to be loya-”

“there you go again with your loyal shit,” doyoung groans. “there are only a few more vampires left on this earth and you’ve barely done anything to track down the hunter that’s been on the loose for the past few months. last i heard, qian kun and his coven were wiped out in beijing just last week. why would i be loyal to you if you haven’t been loyal to us? arent you supposed to be our king?”

“doyoung,” taeyong sighs. “that’s enough.”

“doyoung,” yuta stands up, towering over doyoung. “i tore apart every single vampire hunter with my own two hands, to the point where their existence were wiped out for more than a century. if it wasnt for me, your corpse would be buried in the ground without a head.”

doyoung stands. “you tore them apart nearly a century ago,” his voice grows louder. “you tore them apart a century ago and thats the only thing you’ve got underneath your belt to remain king but guess what!? there’s a new hunter! and they haven’t been killed yet! and if they fucking find us, yuta, the existence of vampires will be gone.”

“maybe that’s what should be,” yuta mutters. “we’re monsters.”

“are you saying you’d rather be human scum than to be immortal?” doyoung widens his eyes. “that you’d let a fucking vampire hunter win over your own kind?”

“doyoung, that’s enough.” taeyong stands in front of doyoung before the jet-black haired man could say anything more. “your highness. whoever the person you’ve been meeting is, they’re not worthy of your admiration. i beg of you to end it now before our coven is in danger.”

when yuta shows up on your doorstep, the flame behind his irises seem to burn deeper than how they usually do.

“oh, hey babe,” you say, as you let him in. your apartment was in disarray, clothes strewn everywhere. “sorry for the mess, i was just unpacking my stuff from my trip to ch-”

“i need you.” yuta nearly growls, backing you into the wall. your jaw becomes slack as you widen your eyes when your back meets the wall, his lips coming into contact with yours in a flurry of desperation.

when he pulls away for air, he’s panting, pressing his forehead against yours.

“babe, what’s gotten into you?” you ask him, half amused, half turned on.

“i just miss you a lot,” he says, peppering your neck with kisses. “i was lonely here while you were having fun abroad.”

you let out a moan when you feel him nip at one specific spot in the crook of your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to lightly sooth the pain. “well, you’re not lonely now.”

sex with yuta is not only physically draining, but emotionally as well - each time you find yourself entangled in your bedsheets with him, he’d let out all the emotions that he’d been facing the past few days, as if he were yearning for a clean slate at the end of it.

and while he lets out those emotions, he ends up being needy, which makes him rough - even while he kisses you tenderly, you can’t help but scream every time his hips snap back into yours.

even now, while you hover above him, arching your back as you letting out screams of pleasure while he thrusts his cock inside of you again and again from underneath, watching your face contorted in bliss although you’re sure that your neighbours have grown sick of hearing the two of you at times like these.

he pulls you back down towards him, hands fumbling when he flips the two of you over as he continues to rut into your hips while he cups your face to kiss you in an effort to mute your moans, but even then, knowing how far you break just because of what he does to you fuels his ego.

“you gonna cum baby?” yuta growls, pinning your hands down to your side as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head. “you gonna cum from my cock?”

“fuck, yes, yuta!” you mewl, voice broken and hoarse from screaming all night. “keep going, k-keep going.”

you feel his cock reaching deeper and deeper inside of you as if he were planning to leave a mark within you, your bed beginning to move with his hips as it squeaks with every thrust. a few more ruts and you feel the familiar knot appearing in the pit of your stomach, your walls tightening around him as you feel the burning need to scream his name form in your throat once more.

“yuta!” you scream, unable to grasp at anything for support due to his hands pinning your entire body down, the feeling inside of you grows more intense. “i’m gonna cum! i’m gonna fucking cum!”

“cum for me baby,” he mutters, hips snapping in and out of you. “cum for me and scream my name. tell your neighbours who owns this dirty little cunt. tell your neighbours who fucks you so good.”

and you do, back arching off your mattress as you cum, lewd words stringed with his name escaping past your lips. the sight alone is enough to push yuta over the edge as well, littering your stomach with white as he pumps himself onto you.

for the next few seconds, you lay in bed in order to recollect yourself as well as to let the numbness slow down between your legs. yuta, however, pulls the sheets over him before he drops his legs to the floor, now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“yuta,” you grab his hand. “come lay with me.”

he stays silent for a while, and you hear him gulp. “(y/n), i have to tell you something.”

you furrow your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue, pulling the sheets over your naked body.

“i,” he stammers. “i can’t keep lying to you.”

“what do you mean?”

“when we first met, that man who tried to attack you,” he whispers. “i… i did something to him.”

there is a beat in the air before he keeps talking.

“i heard you crying, and so i went there, and i saw you and… you just felt so familiar to me.  and i had to save you, so i killed that man and,”

he puts his face in his hands.

“(y/n), i’m a monster. i’m a monster and you shouldn’t love me.”

“why, yuta?” you whisper as you sit up to move closer to him.

“because, that man… i killed him and drank his blood,” his whispers. “(y/n),”

“yes, yuta?” you get up off the bed.

“i’m a vampire.”

the air between the both of you is silent for only a second, yuta screwing his eyes shut as he braces the impact of you possibly not believing him and laughing in his face, or of you screaming in fear before begging him to leave your house and to never see him again.

he fears for the worst, hoping that whatever happens, the least hurtful comes to truth.

but while his eyes are screwed shut, he does not hear you at all - he does not smell you, he does not feel your presence.

he only opens his eyes when he feels the cool, sharp metal against the skin of his neck. he gasps when his eyes meet yours - the same flames burning in your irises, but now they burn clearer.

you never housed the eyes of his lover.

you housed the eyes of his lover’s killer.

you smile at him sweetly while you press the blade of bloodlust against his skin.

“your highness,” you whisper. “it’s nice to see you again.”

[megalony]

Sweetheart- Part 11

Another part of my latest bodyguard! Ben Hardy fic which I hope everyone is enjoying so far. This is some fluff after all the angst I’ve been writing.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction

Series taglist: @anikatcmh @sillyscissorsnerdsoul

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Running a hand through her slightly knotted hair, (Y/n) brushed it from her features as she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Relishing in the numbness that had been coursing through her since last night. It felt so much better to feel nothing at all like this than to feel every nerve splitting at once.

She had felt more awake last night and earlier this morning as her system got used to the morphine that had knocked her out. Now she was beginning to get fidgety waiting for Ben to come back. He had gone back to the flat this morning but said he wouldn't be long. She was waiting for him to come back in so they could go and see Goldie bit (Y/n) was beginning to get the urge to just go and find Goldie on her own. She was desperate because it had almost been a full day since Goldie was born and she was still yet to set her eyes onto the newborn.

Tipping her head down, (Y/n) dared to pull up the hem of her shirt to reveal her stitches. (Y/n) hadn't seen the extent of the stitches nor had she seen the bruises that had felt so bad last night. She had seen the cuts and beginnings of bruises on her knuckles of her right hand from where she had done her best to punch John and they weren't nearly as bad as they had seemed yesterday.

Pulling up her shirt, (Y/n) tilted her head down to look at her stomach, her breath becoming trapped in her lungs at the sight she was faced with. There was a cut in her skin going from one hip to the other which was tied together with little individual black stitches. Her skin was blotched with patches of red around the stitches but her lower stomach and right side were worse. It was like an array of colours splashed onto her skin, there were different shades of crimson ranging from light to angry fire red. There were beginnings of deep purple and some that looked lighter and faded into blue. They stretched across her lower stomach near the stitches and crept up her right side around her lower ribs.

(Y/n) wasn't sure how long she seemed to have been mesmerised by the array of colours tainting her like bad memories plaguing her mind but they seemed entrancing. They stole her attention and made her feel shivers at the reasons why they were there.

She had bruises because her brother thought she deserved them and somehow, maybe she did because she had brought about the trial in the first place. He hurt her because he wanted to show her where her place was in the family and in society. She was beneath them and she had to know that she was meant to bow down to their demands. But they had hurt her when she had already accepted this, they had hurt her for no reason and they had put Goldie in danger because they thought it was fun.

She had a scar littering her stomach because Goldie had been in danger and needed saving. It was there to show that the pain had been excruciating and it had made everything worse.

(Y/n) couldn't let them get away with what they had done to Goldie because it wasn't fair. Her brother didn't care. He would have still hurt them both if (Y/n) had proof that she wasn't going to trial. If she had signed the papers she would still have gotten kicked and pushed around. She would still have gone into labour early because she held the power.

Her brother was simply trying to steal back that power because it would destroy him if it was not in his hands. How could (Y/n) give it back to him now?

Tilting her head up quickly, (Y/n) locked eyes with Ben as she let go of her shirt so it fell down again. Her jaw jutting forward and back as her teeth scraped together, her eyes drifting down to her hands. The marks on her skin just made it real, they made it feel worse and showed what her family was capable of doing to try and preserve themselves and their lives.

"Does it hurt?" Ben questioned quietly as he walked into the room, his head nodding towards her stomach. He only caught a glimpse of the damage but it looked like it would be a killer if she were not on the morphine but that didn't mean she didn't feel some pain.

"No, don't feel anything." The small smile on her lips showed Ben that it was a good thing that everything felt numb and like she was floating.

He nodded back, a look of relief on his features because he wouldn't know what to do if she said it did hurt. They couldn't give her any more medication than she was on already and he was only able to hold her and talk to her which yesterday proved wasn't the best remedy for physical pain. He perched himself down on the side of the bed as (Y/n) slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, turning her head to look at him.

"Can we go see her now?"

Ben couldn't help but smile because he knew it wasn't really a question or request, it was more of a sugar-coated demand. (Y/n) wasn't waiting any longer because she wasn't drifting in and out of consciousness now, she was awake and rearing to see what their girl looked like. To see how pretty she was, how small she looked and check she was really okay.

"Of course. Are you okay to walk?" Pushing himself to his feet, Ben turned so he was standing in front of her. Holding his hands out for her to take so he could help her stand to her feet. (Y/n) didn't know if walking was going to make her feel unsettled or hurt or disrupt her stitches or bruises but she was going to try. She really didn't want a wheelchair when she didn't need one, she wanted to see Goldie and no amount of discomfort was going to stop her. Nothing would compare to the pain she endured yesterday and that had made her pain tolerance increase.

(Y/n) had to admit that it felt weird.

She'd been getting used to the extra weight and the feeling that she was always leaning forward just that little bit more whilst pregnant but now the extra weight was lifted. She could stand straight and not feel the need to lean down or feel a building pressure.

There was a little discomfort as they walked out of the room like her stomach was still cut up and trying to patch itself back together again. The numbness made it feel uncomfortable but it wasn't pain, it was the discomfort that happened when your mouth was numbed at the dentist and it made your lips feel like they were swelling. Her stitches were discomforting when she pulled her stomach in when taking a sharp breath and her stomach somehow felt empty and loose but it wasn't painful and that was all (Y/n) cared about.

It was only a short walk down the corridor and then turning left onto the neo-natal part of the maternity ward.

Unravelling his arm from around her waist, Ben slipped his hand into her own as he guided her into a room on their left. He had been back and forth down these corridors all night and morning, he had this ward mapped out in his head to make sure he didn't get lost when switching between his girls. Weaving around the other incubators set up in the room, Ben felt (Y/n)'s head pressing into his arm as he guided her to the back of the room where Goldie was.

"Ready?" Ben whispered, thankful the other parents weren't visiting their newborn's yet. (Y/n) looked up at Ben, the debate on her features as she felt conflicted. She wanted to see Goldie so badly but at the same time, she felt swamped with a sense of sadness that they couldn't hold her. They couldn't cradle her in their arms or feed her because she was here too early.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) nodded, her eyes scanning around Ben as he tugged her over to one of the incubators. Letting go of her hand as he moved so he was standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders as he tipped his head down to kiss the top of her head.

"Here she is." (Y/n) almost didn't hear the words as her gaze became transfixed on the newborn.

Small was an understatement, she was tiny. She looked like she would break or fall to pieces if not handled with extreme care. Her nose was so small and slightly curved at the end, her ears were small, her eyes closed so (Y/n) couldn't tell what colour they were yet. Her hand didn't look too much bigger than (Y/n)'s finger as her hands were balled into small fists, one resting up by the side of her head.

There was a small tube taped to her nose which (Y/n) guessed was for oxygen, there were two circular stickers on her chest that looked like they were checking her heart. She had a tube in her stomach that was for food, an IV drip taped to her left elbow and the incubator was keeping her warm. It was a makeshift womb because she wasn't able to help herself yet.

"She will be okay, won't she?" (Y/n) couldn't tear her eyes away from Goldie who seemed to have captured her full attention without doing anything. She couldn't help but think that Goldie wasn't okay like this, she wasn't being fed in the proper way, she wasn't breathing on her own, she was stuck to wires and tubes that were doing everything for her and that showed she wasn't okay. She couldn't do anything for herself except move her limbs around. She obviously couldn't even produce much heat because the incubator was doing that for her too.

And she was so tiny.

"She's just over a month early, there are other babies here who were two months early and they're fine, sweetheart. There's nothing to say she won't be perfectly fine."

There were babies in this room that were miraculously smaller than Goldie was and there were others that were just fine after being born at seven months. Goldie had a big chance of being perfectly healthy because she was being helped and cared for. She wasn't struggling in any way, her lungs were small but she was being helped by the ventilator, she was taking food fine by the tube in her stomach and she wasn't ill or had any infections at all.

"They're going to give her steroids soon to try and make her lungs develop quicker so she can breathe on her own soon." Her lungs were a bit underdeveloped so they had decided to give her some steroids to improve their growth quicker so she would be able to breathe without the ventilator.

Ben pressed his lips to the top of her head again as his hands smoothed over her shoulders. His eyes focused on Goldie who looked to be fast asleep but she was moving every now and then, her arms moving to the sides a little as her head slowly turned to the side. He had watched over her most of last night whilst (Y/n) was asleep and it helped to calm down his mind because every time the nurse checked on her she was fine. She responded to the medication and the food and the ventilator. There were no signs to say she was ill, she was getting better.

Moving his hands, Ben wrapped his left arm gently around (Y/n)'s waist, taking her hand with his other. He let his fingers skim over the back of her hand, his fingertips grazing against her fingers as he gently moved her hand from resting on the incubator.

(Y/n) tilted her head up to look at him but he just tipped his head to look down at Goldie. Looking back at her, (Y/n) watched as Ben gently guided their hands into the circular opening in the incubator. Her breath became caught in her throat when Ben gently rested her hand over Goldie's before letting go, placing his own hand over Goldie's chest and stomach. Rubbing gently over her skin as he felt his heart calming down at the contact.

Biting her lip, (Y/n) tried to stop the shaking in her hand as she brushed her fingers over Goldie's cheek, almost choking when Goldie nudged her head into the touch as if she knew it was her mother. Ben pressed his chest into her back, leaning his head into her neck when tears started to fall from her eyes as Goldie's tiny fingers curled around her index finger. Adrenaline sparked to life in her system as she brushed her thumb over the back of Goldie's hand.

"Chocolate eyes." (Y/n) whispered quietly, a sense of wonder to her voice when Goldie finally opened her eyes that danced around in slow circles, adjusting to the light in the room.

Her eyes were a mix between light and brown, like chocolate being mixed with milk. They were very capturing but seconds later the colour disappeared again showing she was tired. There wasn't much for Goldie to do, she was being fed automatically the same as her breathing and she was only just born. She just had sleeping or crying as options and she must have been in shock when she was born.

"I want to hold her." (Y/n) moved her free hand, resting it over Ben's that was around her waist. Her arms now itching and shaking with the desire to reach out and take Goldie into her arms. She wanted to pick her up and see how she fit into her arms, it was clear she wouldn't even span the length of her arm and (Y/n) wondered how small she would look in Ben's arms. He had muscle and he was tall and built, she would look so fragile and tiny in his arms.

"It itches, doesn't it? Shaking to stop from picking her up." Ben spoke the words quietly as he continued to rub his hand over Goldie's stomach.

It was like a desire to just move everything from Goldie and pick her up, to cradle her close and just wish that skin on skin contact would heal everything that was wrong with her. To hope that they could just love her enough that she would be okay. But it wasn't going to work like that, they had to push back the desire and wait it out. To watch like a hawk until they were able to take her into their arms.

(Y/n) continued to brush her thumb over the back of Goldie's tiny hand that felt smooth as silk.

That desire to hold her was like fuel to a growing flame that was flickering and spreading inside (Y/n). It was taking over everything to the point she felt like she was being put under a trance. She wanted to hold her baby but she had been denied that wish because her brother had hurt them all. He thought it was okay to try and endanger and kill Goldie, he thought it was fine that he snatched the ability from both (Y/n) and Ben to hold their baby.

Her brother thought that it didn't matter that for the foreseeable future, the couple couldn't hold their baby which was what they desperately wanted. It was important to have that contact but all they got was to hold her hand because she was too ill. They couldn't have that contact with her and Goldie didn't know who they were, she could think they were just a stranger or a nurse trying to help her. She didn't know that they were her parents and that hurt more than anything.

There was no way that (Y/n) could let them get away with this because Goldie was stable now but that could change. Something could happen to Goldie at any minute, she could not respond well to the steroids, she could have some sort of reaction or take a turn for the worst. If anything were to happen to her (Y/n)'s heart would shatter. She had to get her brother back for what he had done.

She never signed the forms to withdraw her statement at the police station and she had never been more thankful for not doing something because she was going to trial the day after tomorrow. Her brother was not getting away with taking something from them because he could have taken so much more if yesterday had gone worse.

"You were right, she's beautiful." (Y/n) rubbed her hand against Goldie's cheek, realising that Ben had been right when he said she was beautiful, she was breathtaking. Which was why (Y/n) had to go to trial, her brother almost stole her beauty from them.

He couldn't get away with that.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Eden-6!!

I am. so fucking tired. but I’m also late asf for Eden-6 stuff to the point it got its video release, so here I am playing catch up.

tl;dr: swamp planet!! we get some cool shots of Alitair and Aurelia, i, surprise surprise, still do not trust mr. wainwright, i tried to form an argument that these ruins we see across the planet are abandoned Atlas facilities/ships, but ~who knows~. also i would (and probably will) die for the saurians. i love them so much. one of them has a funky bone hat. it’s great. also also “stop the CoV before they gain control” [looks at trailers and behind closed doors intro] ... uh oh gamers...

“A backwater swampland of a planet, and family home of the Jakobs clan. Eden-6 is covered by lush greenery and stagnant waters, dotted with occasional settlements and the rusted hulks of crashed spaceships. Civilization has never fully taken hold here, and indigenous dangers including ravenous Saurians and semi-sentient Jabbers effectively rule the planet. As if you didn't already have enough to worry about, the Children of the Vault have a presence here as well.”

im excited for the abandoned spaceships, those things look fucking bad. ass.

Ambermire I am guessing is one of the more swampy areas? Jakob’s Manor is obvious, and Fort Sunshine I’m guessing is that abandoned facility we’ve been seeing around the trailers. unfortunately we don’t get too good of a look at the fortress (shakes fist at gearbox) but we do get some other stuff!

im gonna go over the instagram video first because the pics are a treat so we’re saving them for last.

sorry for the progress bars btw lol

i fucking love that gas giant. so much.

swamps are one of my least favorite biomes, but i know gearbox is going to make me love it.

also a look at one of the crashed ships! (i assume) looks like Atlas to me. Or old Hyperion, but tbh idk why Hyperion would be on Eden-6. so Atlas it is.

a look at one of the settlements. i really love the contrast between this planet and Promethea and Athenas.

those gross pod things on the right? idk if they’re egg sacs or plants or what but i both hate them and love them. also whatever that is glowing on the bottom left. i wanna touchy

Jakobs manor!! honestly a lot less extravagant in the front than i was expecting. also now we know this one shot

is definitely not in front of Jakobs Manor. could be the back entrance or smth tho. looks like it leads into a garden-y area.

my question is, is it a Jakobs thing to enjoy hunting? because it seems like it’s a Jakobs thing to enjoy hunting. also i don’t trust Jakobs. I know I’ve said that, like, a bajillion times, but i don’t. and those metal cowboy-lookin’ robots are totally theirs.

im just surprised the Hammerlocks are living in the Manor. I assumed they were like... visiting. now im pretty convinced mr. wainwright down here is evil because only Alistair is on Sanc-III and we’re all assuming that the Sanc-III demo (not the more recent one) takes place after Athenas, right? 

and OMG YES lilith’s tattoos aren’t visible in the newest video on sanc-iii!! im hoping that means she gets her powers back!! im giddy to look over it 30 times i cannot wait. but one post at a time.

evil. evil man.

he either dies or he’s evil i don’t trust him and hammerlocks eye shouldn’t be red in the We Are Mayhem trailer i just... im so suspicious of this man.

AURELIA i love her so much. she was great in TPS, one of my mains. her new outfit is popping, i love the boots.

also she has 2 ice diadem shards now and im terrified yet oddly happy for her.

ALISTAIR. i legitimately thought he was on Promethea at first, then i realized this is probably part of the abandoned facility/fortress. shame we don’t get a closer look at it.

also look who’s eye is back to being not-red again!

also the writing on the back there makes me even more convinced this is Atlas facility. on Promethea, the parts of the Meridian city are labeled with these unique symbols (so far i’ve seen blue and red) and this red one looks like it fits the mark perfectly.

these look like the same canisters from the mine on Pandora. whatcha pumpin eden-6?

more red plants. i like how different this can look from athenas, yet still have very similar foliage. outstanding move, gearbox.

is that another crashed ship in the background??? yes pls. also this dude’s face paint is giving me huge Mask of Mayhem vibes, I love it.

the inside of Jakobs Manor

i hate to tell you this mr. gearbox sir but im pretty sure they do

yeesh. 

also that one scene of troy in the manor as well

dis one

is that the globe in the background? anyone know? im trying to remember where the fuck ive seen that shot of the library/globe. hmmmmmmmmmm

it is not the globe whump whump. i am excited to explore this library tho. 

what looks like fishing net on the right? wild

also car!!

no wings/fins like in the Mask of Mayhem trailer tho, that sucks.

i like this dude. especially his face paint.

i like this glowing crystals even more tho

purple crystals that mimic troy’s red ones? me likey.

eridium? maybe! slag to chug when u need more power? maybe! i don’t know!

j̷̧̭͙̹̭̀̽͆̕͘u̸̦͌̃͛̕̕s̴̡̰͙̣͊̂̔t̴͇̪͐ͅ ̸̭̐́w̵̧̯̲͊̀̃̄̕a̵̢͓̎́̏̓t̷̪̓̑̎͜c̶̢̢͔̀h̴̥̬̪̫̫̿ ̶̪̬̞̼͐̾̉͐̒ơ̵̼̋̍̓̕u̵̻̪̞̞̺̐̾̀̚͠t̶͉̠̟͉̪̋̈̿ ̶̢̗̗͑f̵̰̫͇̈̾ọ̴͑r̶̢͕̺͈͎̃̌͘ ̸̩͆̏̅a̸͈̙̪̋̏ǹ̷̮͚͍̽͜ģ̵̠̀̍̋̔r̴̪̦̾̇̕͠y̷̘͖̜̿͑̅̀ͅ ̷̬̱͉̗͌̇j̵̹͇̽͗̕ā̸̳͇͈̠̺b̴̰̏͜b̴̘͗̔e̷͖̓͊r̸͍̫̻̊͆̊s̸̛̙̳͔̗̋̓͝ 

also check that glowy light in the background. totally Atlas.

also also i like they have little hanging nest/house things. those are really cute.

this motherfucker is coming at us with a sledgehammer ffs

i like their tiger stripe designs. they blend in with the leaves, which i guess is an evolutionary advantage all things considered.

I LOVE THESE FUNKY LITTLE MOTHERFUCKERS

LOOK AT THIS DUDE!!! HE’S GOT A BONE HAT! I LOVE HIM!!!

AND THEY FUCKING BREATHE FIRE??

GLOWING YELLOW EYES!!!

A SPLIT JAW! WHO DOESN’T LOVE THESE LITTLE DUDES???

i fucking love Saurians holy shit

okay okay okay okay

picture time 😎

i love the skybox on Eden-6, holy shit it’s beautiful. also, those sacs/plants/fungi or whatever are definitely volatile.

look at that one glowing red one. that’s totally going to deal some fuckin fire damage to whatever touches it and i for one am ready

also.

can we get an F in chat for Eden-6? lmao i remember being like ‘oh look a gas giant’ in my analysis of every museum of mayhem piece and COMPLETELY FORGETTING that eden-6 has a gas giant directly beside it. big brain fart there.

holy shit i love the color schemes for these things. i know there are blue ones as well, but these orange/yellow/red ones are FANTASTIC. i especially love the shiny yellow ones. they’re so pretty!!

we also get a mostly obscured window in the back there

possibly part of the abandoned facility? but more than likely just part of a crashed ship.

like (im assuming) this one!

the doors match up to Sanctuary-III quite well. also the bones on the ground. i love the regrowth aesthetic they’ve got going on here.

also apparently ratches have made their home here. these things are fuckin everywhere. they’re like the new rakk holy shit

MY BEAUTIFUL BOYS

look at the one on the bottom right! those blue markings are fuckin stunning and i love the little fins on the sides of his head

and that giant skeleton in the background? that’s some good shit right there! im hoping those are fireflies/some sort of glowing insect around the front there. so we can have pockets of glowing orbs dancing around the map as we explore.

oooo

i really like the hulls of the ships, the one on the far left and the one in the back right.

im mostly interested in this tree. i wonder if it just regrew around some debris or if this is making the stuff on this planet grow wildly out of control. I’m always down for science gone wrong! and with atlas, pretty much anything could go horribly wrong. that’s just their way of doing things.

anyway it is 4 in the am and i am tired, so im gonna pass tf out now and hopefully do Fl4k’s trailer, and a few other posts i gotta catch up on, tomorrow! so hyped for fl4k info!!