#the only time they both *willingly* fought each other physically by the way :3

[calamari-minecraft-corner]

Okay so I need to talk about the idea I had (it’s a concept that’s heavily inspired by the newest Epic saga so it is bound to change but hehe) for the dnd con au:

Okay so at some point the party go to sea, whether on a mission or running away from someone they go to sea and Dream is essentially the captain since he has the most experience (Puffy taught him stuff)— so they basically grab a crew and go to sea to find what they’re loooing for!

Along the way they come across a big cavern and well, the party is interested and they go in.

And then they get attacked by a big monsterish siren that is named Nemesis (my dsmp god oc/variation based off of Niki c:)

And Dream has been to this area a couple of times long ago with Sapnap and George and he knows what to do so she doesn’t attack them

Which is to sacrifice some people into the water.

So admist the pandemonium of the party trying to help the crew so they can move the ship so they don’t get hit- as well as battling some of her sirens—

Dream “accidentally” pushes a few of the crew he’s travelled with into the waters and they get well- killed.

And nobody notices- Spooky and Fundy are too focused on trying to get the hell out of there

But Cala saw what happened

And she isn’t happy.

She says nothing about it until they’re safe and she kind of- gets angry! Rightfully so! Because he killed innocent people-

And Dream genuinely thought he was helping since he knew that they wouldn’t have made it.

And they get into their first actual argument and it ends with them having a physical fight on the ship since Cala is too upset and trying so hard to reason with him and her perspective kind of changes since she thought that “Pyre” wasn’t well- like that.

It’s a one on one fight and Cala tells Fundy and Spooky not to intervene-

And it ends when Cala accidentally hits a bit too hard and Dream- already spiraling because they’re fighting l shuts down and is stuck in his head.

They don’t talk for a small bit until Puffy saves their ship from some pirates and they end up reconciling- but she looks at him a bit differently now.

So yeah c:

( @somerandomcryptid tagging u uwu)

[emmatgc]

The What Ifs and Assumptions they said, now its finally high time to answer with a BANG

Num #1 :Grace and Tommy will still break up ultimately, they will fight. He keeps things from her and she didn't saw the other side of Tommy. What if she saw? She couldn't handle it all. She will leave him. That's why Lizzie is better.

Tommy and Grace had 5 years together physically, 2 years apart after the 1st year and 2 years before the wedding. Don't you think they didn't quarreled or fought? They did! The show implied though that despite provocations, Tommy doesn't shouts at Grace and wants to fix the problem or fight asap. Freaking cute right? A cold blooded killer wooing his wife not to fight or be mad at him anymore. Thats Tommy with Grace. Then, what's this non sense of they might still willingly breakup huh? Heck, they were apart for 2 years and both were f*cking crazy with each other and ehem never stopped fookin each other, at least in their heads! Tommy was a mistress by all accounts, he is fine with that, his son a bastard for 2 years, didn't care and he is the King of Birmingham at that point! 🤣 Oh, don't forget Grace was a spy, an undercover agent. I believe she can handle herself quite ok. Thank you!

Newsflash! Grace left already but returned why would she leave again? When Tommy bought her that arrow house in the country side! Tommy filters what he shares, true, and why? Did he ever tell Lizzie everything? For heavens sake, he change the safe codes after they sleep together when she told her he knew haha what was that? He doesn't trust her, at least not completely. She was loyal hmm esp when it suits her purpose, too. With Grace, he doesn't want to share everything to protect them and not put her or them in danger. Legitimate business is the priority. That's a very big difference.

Lizzie was and will always not be better.

Num #2: Tommy would have cheated in the long run even if Grace is alive

Hell No! Like I said, he may have cheated with others and thought of them as Grace so why on earth would he cheat on the actual person he dearly wants, loves and adores for? Not to mention desires and lusts over totally the way a man so in love should. He wants the original, he has it already. Why would he cheat with a copy cat? He would never cheat on her.

Num #3 Grace wouldn't understand Tommy if she would have lived, she wanted him to change. Lizzie accepted everything of Tommy.

Ummmm nope. Tommy wanted to CHANGE the moment he SAW GRACE in that pub. How so? He already cared by asking her as twisted as it was but its Tommy "are you a whore" scene. He cared more for her during the dance and her jerk kimber move , and well verbally implied he is undeserving of her thus he WILL change after 1 night of making love. Just 1 night! Grace and Tommy are the same. They both had said it. What makes you think Grace wouldn't understand? She killed a man for him, what did lizzie do exactly? Distract enemies, yeah. Great. The nerve to ask or assume she wouldn't understand his dark side. Lizzie did not accept Tommy fully in fact she whines constantly and wanting him to change for her, too. For Her! Thinking he would change! Grace made him think for himself. Others just demands of it.

Num #4 Tommy loved Lizzie more or the most.

Before I answer, how can you even say this? Tommy, breathless in Grace's presence and humbled by her wit, beauty and status. Does things only a man in love does- Kiss passionately, make love sincerely, tease each other, back hugs, neck kisses and sought after her, constantly. Does not cheat on her. He needs her. He fookin needs her so bad. He listens to her. Doesn't yell not treat her like dirt. Doesn't own her like a property and doesn't pay for sex. Yes it changed, she got promoted but very limited love or affectionate if you call it. "In this room , I love you?" What does that mean? after this, I don't anymore? Tommy supposed to be a man of no limitations eh? but for Lizzie, he certainly has. Tommy yearns for Grace even after her death. A simple gesture of sitting down beneath the huge portrait he didn't take down can calm him. A strand of her hair symbolizing his undying devotion and you call that less of what we saw in Seasons 4 to 6? Ridiculous! You think of Grace is alive and Grace wanted to leave , he will be ok with it? Of course not. Lizzie left. Not a word from Tommy. They were miserable together most of the time. Accept it. There were flashes of joy, ill give you that but the love, the romance and flame, never the same, never even there.

Num #5 (oh my favorite)

Tommy only married Grace for the baby.

Hmmm i think you are confusing it with the other one. Tommy will marry Grace with or without the baby. He broke up with May even without assurance Grace is staying but with certainty in his mind she was sailing away. Tommy even said to her to lie about the baby and let her husband believe its his , that tells us something right? Yet when Grace told him "I love you not him" Fuvk. The end. He melts and "nearly got fucking everthing" scene was born. He was more interested with Grace as to be his own wife then charlie. No offence charlie. He even waited 2 years to finally get married. Oh by the way, by off chance that baby is not Tommy's but Grace wants him to adapt or be the Dad, i would bet my life, he would gladly accept it no matter what. Just for Grace. No big deal.

Fast forward, when Grace died, Tommy tried to be a good dad but he failed. Without Grace, he cant. He just cant. He continued on living but we all know, in the end its Graces picture or portrait hanging hugely not some family picture of theirs. Its Grace only and always. While Charlie is the extension of Grace, it is not the same. He is not HER.

Num #6: Tommy doesn't know what he wants so he cant love Lizzie wholeheartedly

Bullshit. Tommy knows exactly what he wants. Power. Too ambitious for his own good , too. He knows what he wants in terms of love , too and it ain't Lizzie nor others. He is damaged goods already. Grace's made his heart beat again. It cant and simply wont beat for another love again. That is mainly because HE DOESN'T WANT TO! Haven't you thought about that? Do not excuse Tommy's behavior towards Lizzie. Im team Grace but i pity lizzie. My goodness. What was SK thinking? No self worth left and finally she left, good for her. He is hot and cold towards her not consistent. He lacks loyalty and basic respect towards her. It means only if it suits both their purpose. Carnal, limited and passing. Tommy Shelby either loves you or dont. Plain or simple.

Epilogue

By all accounts, Tommy loved his family and extended family. He chose them over Grace the 1st time, she died because of his family, too. But they were never loyal to Tommy and vice versa nor trusted each other completely. Tommy said it himself "my family hates me". Tommy was only devoted to Grace. He was never alone because she is there by his side, always. They were the same. Just utterly the same. Two halves. Two souls. The devil and angel. Hell and Heaven but both FIRE.

[borat123]

Analysis Pro NH Anti NS

Naruto Manga Part 2

Part 13 Finale

The reanimated Minato appears on the battlefield. He asks Naruto out of the blue, if the girl healing him is his girlfriend. Naruto’s reaction to this is actually very flat and careless. He hesitates and fumbles his words, then he falsesly agree and says ”if you’re splitting hairs, i guess”. The defintion of splitting hairs is and i quote: to make often peevish criticisms or objections about matters that are minor, unimportant, or irrelevant.

So clearly Naruto doesn’t even remotly see her in a romantic light. Not that he ever did, his ”crush” on her was only a side effect of the rivalry with Sasuke. He only noticed her because she actively tried her best to get noticed by Sasuke and made herself as pretty as possible. And Naruto being the goof that he is, saw the biggest Sasuke fangirls attempt at getting his attention and got jealous of Sasuke and tried to get her attention instead of Sasuke so that he could be better than Sasuke at something.

Anyway Sakura becomes furious and immediatly punches Naruto (in the middle of healing him by the way) and he comments on how she’s supposed to heal him and that he’s suffered more damage now because of her (honestly if anything they are more like two siblings quarrelling).

Then Minato out of the blue just like his stupid girlfriend comment compares Sakura to Kushina. But he actually looks embarrassed that she resembles her not so positive side. Kushina obviously has her loving, caring and ambitious side and he certaintly doesn’t compare her to that, but only her temper (that sooo many girls share in Naruto by the way it’s not exactly a unique trait). Minato looks embarrased and nervously laughs and then says somewhat sarcastically ” i leave my son in you’re capable hands”.

So he doesn’t actually supports them as a couple as some have claimed. Naruto later tells him that he hasn’t found a girlfriend and he accepts that and supports him.

Naruto thanks Sakura for healing him and then tells her to rest. He doesn’t actually see her as a capable kunoichi and he never really believed in her strength. Compare this to how he treats Sasuke or Hinata where he willingly invites them into battle with him and it becomes blatantly clear that Naruto doesn’t respect her. Besides Sakura even comments on how he only sees her as a damsel in distress and she’s not exactly wrong.

The first thing Naruto thinks about when he sees Sakura’s new super strength is how she’s gonna ”turn him into a stain” if he makes her angry. Her physical abuse on him has obviously had an lasting effect if that’s the first thing he comes up with. Compare this to Sasuke’s reaction where he smirks proudly instead.

We get another perspective of Naruto’s and Hinata’s hand holding where we see Naruto squeeze her hand harder and him smiling at her. We also have more foreshadowing of Naruto and Hinata’s future relationship. She notes she wants to stay beside Naruto forever, while remembering Naruto, she is able to not only complete the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms, but also combine it with Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists.

Naruto is later at the verge of death and Sakura uses her role as a medic Ninja to try and save him. She talks about how his unbeliveable dream is just around the corner and also does CPR on him (which a lot of people confuse with a kiss for some reason, i guess they’re either stupid or desperate for anything remotely close to NaruSaku). Besides it feels a lot more like Sakura is desperate to save her friend, who is much more like a brother to her than a romantic partner. Honestly the girl has been horny for Sasuke most of her life so why would that suddenly change just because she tries desperatly to save her friend who she only has nothing but platonic feelings towards.

When Naruto’s saved he doesn’t even thank her and just says ”lets go”. The depth honestly astounds me!

Later Sakura performs a very wise decision of rushing straight towards Madara with no plan or warning of her ingenious plan. This is very similar to when she decided to come back and stab Sasuke when he fought Kakashi. Typical case of narcissism, thinking she’s hot shit and can do everything herself even though Sasuke and Naruto (her much stronger teammates) saved her sorry ass. Naruto and Sasuke then help her and she doesn’t even thank Naruto for saving her and only despairs over Sasuke not caring. Naruto barely reacted at all to her getting stabbed. Compare this to when Hinata got stabbed when he went bat shit crazy and almost transformed into the Nine Tails.

Hinata is put under the Infinite Tsukuyomi and mentally calls out for Naruto...

And Naruto hears her mental call! In his protective nature he almost ran out of the Susanoo, leaving Team 7 behind. He is only just stopped by Sasuke. Let me really talk about this here, not only could he hear her mental call, but he also had no hesitation to rush out to save her even though he would leave Team 7, his ”family” behind. I mean hearing mental calls and seeing emotions through eyes, that’s some next level shit honestly!

This sort of validate the idea that Naruto and Hinata are connected. Both Naruto and Hinata constantly use words the other has said (for example Hinata says his Ninja way and Naruto makes a refrence to being ”selfish” earlier in the war. There are so many parallels between them that i cant list them all here). They also understand each others hardships, how they are both ”proud failures” who work hard to change themselves. They are kindred spirits. They both admire and respect each others will to never give up and that’s also ironically why they both start falling for each other. We know how in Naruto people are connected through blood, for example with the summoning jutsu. Naruto’s blood vow to Hinata was him sealing that connection between them.

Inside the Infinite Tsukuyomi, Hinata dreams of being with Naruto, while Neji and Hanabi watch. Which, incidentally, also discards claims that she cared nothing for Neji because apparently her greatest dreams was being with Naruto and Neji being alive.

Interesting how they show Hinata in this panel as it could be viewed as an in direct reference to Naruto’s and Hinata’s relationship and past.

We see Naruto and Hinata standing very close to each other at Neji’s funeral. It was implied that they actually got really close after the war. Hinata is also seen crying at Neji’s funeral so that debunks stupid claims of her not ”caring”. Honestly he was like a brother too her, of course she would care?! What’s wrong with people?

Besides i think that it’s very likely that the Last could have worked to be set shortly after the war. Both Naruto and Hinata have shown (atleast for me) that they both love each other and that they are ready for a relationship. But at the same time, Naruto, even though he’s matured a whole lot compared to the start of Part 2 is still oblivous to real romantic love, even though he has shown signs of it towards Hinata. That he thinks Hinata and Ramen are the same thing is actually somewhat believable since he confuses his love for her with his childhood comfort food that has brought him happiness. It’s actually a very Naruto thing in my opinion.

So it still makes sense to be set 2 years after, the characters need to mature and be older sure, but it defiantly could have worked earlier.

Anyway that will be all for these analyses. It was a lot of fun to write these and hopefully you learned something new by reading them. Hopefully this brought some new light towards NH and also some depth as to why NS was always a crack ship.

Naruto and Hinata’s relationship is something that had always interested me since the start. Actually NH moments in Part 1 are my prefered subject and i wouldn’t mind maybe doing analyses on them too. Thanks for reading!

Here are all the previous parts:

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

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

[fandom-space-princess]

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 3: Raphael

Raphael watches, impassive. “Our pain is not weakness, Michael. This grief... it took some time, but I did eventually come to understand. Why I awoke here, that is. You met Gabriel at the Styx? Fitting. Judgement always was her burden to bear. But this... this is mine."

Read below the cut, or on AO3

************************************

With Gabriel gone, the shades begin to dissipate, and soon Michael finds himself alone once again.

It doesn’t last long.

“Well done,” comes a voice from behind him. The tone is the same as before, but now the words are spoken aloud. The entity’s form has shifted. It wears a body that, while still indistinct and hazy, appears far closer to human than it had previously done.

Michael scrambles to his feet. He can feel his own form shifting as well, physical appearance undergoing continental drift atop his roiling grace.

“You took her. Gabriel. What have you done with her?”

“Please try to keep up, my boy. I took nothing and no one. The messenger is safe and well, merely—well, let’s call it offstage, for the moment. And she came quite willingly, as you saw for yourself.” The entity folds its hands neatly in front of it. “I see that she has given you much to consider. I trust your time together was informative?”

“That’s—one way of phrasing it.” The entity moves away, beckoning, and Michael doesn’t fight the impulse to follow. At the termination of the crevice, just outside the circle of crumbling stones, he is unsurprised to see that the path continues deeper into the forest.

As they walk, low-hanging branches catch and drag at his hair, his clothing. Michael feels as though he might be leaving snippets of himself behind, like fur snagged in brambles along the trail. He thinks of Gabriel’s wispy audience with sorrow. “So much of the Host, dead and gone. So many shades. I knew, of course I knew. But seeing them there... it’s not the same.” Regret swirls within him, settling as a tightness around his eyes; he can feel it there, performing the subtle work of reshaping the image he wears.

Into what, though—he doesn’t yet know.

The being at his side nods, curt. “You must understand where your actions lead. Not solely for yourself, but for others. You cannot abdicate your duty to your nature by refusing to choose, any more than you can by making choices.” He gets the impression that it raises its eyebrows meaningfully in his direction. “In your brief period of freedom, you knew the state of Heaven, and yet you turned your back on your responsibilities. On Earth, with that human—that wasn’t choosing. You were hiding.”

The words dig at him, slivers of ice working their way into the center of his grace. Adam. “He needed me. And I needed to keep him safe.”

“That’s a partial truth at best, and I’ve no interest in coddling self-delusion. Try again.”

Being dead, he is discovering, has a way of making it harder to lie to himself. Shame flares low in his stomach. “I... I should have done better by them all. They were my family, and I failed them. I couldn’t face them. Couldn’t face—”

He stops. The path has led them to the edge of another river. Crystalline and clear, smooth as glass, it burbles quietly past their feet. It winds away in lazy curves, disappearing into the deeper shade of the trees.

Michael looks down at his reflection, and his Father’s face looks back at him.

A hand on his shoulder. “I am not without sympathy for your pain,” the being at his back says, gently. “But running from it is no solution. The realm of Heaven is in disarray. Without you and your kin, it will fall, new God or no. And then—whatever it is you love, whatever it is you fear—then there will truly be nothing left to salvage.”

Michael crouches down, touches fingertips to the image of Chuck’s face. Tiny ripples distort the surface, rebounding off each other, spreading and fading away. “This isn’t the Styx. None of this should be here at all. What have you done to the local reality? And to what purpose?”

“Ask your next brother. They always were the wisest of you.”

This time, Michael doesn’t need to turn to know he is alone.

************************************

He follows the river further into the wilds, meandering gradually down the mountainside. The underbrush thins with the change in altitude, and the straggling trees grow steadily sparser. Before long he finds himself among yet more ruins, though these appear considerably more modern than the last. The river glides through the bones of a forgotten city. He picks his way along streets of stone dwellings adorned by grand archways, airy courtyards, monolithic houses of worship. Mist twines in and among the silent remains of civilization, and everywhere he looks he sees the incursion of the forest: trees growing in cracking walls, moss overhanging low rooftops.

Near the center of the city, both buildings and trees grow abruptly denser once again. A thicket of olive trees and creeping ivy, solid and unassailable, tangle up through ruined foundations and collapsed walls. The river seeps between the roots and disappears under a wall, alongside a single narrow entryway into what must once have been a church. It is barely wide enough to permit him entrance.

He pushes forward, through the vines.

An uneasy aura pervades the air within, musty and stifling, heavy across his shoulders and thick in his lungs. The further in he travels, the stronger it becomes. As it intensifies, he realizes that the feeling is not solely physical; a heady and potent psychic residue that he recognizes as grief only when he finds himself choking back a sob, without understanding quite why.

Down an overgrown corridor, and as suddenly as the vegetation had closed in upon him, it clears. He finds himself in an interior courtyard, roof all but gone, open under the sky.

“So, I get to see you again, after all. Hello, Michael.”

He looks around, confused, for a moment unable to identify the source of the words. Then, all at once, he sees.

In the quiet grove that has sprung up to consume this once-thriving city stands a sparkling pool, the termination point of the river’s above-ground course. Here the water stagnates, swirling deeper into a reservoir carved through foundation and bedrock to disappear into the earth. A stand of trees grows about the edge, roots worming deep down to seek the water through cracks in the floor. What he had originally taken for a statue carved into that living wood shifts minutely. Raphael meditates among the trunks, limbs now gnarled branches, head crowned by thick twisting ivy.

They are, he realizes, the source of the pain imbuing this place. He circles the pool and seats himself beside them, back bending under the onerous weight of their distress.

“You’ve taken His face,” they observe. Their voice holds neither scorn nor approval. Only sorrow. “Don’t take this personally, but I don’t think it suits you.”

“I’m not so certain of that,” he replies morosely. He brushes his hand lightly over the back of one of their own, firm and warm as olive wood. “And you’ve given up on a human form at all. I didn’t realize you held any fondness for dryads.”

“I needed—a change of perspective.” There is, momentarily, a hint of wry smile in their voice. Even on their worst days, he reflects, Raphael always held a spark of gentleness. It makes him ache for them; warrior and healer both, the only one among them as truly skilled in restoring life as taking it. They had never needed his protection, but he should have done more to uplift and support them, still. “Hamadryads have no skin to stitch. No bones to set. They neither bleed, nor do they break. They put down roots, and they grow, and they watch the world pass. It’s a peaceable enough existence.”

“Brother, you—you do realize where we are.”

Raphael rolls their eyes. “I’m dead, Michael, not blind.” They shake their head, ivy tumbling back and out of their face. Michael realizes, abruptly, that the ivy is a deep emerald green; like the blindfold Gabriel had worn, it is the only point of color against the otherwise monochrome environment.

“Then maybe you can enlighten me. I was sent to find you. By... well, I still don’t really know by who.”

“Don’t you, though?”

“I don’t,” he replies, adamant. “I can’t see the purpose to this, any of this. We are asked to return to the world, but to what end? What makes him think—” Michael breaks off, defeated.

“What makes him think we’d do any good for it this time around?” Raphael finishes knowingly.

Michael studies his reflection in the water, and says nothing.

They shake their head again, turning to contemplate the pool. “Did you know this pool has no bottom? If you fell in, you’d sink for eternity. There’d be no point in swimming; you couldn’t save yourself.”

“Why do you sound like you’re considering it?”

Raphael sighs. “I tried so hard, Michael. I fought and bled and died for our family, and still, it fell apart. You’re wearing His face, and for what? You blame yourself?” They look down at their palms, loose in their lap. The wood there is stained; in a place with light, with color, Michael wonders with a shiver if the stains might not appear the ruddy brown of old blood. “But I was our healer, Brother. And I tried and I tried, but I couldn’t heal anyone.” The sadness in the atmosphere redoubles, clawing over Michael’s skin.

Their voice cracks. “I couldn’t even heal myself. He wouldn’t even allow me that much.”

Michael’s head drops to his hands. This agony, like a breaking bone or a breaking heart, has been eating at their foundations for so long. Gabriel struck speechless, Raphael in tatters, and himself—what had he done for them? Other than carry out the edicts of a creator who treated his creation as no better than toys, to be discarded when He was bored of them?

He feels tears bead at the corners of his eyes, and overflow. To his astonishment, they do not fall onto his hands. He draws back in surprise.

The tears hang suspended in the air before him, crystalline. Gently revolving, they slowly coalesce, and descend toward the pool. When at last they meet the surface of the water, they merge without a single ripple marring the glassy shine.

Raphael watches, impassive. “Our pain is not weakness, Michael. This grief... it took some time, but I did eventually come to understand. Why I awoke here, that is. You met Gabriel at the Styx? Fitting. Judgement always was her burden to bear. But this... this is mine. The Kokytos is fed by the tears of mourners.” Their voice rings hollow, but there is an underpinning of tenderness there, Michael thinks. Something patient. Something compassionate. “My own contribution was long overdue.”

“How do you know where I came from? And why the rivers at all?”

“My stubborn, immovable brother.” Raphael’s smile is weary, but fond, even in their grief. “This place is his to command, he who sent you here, beyond mortality as it is. Knowledge flows through it. You need only listen for it.”

Michael scrubs hands across his eyes, and takes slow, steadying breaths. “Raphael. You don't belong here, not like this. Please. Move on from this place with me. We can do it together.”

Their eyes crinkle at the corners. Gently, they extend a hand down to break the surface of the pool. “No, Michael. In that, you are mistaken. It has been too long since I allowed myself to sit with my pain, and learn what it has to teach me. Give me time. I’ll catch up with you.” They draw the hand to their face. Trace their fingers over their lips. The tip of their tongue flicks out, catching at the water that beads there. “If I am to heal, first I must let myself mourn. Don’t worry too much about me. I know how far the river of lamentation runs; I will not drink so deeply of this well that I drown.”

The thought of leaving Raphael behind fills him with dread, but he nods. Stands. They reach up to him, trace a hand over his wrist as he pulls away.

“I wish I could have done more for you, too,” they murmur. “But you aren’t Him, Michael. Please remember that. You’re nothing like Him. I wish I could have helped you to see that more clearly.”

Michael resists the urge to look back into the pool, to see his reflection there. “I don’t know what I am. But I’ll keep searching until I do know.”

“That’s all I could hope for. See you soon.”

He feels the edges of his countenance shift and blur again. When he exits the room, his companion is waiting.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- The city in which Michael finds Raphael is inspired by the ghost city of Kayaköy, currently part of Turkey; by its former inhabitants, it was referred to in modern Greek as Levissi. Between World War I and the Greco-Turkish war, its entire population was either forcibly exiled or killed. Despite the horror of that recent history, until that point it had been a relatively peaceful place, its mixed Muslim and Orthodox Christian populations living together harmoniously. It is now officially under the protection of historical conservation, and there have been some attempts at restoration. I think Raphael would consider such a place deeply meaningful, and be able to find healing in the possibility of moving on even in the wake of such tragedy.)

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

" Leave! Me! Alone! " (for the prompt thing :3)

*Fully dusts off BATIM Monster AU due to it being the spooky month* You know, I don't think I've pinned down what type of monster Thomas was when I started this...

And I recently realized that I have a strong lack of vampires in this AU.

The GENT Mechanic wasn't a full-on monster hater. He had no interest in joining any monster-hunting group that sniffed him out, he often rolled his eyes at small-town preachers who looked down at them, and he mostly minded his own business when it came to the tricky relationship between humans and monsters.

But he also wasn't anywhere as enthusiastic about the studio as Joey and Allison were. He was a sensible man, he knew that monsters were dangerous and that it was stupid not to only trust them at an arm's length.

He could admit that he admired that his client could go as far as to start an entire animation empire just to ensure that his friend (and many others he had met along the way) would be in a place where they weren't seen as outcasts and wouldn't stop doing what they loved because of their circumstances, but he couldn't help but feel... wary of the majority of the studio's strange inhabitants.

Nobody would blame the human mechanic for avoiding the music department as often as he could, knowing the Music Director and how he viewed humans, it would be like blaming a mouse for avoiding a lion's den.

At the same time, he would get funny looks from others as he never went near the studio without a silver cross, an iron ring, a small bag of mixed herbs that was dubbed 'monster bane' due to it being a mix of various monster-repelling plants, and a bag of salt. Because of this, Thomas was not a popular person in the mostly-monster populated studio, but that didn't matter to him.

This wasn't his circus, it wasn't his monkeys, and once his contract ended, he'd probably never go there again. At least, that's what he would tell himself until the day wearing his cross started to burn himself.

--------

"It's a good thing that Allison found you in this state and threw your... wards away imminently." Dr. Hackenbush sighed as he continued to apply the numbing paste to his still twitching patient's neck. "Due to the secrecy surrounding vampire covens, their reluctance to talk about their various races' weaknesses as they're a monster hunter's favorite prey, and the many different types of vampires in the world, it's actually hard to determine what can and can't kill a recently turned vamp. Especially when one can't remember the circumstances of their change."

Tom was partly focusing on what the doctor was telling him, partly freaking himself out by trying and failing to remember how and why he had turned, and mostly keeping an eye out on the entrance to the infirmary as if he expected something to fly in and finish him off.

"Vampires in general might be notoriously hard to keep down for the count, but the process of the metamorphosis from human to vampire is extremely exhausting on the newly made fledgling." The doctor stated as he moved on to put more of the paste on Tom's other injured areas. "While this wouldn't be lethal to an older vamp, it's still extremely painful to them and considered to be torture among many of their races. In your current state and judging based off of the traits I've seen so far... ...I strongly suspect that the cross would've eventually burnt your head clean off your neck if you had not been found in time."

Thomas absentmindedly put his hand where his cross would normally be and gritted his teeth.

Nobody visited him yet, nobody aside from Allison even approached the door before the doctor shooed her out. He wasn't in the state to receive visitors yet, but he could already feel the parade of smug monsters gawking at him. He could already hear them laughing at the loss of his humanity, he could already picture several of them sticking their noses up at his misery declaring 'serves you right!' at him.

"...Could you open your mouth for me Mr. Conner?"

"Huh?" The mechanic snapped out of his day-nightmare and acknowledged the doctor's request. "Oh yeah, sure."

"Thank goodness, it seems that you've been brought in just at the cusp of changing..." While Tom didn't close his mouth on the doctor, he did look at him funny when he began to paint a different paste in his mouth, specifically, on his gums and teeth. The stuff made his mouth feel strongly like static in a matter of seconds. "Comment all you want, but you'd be thanking me if you knew exactly how much of a bitch it would hurt if you had to go through this without the strongest painkillers mankind could make."

"Well I ned mure af ha stuff if I turn inta a baht manstah?"

The mechanic half sarcastically asked through an extremely numb mouth as soon as the doctor was done putting the paste in there.

"No, unlike a werewolf who will transform based on the position of the moon, a vampire's ability to turn into a bat is normally rooted in the said vampire's willpower and or their mental and emotional state. It will not hurt unless you will it to. But turning into a bat and back again will use up a lot of energy and burn a ton of calories, so I don't recommend it as of right now. For similar reasons, I also wouldn't recommend swimming twenty miles and running a marathon back to back either."

The doctor did a once-over on his patient's treated injuries and checked his vitals before giving him his normal clothes back.

"Alright, it seems that everything's up to order..." The doctor proceeded to write down a list that he handed to Thomas. "Don't eat anything until after you can fully feel your mouth again, otherwise you might accidentally cut out your own tongue. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to either come to me about it or ask around the studio for either werewolf packs or vampire covens. The latter's rarer than the former but werewolves and vampires have been known to get along well due to the pair often engaging in a symbiotic relationship."

"I thawt tat Wahwoles an vamhires hated each other..?"

He was internally grateful that the staticky feeling of his mouth was subsiding just enough for him to be able to talk normally again.

"That's a common misconception that came from World War II I'm afraid; American soldiers who happen to be vampires hate Nazis who happen to be werewolves and vice versa."

Thomas frowned as he stopped to read the list, it was basically a bunch of common vampire dos and don'ts, mostly don'ts; avoid sunlight, religious symbols and texts, mirrors in public areas, etc. He ran his tongue against his top and bottom canine teeth and while his tongue still felt off from the medicine, he could tell that those teeth were longer and sharper.

He knew that with each passing second, he was becoming more and more like one of the studio's many monsters that he was wary of, and he felt gutted because of it.

"...Thanks for everything, doc. I... I'll go ask Joey for some time off to adjust to all of... this."

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

Instead of going to Joey, Tom had spent the rest of the day trying to carry on with his daily tasks and work as usual, fixing up the pipes, checking on the Ink machine, mostly just trying to bury the knowledge of his vampirism in work.

Thankfully he was unbothered by the studio's workers, so it mostly worked out fine for him. Until he got to his least favorite part of the studio to work in: The music department.

Part of him was tempted to just make Wally do this, but as a werewolf, Wally would sense that he wasn't wearing silver or wolf's bane anymore and would be curious as to why he wasn't wearing any. He didn't want to lie to him but he also didn't want the Janitor to find out about his ...condition, he wasn't ready for that yet. In fact, he didn't want anyone in the studio's wolf pack to find out about this. He had goosebumps on the outside and inside just thinking about how they'd react.

He knew that they wouldn't be smug about it like how he assumed other monsters would, even worse than that. They'd know that he didn't have a coven as he was only recently turned, so they'd probably welcome him into the pack with open arms, especially if he was one of those vampires that was able to turn into a wolf too. They'd freely and willingly accept them as one of their own, a monster.

He tried to shake those thoughts away and continue to work on pipes that had been bitten into by the godforsaken raven monster. He cursed about Sammy under his breath as he fixed them as usual. He could feel the music director's presence as he did so, but unlike how this normally went, he didn't sense any hostility or hunger coming from the looming shadow of the beast in human's clothing.

Thomas had his back turned away from the normally wrathful monster, he wasn't seeing what the man's expression was. He didn't know if the damned bird was proud of his lost humanity, looking at him like he was now worthy of being an underling of his, or if the musician simply pitied him for god knows why.

But the mere presence of the beast alone was driving him crazy.

"Leave! Me! ALONE!" The vampire mechanic spun around and half-shouted half-hissed at the confused looking music director. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT ME, BUT I DON'T NEED YOU TO LOOM OVER MY WORK AND RUB IN WITH YOUR PRESENCE THAT I'M A FUCKING UNDEAD, BLOOD-SUCKING, FANGED FREAK!"

Thomas wasn't sure which reaction he was excepting from the beast, but he felt a mixture of goosebumps and anger as the director stepped forward and looked at him with intrigue.

"...Do you mean a vampire?"

"Yes, of course I do." The mechanic rolled his eyes as he fought back the urge to fight the raven. "What gave it away?"

Sammy smiled at him, not in that hungry 'I want to eat you but know that I can't' kind of smile, but also not a smug 'haha! you're a monster too now!' way. Before today, Thomas wasn't sure that Sammy was physically capable of smiling like that and it both creeped him out and made him angrier about this situation.

"Nothing, you simply told me that yourself."

"...Then why were you starring at me like that?"

The Bird monster shrugged.

"I was just wondering why your presence didn't seem to harm anyone anymore." He stated as he turned to leave Tom to do his work. "I guess I know why now."

[exhaustedfander]

For the oneshot request, could you please do some soft logince? Maybe Logan's had a hard day and Roman comforts him with some cuddles or smth?

You got it! It’s certainly been a while since I've written Logince, but it’s a ship I've loved for a while and one I had a lot of fun writing again. 

a03 link

Word Count: 1,673

A Little Creature Comfort Never Hurt 

Logan hesitated to say that he’d had a hard day. Yes, it had been rather tiring. Yes, one of his students had nearly burned the science department to the ground; it reminded him quite a bit of the shenanigans that Roman’s brother, Remus, liked to pull. It was a wonder that he was able to find any humor in the situation. But Logan hadn’t had a “hard day” per se, considering it could’ve certainly gone worse. Even more so, tonight was date night, and Logan intended to put his best foot forward despite his exhaustion.

Roman was making dinner and they were going to watch a movie together. If anything, the evening would be rather relaxing.

Logan sighed as he opened the door to their shared apartment, removing his shoes and placing his briefcase by the door. He could smell the heavy aromas of garlic and chicken coming from the kitchen, his lips upturning in a faint smile as Roman came to the doorway. He was clad in a “Kiss the Cook” apron that Logan had gotten him as a joke last Christmas, having not thought Roman would actually use it. It had been foolish not to know Roman would wear it every chance he had.

“Hello, love of mine,” Roman greeted in a sing-song-tone, walking up to him and throwing his arms around his shoulders and giving him a tight squeeze.

“Salutations, Roman. Dinner smells good.” Roman grinned, pulling Logan into a kiss that the teacher could’ve just melted into, had he allowed himself to do so. Instead he ignored the fact that he was nearly dead on his feet, pulling away and smiling at Roman.

“Thanks, nerd. Should be done in a few minutes. Could you go set the table?”

“Of course.”

Logan still found it odd sometimes, the domesticity that had fallen over his life. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t ever expected to find someone who he wanted to share a life with, he’d considered what his future might entail for years prior. It was just the fact that Roman had taken him by complete surprise. In all honesty, they hadn’t been on the best of terms for quite a while. Roman was a stage actor, a profession that Logan used to know almost nothing about; he still knew very little, but he’d tried to understand as much as he could for Roman’s sake. Logan had never quite understood the ways of the theater. Sure, he could research the great array of plays and performances as well as the rules to how to craft had been perfected as well as the technicality of everything, but that didn’t actually provide him with an understanding of why people enjoyed plays as much as they did.

He’d met Roman through a mutual friend of theirs, Patton, who Logan was fairly sure had been trying to set them up from the get-go. Logan had been sympathetic of the fact that Patton meant well as being as happy as he was in his own relationship with his husband, Virgil, would only want to encourage love in others. But when he met Roman, he was flabbergasted. How could this man be someone Patton could remotely believe to be his type?!

The first several months of being acquainted, many of their conversations devolved to full-blown arguments more times than not. Patton, sweet, sweet Patton, had tried to keep the peace between them but to no avail. It seemed they were destined to argue, and they did just that, any time they spent time with their friends or spent time alone together. Come to think of it, why were they spending time alone together? The question baffled Logan but still he found no answer. Surely, he despised Roman’s company…right?

Signs were pointing to no, considering the moment a quarrel of theirs had found a peak in tension the two of them had connected their lips in a fit of more than mere spur-of-the-moment passion. Logan, as it turned out, had feelings more than just animosity for Roman. All of those instances in which they’d been screaming their heads off at each other he’d unknowingly been becoming smitten with the brash man – and strangely enough, Roman felt the same.

Things didn’t fall into place automatically. There was a gap period where the pair weren’t exactly sure what to label their relationship, considering extensive amounts of conflict continuing between them. But as time went on more of their conflicts found resolutions, or at the very least apologetic make-ups. Roman was much more than the bold, overconfident actor who Logan had initially taken him to be. He came to recognize the kindness his boyfriend possessed that he was working to improve upon as well as how hard-working and determined he was. He was compassionate, and supportive, and far more loving than Logan had ever known.

It pushed Logan a great deal out of his comfort-zone, the affection that Roman was able to provide do freely and willingly. Logan’s relationship with his own emotions as well as human-touch in general was complicated, but being with Roman, he was able to find himself growing to embrace it.

Now here Logan found himself, nearly two years into a relationship with a man so unlike himself, but someone who brought him more joy than even he could conceive. Most of the time, he was deliriously happy in a way he’d never expected to be. He’d even attended a great deal of plays, some of which Roman performed in, some not, to show his appreciation for his partner’s craft. He still had little interest in the theater, but he had to admit that Roman was a spectacle onstage that rivaled the beauty of the constellations. He performed with such gusto, such genuineness and bravado that Logan would have to be a fool not to see the raw talent his boyfriend possessed.

So, to say the least, Logan took date night very seriously. They were both very busy individuals with their work, so some down-time spent together at home was something he cherished dearly. He wanted to express to Roman how much he loved him and adored his company. He was never as spontaneously romantic as his boyfriend was; sometimes Roman wrote him love-letters just for the hell of it, several pages long and sentimental enough to bring a tear to Logan’s eyes. But he could still do whatever possible to ensure that Roman understood that he cared.

Logan and Roman ate dinner and chatted idly about their days. Logan forwent explaining his deep-seeded exhaustion that was beginning to take a tole, determined to make the most of their time together.

It was only when they shut the lights out and Roman put on “one of Logan’s nerd science documentaries” that he liked so much did the weight of the day settle over him. He fought to keep his eyes on the screen, basking in Roman’s embrace but despite how much he willed it, he was dozing off before he knew it.

“Mmm – what?” Logan mumbled in confusion, shifting the blankets around him and realizing he was in bed without remembering how he’d come to be there, his glasses placed gingerly on the bedside table. Roman chuckled, turning their bedroom light out and sliding into bed beside him.

“You started drifting off, sleeping beauty,” Roman teased, “So I brought you to bed. I noticed that you looked tired when you came home but you should’ve said something. We could’ve rescheduled date-night and allowed you to get a few more hours of sleep.” Logan sat up, his mind still somewhat fuzzy with sleepiness.

“I apologize, dear. I’d tried to stay awake.” Roman grabbed his hand, the contact comforting and soft.

“Whatever are you sorry for, my love? You can’t help that you’re tired, you must’ve had a hard day.” Logan sighed. Was it pitiful that the feeling of Roman’s thumb brushing over his knuckles in a steady rhythm was already beginning to lure him back to his slumber?

“I suppose so. A student was messing with flammable liquids without proper instruction and a small fire started. Luckily, it was put out with little trouble, but quite exhausting nonetheless. And then I’d had a staff meeting that was as dull as ever. Did you know they’re talking about cutting this year’s trip to the Science Center? I was appalled.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” Roman cooed in a tone that had it been anyone else, Logan would’ve been positive Roman was making fun of him. Perhaps he was, if only a little, “Why didn’t you say something? I would’ve understood; you’ve put up with me in more sour moods than I’d dare to count.” Logan sighed, relaxing against his boyfriend as Roman ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know…I suppose I didn’t want to disappoint you. I enjoy our time together and I didn’t want to sacrifice it, even if I was a little overtired.”

“You could never be a disappointment, mí amour,” Roman drawled out flirtatiously, pressing a quick kiss to the back of Logan’s neck, “And I will always understand if you’re too tired or upset to do something. Just as you preach to me, physical health and mental health are incredibly important things that shouldn't be disregarded."

“Yes, but it’s different when I’m begging you to go to bed when it’s already past 3 am and you’ve hardly had anything to eat all day,” Logan scolded, though the feeling of Roman massaging his scalp took much of the bite out of his bark.

“Ah, but similar nonetheless.” Logan yawned, feeling Roman’s arms wrap around him as he pulled him into a cocoon of an embrace that he was positively helpless to. “Go to sleep, dearest. We can talk more in the morning. I love you with all my heart.” Logan had very little energy for a rebuttal of any kind, instead sinking further into the warmth that was Roman’s hug, closing his eyes and drifting back into slumber.

“I love you too.”

=+=

[lailaliquorice]

a dream is a soft place to land

this is a very very long awaited prompt from the lovely @bottom-of-the-bin who asked for aralyn with the prompt ‘It was you the whole time’. took me a little while to think of something but I’m soft today so here is some soft for you cass!!

I need to write more aralyn in general, and when I saw the show last sunday Jaye’J and Vicki were aralyn rights so I’ve been needed to write them this week in particular. little bit of historical aralyn alluded to too, and some nice commentary on anne’s relationship with relationships. I get a big people-pleaser vibe from her, and I think with catherine she has just found that person who is her home and she can sink into. it’s good and I love them <3

Skipping out on 500-odd years of human development meant that there had been plenty for the queens to adjust to when they were first reincarnated. Some things had been an exciting curve; most technology, for instance. Their appreciation for cameras and the ability to save moments forever was obvious in the photo frames dotted all over the house as well as Anna’s scrapbook, Jane’s photo album, and Anne’s string of polaroids. The internet had been a wonder for Cathy’s research , while Catherine was probably most grateful for the documentaries she could watch on a quiet evening when she didn’t want to be alone in her own head.

But there were some things that had been much harder. Remembering that falling ill wasn’t a death sentence anymore, for instance. The first time Kat had come down with a cough she’d burst into Jane’s room in hysterics, sobbing between painful breaths that she didn’t want to die again, and Catherine had seen too clearly the fear in Jane’s gaze as she hushed Kat with reassurances none of them quite believed in. They knew things were safer now, could remember that logically, but when times were stressful it was hard to trust in something so different from what they’d known.

A particularly nasty bout of colds had struck the entire cast and crew, meaning more than one show had to be cancelled as the fight to get six actresses and four band members onto stage became too hard. It was nothing serious, they were all repeatedly assured, just enough to make them all a little miserable and the idea of doing the job they loved so much seem like an impossible feat.

Catherine made sure to close the door quietly as she came home from a show with Anna and Kat. They’d managed to push through to what they were hoping was the tail end of the little epidemic, with all the Ladies in Waiting except Maggie back in commission and half of the queens just about able to pull off a good show.

Cathy’s insistence on pushing through when she was sick had caused her illness to drag on for much longer than anyone else’s, much to her frustration that Anna doing the same had had the opposite outcome, while Jane’s anxiety around illness meant she felt a little too mentally fragile to go on stage even though she was probably physically able to. Anne, on the other hand, had managed not to get sick for long enough that she got cocky thinking she’d escaped, right before she fell ill at the last minute and was still going through the worst of it.

After bringing Jane a mug of peppermint tea and checking that Cathy was still resting properly, Catherine padded quietly up the stairs to Anne’s attic room. Upon peering round the door she saw her curled up on top of the duvet asleep, though she stirred with a quiet hum as the door hinges squeaked slightly.

“Hello love,” Catherine said, crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed as Anne blinked sleepily up at her. “How are you feeling?”

Anne hummed again as she decided on her answer. “Tired and achy,” she said, which explained why she hadn’t really moved from her lifeless position on the bed.

Giving her a sympathetic smile, Catherine felt her forehead before answering and wasn’t surprised at the head radiating from her skin. “You poor soul,” she murmured as she stroked Anne’s hair away from her face.

“I don’t like it,” Anne muttered, though seemed to relax a little under Catherine’s gentle touch. After several seconds of quiet, she met Catherine’s gaze almost hesitantly before asking “Can… can you just hold me for a little bit? Please?”

Catherine’s heart melted a little at the shyness in her voice, swinging her legs onto the bed to lie down and open her arms. Anne didn’t wait for her to say “Of course,” before she was crawling into her embrace, one arm around her back as she laid her head down just below Catherine’s chin.

They were quiet for a little while, Catherine just enjoying having her girlfriend in her arms and Anne taking obvious comfort from having someone holding her close. She was just wondering if Anne had fallen back to sleep when she shifted a little and asked “Do you remember that time we went riding back then and got lost in the woods together?”

The old memory was an unexpected but pleasant one, and Catherine found herself smiling into Anne’s hair as she replied. “Of course. We began that day at each other’s throats but ended it friends at long last, not that we could let the King know that. Whatever made you think of that now?”

“I dunno. Was just thinking about us, I guess.”

Catherine couldn’t help the frown that made its way onto her face at that, struggling to keep the stiff tension she could feel from building in her shoulders to the point where Anne would notice. “How so?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Anne shrugged, but when she moved her head up to look at Catherine there was only a soft smile on her face. “How its different with us than anything I’ve felt before.”

The curious quiet from Catherine clearly registered as a cue for her to continue, as Anne coughed into the crook of her elbow to clear her raspy throat before she spoke again. “Normally when I fell for people it’d be all at once. I wanted them, they wanted me, we’d both just want the people we showed to each other and when we really saw each other it never lasted. When they really saw me.” She trailed off for a moment then, a faraway look appearing on her face as she finished “I was always too much.”

“Never for me,” Catherine interrupted quietly, kissing Anne’s forehead lightly.

“That’s what I mean,” Anne fought on, finding Catherine’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “There was never any big moment with you, y’know? It never hit me like a bus that I was crushing on you which was what I always looked for. But it was that day in the woods that I actually saw you for the first time and you saw me, and for the first time ever that made things better.”

She broke off to sniffle loudly, and it was only when she looked back up into Catherine’s adoring expression that she realised that the usually so hard-headed Anne Boleyn was actually almost crying.

“And it took far too long but eventually I just knew. It was you the whole time. It was always going to be you.”

Catherine let out a choked up breathe as Anne finished, pulling her closer and holding her tightly. “I love you,” she said, not a single shred of hesitance in her voice. She’d struggled to utter those three words for so long, but now they fell off her tongue with practised ease from just how much she meant them.

Anne hummed happily from somewhere around Catherine’s collar, willingly accepting the kiss that Catherine placed on her lips before she gave a reluctant frown. “You’ll get sick if you do that,” she whined, sounding very unwilling to be the voice of reason for once.

“I’ve already had this illness, I’m immune to it now,” Catherine pointed out somewhat confidently, though pulled an unsure expression as she added “Well, I think that’s how it works.”

Laughter from Anne brought the smile back to her face, soothing her girlfriend’s worries by kissing her on the nose instead which just made her giggle harder. But she grew a little more serious when she spoke again, thinking of what Anne had said as she voiced her thoughts aloud. “You know what I think of love at first sight, but there was something on that day you’re right. Familiarity. Like my soul had found it’s home on Earth and it was with you,” she said wistfully.

“I love it when you get poetic,” Anne said, her voice somewhere between adoring and teasing.

Catherine gave a quiet huff, but her pretend annoyance lasted a second before the soft expression returned to her face. “You know what I mean though,” she said, and Anne hummed in agreement before she continued. “You’re the one person who I can be truly honest with. I never doubt my words with you or second-guess myself. I don’t have to be Catherine of Aragon when it’s just us within these walls. I can just be Catalina.” She loved it when Anne called her by her Spanish name; loved the distinction it gave her between her usual self and the person she knew inside, loved how the clumsy syllables rolled off her non-native tongue.

Nodding, Anne held Catherine’s gaze with a loving smile. “To me you are just Catalina,” she said, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. As if loving her was the most simple thing in the world.

“And I love you for it.”

Anne smiled. “Love you too.”

Catherine rolled onto her back as Anne clung to her tighter, curling up in the crook of Catherine’s arm with her head on her chest and legs tangled with hers. The last words before she drifted off to sleep were barely audible, but Catherine could pick out enough consonants from the sleepy mumble to get an idea of what she was saying.

“I always feel safe when I’m here with you.”

Pressing a kiss to Anne’s forehead, Catherine lay still with only her hand moving to card gentle fingers through Anne’s hair while she slept. She knew better than most the trust issues that Anne kept so quiet, so the true enormity of Anne’s statement wasn’t lost on her. So she held her close while she got the rest she so desperately needed, wondering what she had ever done to deserve to have someone like Anne walk into her life and look at her like she had hung the stars.

Catherine was ok with not knowing the answer to that. But what she did know what that she had no intention of ever letting her go.

[ruddcatha]

Guardian Chapter 3

Again, Thanks and appreciation to @heavenin--hell​ for the inspiration for this story, i hope to do her work the justice it deserves.  

If you would like to be tagged when updates get posted, please let me know!

Chapter 3 is live on Ao3 here and FFN here.

Totosai looked at the silver and red figure before him, his thoughts racing.  He had known that the Council was waiting for the guardian, but he had never thought that he would be the first one to meet him. No one had known where the guardian and his companions had been sealed, nor when they would be awoken.  Only the name that had been passed down, told only to members of the council when they received their mark, had allowed Totosai to address the dog eared hanyou.  He watched golden eyes narrow as he felt sweat forming on the back of his neck, and he fought to keep control of his facial features in a desperate attempt to keep his thoughts from showing.  Totosai felt his throat go dry, it was one thing to hear of the legends, it was another altogether to be faced with it, staring at you with threatening eyes and a soft growl echoing.

Totosai took a deep breath, “My name is Totosai, my Lord, a member of the Human/Yokai Council, it is a pleasure to welcome you and pledge the allegiance of the council to your cause.”  He exhaled; thankful he had remembered the formal words that had been drilled into him 40 years prior.  He glanced at Inuyasha, confused when all Inuyasha did was tilt his head, the growl becoming louder.  Totosai closed his eyes ‘god I’m an idiot’ he thought to himself.   He knew from his training that the Taisho clan had disappeared approximately 500 years prior, yet he had automatically used modern Japanese. He repeated the introduction using the late middle Japanese manner of speaking, sighing in relief as the growling eased and Inuyasha’s form began to relax.

The soft sound of footsteps broke through the silence, and in a blur of movement, Inuyasha vanished from his sight.  “Professor?” Totosai turned to see Kagome standing in the doorway, “are you coming to join us?”  “I’m on my way, sorry, I was distracted for a moment.”  Totosai turned to follow Kagome out the door, his thoughts drifting back to Inuyasha.  ‘We never considered the language differences… god what idiots we were.’ He groaned internally, if the Guardian had awoken, that meant a series of events had been put into motion, and they needed to find a way to address the language changes… and fast.  

Inuyasha watched from his alcove as the dark-haired woman and the man who called himself Totosai ‘what kind of name is that?’ left the chamber. Silently he jumped to the ground, moving cautiously to the door to listen for any others in the area.  Reaching the door, he could smell the faint scents of the others who had been in the shrine fading,  Only two scents stood out to him, the sweat he had smelled off that ‘Totosai’ when he had faced Inuyasha (Inuyasha’s lip curled into a smirk at the thought), and the smell of vanilla mixed with roses.  The floral scent called to him, calming him without his realizing it as it lingered in the air.  He knew instinctively that it was the scent of the dark-haired woman, the one who had broken his seal.  Inuyasha had never had a fading scent affect him so much, and he narrowed his eyes, annoyed at the distraction.  

Keeping to the shadows, he slowly crept towards the stairs leading out of the shrine, his ears focused, listening for any indication that his approach had been heard by the group of humans sitting outside in the forest. The scent of vanilla and roses grew stronger, now mixed in with the smells of the other humans and the forest. His nostrils flared at some unfamiliar scents… he did not know what they were, but for some reason the scent made his mouth water.  He jumped towards the ceiling, landing on one of the support beams near the entrance, listening to the group outside.  He could hear their conversation but was only able to understand small snippets of what was being said, the language both familiar and foreign.  He stilled as the voices grew louder, and he heard movement coming towards his hiding spot.  He knew that he could not be seen, when the shrine had been built he had helped with the design, purposefully including hiding spots in each area for when he would be awoken to fulfill his mission, specifically for this purpose, to watch those who had awoken him.

He eased himself into a seated position among the rafters, he knew it would not be safe to jump down until the group left again.  He watched the group separate and enter different sections of the structure.  He had not expected there to be such a large group nearby when he awoke, and even with Totosai’s introduction.  He did not know who this “council” was that the older gentleman had spoken of.  As far as Inuyasha knew, no one was to know of where they were located until they were awoken… although Inuyasha admitted that he had not paid much attention to the actual planning.  His strengths lay in battle planning and physical work, not subtly and what he considered to be stealth.  Given the events that lead him to be there, he wanted to make sure it was safe before he took the next steps that had been entrusted to him.

One member of the group, the only other female, stayed in the hallway, Inuyasha watching her every movement.  The lantern light glinted off her long brown hair, and if he was not mistaken, her movements seemed to reflect combat training, she moved with a lethal grace.  Yet he felt nothing more than curiosity towards her.  Her actions were puzzling to him, she would approach the decorations and braziers of the shrine, but all she did was take a piece of parchment and a strange writing instrument and make notes.  Occasionally, she would take a small rectangular object out, which would emit a bright, almost blinding flash of light, before she hid it again, almost like magic.  The first time he saw the bright light he had to fight not to yelp, his eyes were still adjusting to light and it had HURT DAMNIT, but he managed to hold the sound in. He began to relax as he realized she seemed to be doing little more than identifying what was in the hallway, she did not appear to be trying to take any of the objects or look for specific markings on any of the vessels.  There was only one vessel in the entire structure he gave a damn about, and he knew that it was not in the hallway.

He did not know how much time had passed before the woman he was watching was joined by the dark-haired woman and Totosai.  “Find anything interesting Kagome?” the brown-haired woman said, uncurling from her crouched position.  The dark-haired woman… ‘no, Kagome’ he thought, associating what sounded like a name with the owner of seductive sent of vanilla and roses who was laughing, looking up at her friend.  “Everything in here is interesting Sango.” Kagome gushed, looking around her with wide eyes. This close to the entrance Inuyasha could see sunlight catching her eye, and he felt himself being drawn into her deep chocolate eyes.  She looked so small between ‘Sango’ and Totosai, both stood several inches taller than her. She looked almost like a doll, too perfect to be real, yet her voice sounded so soothing to him, even when he could not understand what was being said.   He closed his eyes, allowing an unfamiliar sense of... something.  ‘Is this what others mean by peace?’ he mused, almost amused at the effect just the sound of her voice had on him.  

All too soon her voice faded, causing Inuyasha’s eyes to snap open, his eyes scanning the hallway as he sought out her scent, following it back to the entrance.  He waited, his ears focused on the fading voices before he caught an unfamiliar and loud growl… no two growls.  He jumped down from his perch, moving slowly up the stairs, flexing his claws in anticipation of a fight.  As he ascended the stairs, his eyes and ears were focused on his surroundings, looking for signs of danger.  He paused as he saw the group of humans standing around two strange metal objects.  He growled slightly, two of the humans, Totosai and a boy that he had not noticed before, seemed to be sitting in the metal beast.  Before he could move, he saw Kagome and Sango move towards one of the beasts, his eyes went wide as they seemed to willingly allow themselves to be swallowed by it. The growl from the metal beasts turned into roars as they ran off with their prey. Letting off a furious growl of his own Inuyasha leapt from his hiding spot and raced after the beasts… but no matter how fast he ran the beasts were faster.  Inuyasha stood in the middle of the wide cleared area and stared dejectedly as the beasts faded out of view, his ears drooping to the top of his head.  He felt a pain around his heart that he had never felt before, and all he could think, without knowing why, was ‘I… just found her… to lose her…’

Inuyasha turned and slowly made his way back to the shrine.   He felt like he was being split in two, one half of him was in mourning for a woman he had technically never met, the other half trying to convince him he would see her again.  He knew there was only one person who could help explain what was happening and why he felt that way, and each step took him closer to those answers, but further away from finding and protecting her.  He found himself staring up at the statute of Inu No Taisho. “Father” he whispered, “I need your help.”

Inuyasha moved back towards the pedestal where he had been sealed then stepped to the wall directly behind it.  He softly tapped a pattern on the wall, releasing a hidden door to reveal a small shelf in the wall, containing a single shimmering dagger.  Inuyasha gently reached out to take the dagger in his hand. The hilt felt warm in his grasp, despite having been locked away for a yet unknown number of years.  Dagger in his hand, Inuyasha moved back in front of his father, looking up at the familiar face.  

“Blood to awaken blood, the son calls the father.”  Using the dagger, Inuyasha cut open his palm, placing the cut over the heart of the statue in front of him.  He waited, watching for the signs of his father’s awakening, the silver sheen of stone to fade into the flush of life.

And he waited.

And waited.

Nothing.  With a cry Inuyasha pulled his hand back, the cut already healed.

“No No NO NO NONONOONONO” he yelled, slashing his hand, and placing it back on the statue.  Again, there was no reaction.  In desperation, he ran to the statue with two face strips and a crescent moon, slicing his palm again “Blood to awaken blood, brother calls to brother.”  He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his earlier sorrow mixed with fear.  He had only had one task in this process… just one… and he had fucking failed.  He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.  He knew what the consequences of his failure would be.  The end of everything, and the destruction of humans and demons alike.   In one short period of time he had lost… everything.  The only woman who was able to calm his thoughts was lost to a metal beast, the likes of which he had never seen, and his father and brother lost to a seal that could never be broken.  

Inuyasha lifted his head, his gaze turning to his left to look along the wall.  He took a deep breath to calm himself, knowing that despite his failure, there was still an important object here that needed to be guarded, even if he now had to guard it alone.  He forced himself to stand, walking over to the wall and tracing the memorized steps until he reached a sealed vessel… that was no longer sealed.  If he thought he had felt fear before, it was nothing compared to the terror that gripped him in that moment, looking at the small crack in the vessel.  That crack meant the seal would no longer hold… him.  Ryukotsusei, the dragon daiyokai.  His eyes closed, the weight of everything crashing down upon him.  He knew that there were still two other seals, but he had no idea where they had been placed for safekeeping.  But even the one seal being broken meant Ryukotsusei would be able to begin to learn, to adapt, and that meant less time for him to prepare.  It was never supposed to be just on him… he was supposed to have his father and brother with him, the powerful Inu yokai pack together with their allies for the upcoming battle.  He clenched his jaw, looking at the sealed forms of his father and his brother Sesshomaru. Even if he did not have them with him, he would still complete their task, he knew it would be a little (more than a little he grudgingly admitted) harder without them, but their objective was too important.  

[redmxnn]

The Prince (Tom Holland Royal AU Part 10)

Pairing: Royal Tom x royal reader

Description: A Tom Holland Royalty AU, where you are a princess and he is a prince. Your family is forced to agree to an arranged marriage between both you and Tom. What could happen? LAST PART BBYS

Word count: 1479

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

The sun glistened against the pale glass of the window. The rolling green hills passing by for what felt like a lifetime. The gentle vibration of the engine that powered the car could be felt in your feet that rested on the floor.

 “Y/N,” the soft voice of your mother caused you to look away from the grass bathing in the sunlight outside and towards her. She tentatively smiled and reached a hand onto your knee. Your rose-filled eyes looked towards hers. A peaceful smile was rested on your lips. She returned a smile back at you as she slightly pinched your leg in a comforting way. You looked from her to your father who was sat across from both of you.

His head was hiding in his shoulders, hesitant to look up. A sad smile replaced yours. You always loved to look in your fathers eyes. They were large blue pools of hope. He was always happy, always curious and his eyes always proved that. As a child you would always climb up into his lap and stare into his pupils. Trying to find your own reflection in the shiny black dots. However today, his eyes seemed dull, quiet, reserved. There was nothing there that you recognised. 

He gently cleared his throat, regaining your focus on the now. “Y/n,” he paused, “I’m very proud of you in everything you’ve done,” He spoke slowly, giving every word its complete purpose. “i’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you during this difficult time, for all of us.” You nodded your head in understanding. This was hard for him too. He had to give up his only daughter knowing it wasn’t something that you willingly wanted to do. He sacrificed your happiness. That’s not an easy decision for a loving parent to make.

You reached over to grab his hand. You squeezed it gently as his fingers fell next to yours. You said nothing, just looked into his eyes. Spotting your reflection in his, a smile rested back on your lips. It’s okay you thought. This is all okay now. 

The engine of the car began to slow down as crowds of people formed outside the windows. You inhaled a sharp breathe as your stomach twitched in nervousness. “Here we go,” you whispered as you closed your eyes and felt the engine stop completely. This is is. No running away now. 

-

A quiet murmur of people chatting filled the church. You were anxiously waiting near the entryway. Family, friends and special guests had all taken their seats and were waiting for you. All these people were going to be watching you. Your hands felt clammy, your feet felt sore, your brain felt frazzled while your heart rate increased. Your eyes couldn’t focus on anything as your brain raced through a series of thoughts. This isn’t going to work. Everyone is going to know that it's fake. I’m a fake. This is all going to fail. Tom’s going to hate me. And on and on they went. Your thoughts filling your mind, suffocating. 

“Hi,” A small voice broke into your mind. A tiny hand fought its way into yours. You looked down confused. One of the flower girls had managed their way to stand right beside you, possibly standing on your train, but that doesn’t matter right now. Her tiny hand squeezed yours as she beamed up at you. Your face relaxed at her innocence. She was so happy, not a care in the world. “You look so pretty, I’m so excited for you!” 

“Really? I’m honestly ready to put my pjs on,” You let your breath go in a weightless motion. She giggled at your honest reply. “Me too,” She matched your energy. The gentle strum of a violin began to fill your ears. A melody started on a piano as the orchestra picked up. You moved to stand at the end of the walkway. Breathe in. The little girl rushed back to her spot, somewhat tripping on your long dress. Breathe out. 

Hundreds of people rose in their chairs. That’s your cue. Stepping forward you looked straight ahead. People turned to look at you, you focused only on what was ahead. Standing, what felt like was so far out of reach, stood The Celebrant, Tom, his family and yours. The closer you got the more you could see. Your family had turned to face you, cheerful smiles as they watched you near. Tom and his family remained facing away from you. They were a family that upheld all royalty rules. They were. 

With about 20 steps until you reached him, Tom turned around to face you. 

His naturally curly hair had been styled backwards to show off his face. His boyish freckles danced across his cheeks. His muscular frame was still somehow noticeable in his all black suit. His brown eyes crinkled as a smile spread across his face. You tried to hide the blushing giggle that formed. A sweet smile couldn’t help but creep onto your face. You stopped focusing on your steps, stopped focusing on all the people looking at you, stopped focusing on this heavy and tight dress. It didn’t matter. Tom was being Tom. He broke the fucking rules. 

His stupid, gorgeous smile made everything else disappear. Tom was all you cared about, all that mattered.

-

“Good afternoon friends, family, guests and the beautiful people of Holland,” The royal official spoke. After the ceremony there is always a formal announcement to the city, welcoming the new royal couple. A mere 10 minutes after saying ‘I do’ you’re on top of a balcony saying ‘hello, I’ll be your queen one day,’ to thousands of people who have very very high expectations of you. Talk about romantic. 

You and Tom were stood directly behind the glass doors, a sliver of material blocking you from the crowds. Tom stood as close as he physically could to you. His hand was tightly gripped in yours, his shoulders nudged right against yours. He quickly but silently shuffled in his spot. You giggled at his closeness, was he nervous? His hand pulled away from yours as it reached up to his chin. “Can you…?” Tom whispered shyly.

You scoffed at the coincidence, “Really?” “What?” Tom blurted out not connecting the dots to your previous encounter that was all too similar for you. “Do you need help with your tie?” You asked mockingly. “Yes,” He whispered back embarrassed. You giggled at his cute boyish nature reaching up to help him with the expensive fabric wrapped around his neck. “You would be helpless without me,” You teased. “Why do you think I married you darling?” Tom smirked down at you. His hands reached yours as you finished. Your eyes looked up to his confused by his action. “Hey,” He whispered. “Hi,” you replied matching his demeanor, looking up into his eyes. Tom went to speak but paused, his eyes darting towards the door. You watched his eyes move frantically back towards yours. “Hey,” He repeated nervously. 

“I would like to welcome you all, Prince Tom Holland and Princess “Y/n Holland,” The voice of the royal official could barely be heard of the intense atmosphere you and Tom had created around yourselves. You were both in a bubble, looking into each others eyes, not knowing who’s going to move first. 

“I think I love you Y/N,” Tom continued ignoring the rustling of people beside you. The doors were quickly opened revealing you to the world. The sunlight shone on both of you, lighting up the view for the crowds. Cheers began to erupt in the crowd as the townspeople got there first glimpse of the royal couple. You were ushered to walk forward and address the people. Smile and wave and act all proper in love, that was your instructions. But you and Tom didn’t do anything. You both stood there lost in each others eyes. His words rung over and over in your head. 

Your lips edged upwards in the faintest of smiles. Toms eyes fell from yours to your lips, noticing your small movement. That was all he needed. His warm hand reached up to behind your neck, balancing the weight of your head. His honey-like lips reached yours in a tender and wholesome kiss. His lips meeting yours, feeling at home. 

A loud cheer broke out in the crowd. You pulled away from Tom, smiling heavenly. You blushed at your public display. Tom noticed your slight embarrassment and giggled while stepping forward to block you from the crowds. He turned and faced you, only you. “Now let me tell everyone else I love you,” You beamed at his words, stepping forward to place your hand in his. “Hey Tom,” you whispered. “Yeah?” Tom leaned down slightly to hear your whisper. “I think I love you too.”

Let me know your thoughts! I would love to have a chit chat x

Taglist: @butithasntkilledyouyet @loxbbg@wifunozomi@loricwizardbluetoastedcake@thecolorfulunknown@slytherpuffyy @holland-in-disguise@reblogsfics @casualprincess77 @phluffyphantom @kallimendes @steamyimpala  @h-oneyholland @radioblah-blah @bbyxk 

Author’s note: I wanted to say a massive thank you to anyone who took the time to read, like or comment on any part of this fic. I never expected for it to receive the amount of appreciation that it did. I am truely so thankful for all of you guys, thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoyed this while it lasted and I may or may not be working on something else already shh. 

[morphituu]

Milagro

Chapter 10: “Fight or Flight”

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8  - 9 

Nick was ready to rip the electronic payphone from the ground when the line started ringing, so he angrily exhaled, looking over his shoulder. It had taken a great deal of patience and an even greater summoning of what little spanish he could recall to navigate the prompts before even connecting the call, all of which left him ready to rip something to pieces.

He kept thinking Callie had caught onto his curious questions from that morning after eyeing him curiously and vaguely answering his numerous inquiries. If she caught him like this, she’d likely castrate him-

The line clicked.

“Hello?”

“Matuk?” Nick cautiously regarded.

There was hesitation. “Munguz?”

“Hey kid,”

“What’s with the new number?” Matuk queeried, and Nick could hear the chaos of his younger siblings in the background. Of course I catch him in the middle of shit.

“It’s a long story,” he chose to convey in lieu of fitting 2 chaotic days into one breath. “Listen, I need a favor. A big one,”

“Oookay,” Matuk sounded apprehensive.

“Can you come get Callie from the border? We uh… we got mixed up in some weird shit, and I can’t get into details, but she can’t be here. And she needs to be hidden,” Nick leaned against the phone box’s side, his index and thumb rubbing over his tired eyes.

“What border?”

“Mexico,” Nick cringed.

He heard the beginnings of words from the other end, but Matuk faltered before asking, “Hidden? Like hidden hidden?”

“No, like- she can’t be out in public,”

“What did you two do-” Mauk questioned skeptically.

“I promise I’ll tell you eventually but right now I just need to know if you can come get her. She cannot be here in the condition she’s in,” Nick barked out, impatience lining his tone.

“I mean, yeah, yeah I can come get her, but I don’t think she’s gonna stay put for too long, dude,” Matuk sighed, recalling the numerous times he’d been set to work keeping an eye on her after a pregnancy scare early on in her first trimester. Matuk quickly came to learn that when Callie felt crowded, her attitude would grow faster than her irritation, often spitting sour remarks in hopes of backing people off. “Is she gonna come willingly?”

When there was silence, Matuk sputtered low in Orkish.

“I’m not giving her the choice to stay,”

“How am I gonna get her to stay then?” the younger Orc groaned, pulling the phone away to silence his rambunctious siblings.

“Handcuff her to something if you have to, but Matuk, don’t let her out of your sight. She can’t be left alone,”

The noisiness from Matuk’s end faded, and Nick could hear the faint closing of a door. “Do I need to tell Dorghu about this?”

Nick closed his eyes. That thought had crept to the forefront of his mind the night prior as he laid awake, restless and staring at their door or window, but didn’t know how involving the Fogteeth would affect their situation.

“No. Not yet, at least,” Nick decided. It was mostly because he didn’t deem it fit to have any more bodies involved, but Nick also feared for his own life and the ones around him. Dorghu had shot him once over a wand, who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again? “I just need you to come get her,”

“Okay. It’s gonna take a few hours,” Matuk agreed.

“Maybe that’ll be enough time for Callie to burn out after I tell her,” he groaned, pulling his hand down his face.

“Have fun with that. Be there soon,” Matuk was already pulling his boots on when he wiggled the phone back into his palm.

“Thanks.” He mumbled before the line went dead, and he placed the phone back onto its holder. Now that he was faced with having to somehow convince Callie to leave without him- after their discussion from the night before, no less- he didn’t know if he had it in his heart to remain resilient when telling her. He already knew there’d be panic, and sadness, even more betrayal.

But how could he watch her leave knowing there might not be another chance to see her? What if this went on and on, and he wasn’t there to see the birth of his son?

Nick could physically feel his heart clench.

What if there was never the time to see her smiling up at him with Leo in her arms?

That alone was almost enough to leave him breathless, but he couldn’t keep thinking like that. Even if he was never able to hold Leo in his arms or look into Callie’s eyes again, then at least they’d have each other. There was no way he could go on bearing the thought alone that they could be ripped from his grasp at any moment.

Nick’s hands ran over his smooth scalp to the back of his neck as he walked, his feet heavy with dread and heart conflicted.

The desire to snap his eyes open and it all just be a fucking nightmare was crushing.

The selfish desire to keep her near him was just as powerful.

Nick stopped beside a curb, hunkering down to squat, holding his face. Where the decision had been obvious that morning, it was not apparent to Nick until that instant just how much willpower this was going to suck out of him.

“Nick?”

He looked up enough to catch Ward walking towards him with a few bags of groceries at his side, but Nick’s head fell back into his hands.

“What’s up?” Daryl asked, the Orcs dismay obvious once he’d stood. “What happened?”

“Nothing. I got ahold of him,” Nick explained. Daryl understood; Nick had filled him in on his plan while they walked to the market for food to take along with them on their journey. “I just-” Nick exhaled, a hand on his chest, turning away. “I didn’t think-”

“Yo, okay, sit down,” Ward turned him back around, ushering him towards the high curb. “Sit your big ass down, c’mon,” he pushed against his wide shoulders until the Orc sat, struggling to slow his ragged breathing.

“Deep breaths,” Ward instructed calmly, leaving a comforting hand upon his back. He waited with patience as his normally composed friend fought to conquer an episode he’d likely experienced little of his entire life, judging by the way he glanced around them in panic, as if something was causing the assault his mind was the direct cause of.

“First panic attack?” Daryl asked, but Nick was still trembling, counting backwards in his head through the rampaging thoughts that together made a swirling storm of anguish. “Get ready for those when you’re a dad,”

“That’s it, though. What if I don’t get that chance?” Nick choked out, but with his face hidden in his hands, Ward couldn’t see the rampant emotions twisting his face. “All this time it took to get where we are and now I don’t even know if I’ll get to see what my son looks like,”

Daryl nodded, looking out to the street packed with ongoing life, oblivious to their turmoil or the danger that could be lurking around any given corner. He placed the groceries between his feet, leaning forward onto his knees as he looked at the eggs in the bag. It could’ve been any morning he was off buying food for his own wife and daughter.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see Sophia again,” Daryl said calmly, hooking Nick’s attention enough that he unburied his face from his palms. “At first I worried about Kandomere harassin’ them, but now I can’t stop thinking that I should’ve just gone to dinner with them. We… we’ve been fighting lately. Shit stirs up sometimes, you know? We have months where we vibin’ and everything is perfect, and then we have weeks where we can barely look at each other and fight over stupid, dumb shit. Now I can’t stop thinking…” Ward paused to motion with his hands, as if trying to pull the words from himself. “I can’t stop thinking that she must think I left. That I gave up,”

Nick sat straighter. “You wouldn’t do that,”

“I wouldn’t, but she came home to an empty house after 2 weeks of endless fighting. I keep thinking my little girl must feel abandoned, and I can’t do anything to comfort her this far away,” Daryl’s tone was bleak, much like the absence in his eyes as he stared before himself. “But that’s why I need to get back, that’s my drive,”

Nick’s eyes met his. “That’s why you need to make it back. Forget that Callie would tear you to pieces if you go and get your ass killed,” he nudged Nick, provoking the smallest grin from him. “You owe it to your kid. He can’t go growin’ up without his dad. He’s half a you, and he’s gonna need you. He’ll grow up with questions even Callie can’t answer which is why you need to fight with all you got,”

“What if I still don’t make it back?” Nick wavered, but Daryl shoved him that time.

“Don’t even think about that. Make it home. That boy’s gonna have your blood and last name, but he still needs his father,”

Nick nodded despite still feeling whichever road he decided to venture down would inevitably bring heartache, but with both ends having no known outcome, all he could do was choose one and get walking.

“Cal’s gonna hate me,” he muttered.

“Let her. But in the end, she’s just gon’ be happy to have y’alls life back how it’s supposed to be,”

Daryl was right. “Either make you or break you,” Nick mumbled, and now his partner nodded avidly. “We should head back,”

“Y’alright?” Daryl held his shoulder before he could rise, wary of his stability, but Nick waved him off.

“Better than I’ll be in ten minutes.” Nick grumbled.

The men walked mostly in silence the small trek back to the house, constantly on alert but otherwise blending well into the life around them. TJ was full of tourists as it is, so they looked like any other foreigner.

They arrived at the house sooner than Nick had anticipated, still not knowing how he was going to present this, or more so, how he was going to get her to the border kicking and screaming, because he knew that was the only way she was going.

Tikka and Fero were bickering at the far end of the inner yard once the officers had walked through the heavy door, but neither cared to even try stopping them. Both would agree that they didn’t want anymore of their issues than had already been dropped in their laps, so they moved inside. By the looks of it at passing glance, it was a particularly sour topic. Fero’s head shook with restraint just as Tikka’s hands motioned here and there.

Don’t want any of that.

Nick didn’t find Callie until he peeked into the room they’d been using, and his decision was solidified as soon as he laid eyes on her gripping the bed frame with one hand and other other holding her stomach, an eye pinched shut in discomfort.

More Braxton Hicks.

“Hey,” she ground out.

“Bad one?” he asked, but she disagreed.

“He kicked right into one,” she motioned around her lower stomach, exhaling slowly when it passed. “If I sit down he protests,” Callie labored, swaying side to side. He almost forgot his motive when the desire to run his hands over her moving belly rushed him, but a quick glance at the window like he’d done countless times the night before brought it back.

Nick swallowed, smoothing his shirt down his front.

“I need to talk to you,” he spoke in such a way that sent alarming chills down her spine immediately, so she turned to him, waiting with big eyes full of uncertainty.

“I called Matuk,”

The shift of emotions on her face was immediate, a stiff step back putting distance between them that Nick immediately wanted to close. “No,”

“He said-”

“No,” she interrupted.

“He’d come get you at the border,”

“You swore-” she jabbed her finger towards him as he approached, stepping from his reach. “You promised-”

“I promised I’d keep you two safe,” Nick pleaded, still reaching.

“How are we safe if we’re not with you?” she boomed.

“You can’t be here! You need to be home-”

“There’s no home to go to, Nick! How do you expect me to go and just wait for you? Not knowing what’s going on?” she demanded, pushing his hands away.

His brows arched into a deeper glare, and he mustered every brittle fiber of courage he had. “You’re going home. You have no say this time,”

Now she walked up on him, glaring just as heatedly as he did down at her. “You can’t make me,” was all she hissed before turning heel, heading towards the door.

“What’ll you do if we’re attacked and you go into labor?”

She stopped at the door to shoot him an unamused look. “Seriously?”

Nick crossed the room in a few wide steps, meeting her steadfast form. “What will you do?”

“Push him out. I can handle it,” she jerked her chin in his direction, on the verge of growling at him as he continued to provoke her.

“You’re going to walk around with Leo in your arms after that? On the run, no doctors? A premature baby?”

Now she faltered, picturing a too small bundle of love in her arms, screaming at the top of his lungs… or maybe gasping for air. “I’ll protect him,” she dithered.

“He’s still too small, he needs doctors,”

“I’ll find one,” she blurted out before comprehending how ridiculous that was, and Nick’s twisted expression showed it.

“He’ll cry. They’ll follow his screams and fire at us- at him,” Nick forced out, his own crude words sinking his heart. When her eyes glossed over and her bottom lip quivered, he struggled to keep his composure. “You’ll be putting him in danger,”

Her eyes narrowed, stepping closer, leaning up on her tip-toes. “Don’t you dare put that on me. This, all of this is your fault,” she ground out, shoving against his chest, but Nick’s solid form was unmoving as he grabbed her wrist.

“And now I’m fixing it,”

She tried to yank her arm back, but his grip was mighty, even as she threw some of her weight into it.

“Let me go!” she hollered, but he snatched her other arm as she thrashed and pushed against him. “Nick let me go-”

“You have to leave! Don’t do this, Callie! If it were you-” he blocked a hit, “If it were you in my shoes would you let me stay with Leo?” he yelled over her protests, catching her shoulders. “Would you let that happen?”

Nick wanted to cry. He wanted to fall apart and hold her as she looked up at him with eyes glazed over in fear, and hurt, and… betrayal. Surely he didn’t think of this as that, but that obviously didn’t stop it from crawling it’s way up her frame to take hold of her heart.

“If there’s no other way I can stop this, then I’m not going to drag you two down with me. I need you two safe and alive,” Nick implored.

“I can’t-” she choked, but he shook his head. “Nick I can’t! I can’t do this without you!”

“I’ll be back, I don’t know when but I’ll always come back to you,”

“How can you guarantee that? We could die at any moment- any turn we take, that’s why you’re sending me away! How do you know you’ll come home?” she demanded, following his head when the questions left him searching blindly.

It was true. There was no guarantee he’d come home, but he couldn’t send her off with that.

“What if you don’t come back?”

The desperation in her eyes was painful, the fear shaking her voice. Nick held her sides, his thumbs stroking as he looked down at her stomach.

His face tightened; he almost couldn’t bare to send her away. “Then you’ll always have part of me with you.” But she was already weeping, her fingers curling into his shirt before he could stop tears springing forth to his own eyes.

“No,” she shoved away from him suddenly, hastily wiping her tears from her cheeks and receding into pure fury. “I’m not fucking leaving. I’m not going to leave and sit and stare out the window waiting for you to come home!” she screamed, swiping his hands away.

“Callie-”

“No! I’m not going to let you do this-”

The explosion knocked them both off their feet, and thankfully Callie flung forward right into his arms before they hit the floor.

It left their ears ringing and dust hovering over them. Nick kept her down until enough cleared that he could see the door she’d been standing before had splintered open, some of the wall crumbling and cracked, but it was nothing compared to the completely obliterated hallway that was now an entrance to the outside.

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, finally moving from over her to help her stand. She nodded, coughing past the dust and smoke while Nick patted her down.

Another resonating explosion that trembled through the ground beneath their feet prompted him to shield her from the door and wall crumbling before him as the chaos ensued outside. Distant, slurred shouts from both Tikka and Fero could be heard, but upon daring a glance down the hall, only more damage befell him.

Callie looked around his shoulder, her heart plummeting when she laid eyes on the home that was the foundation of her greatest childhood memories, now cracked apart, reduced to it’s bones.

“Nick!”

The couple flinched at the voice beside them, but they moved aside just as Ward ran into their room from his own destroyed one, blood carving a path down his face.

“What the fuck is going on?” Nick hissed, the three sheilding their heads when there was another blast.

“He found us-”

There was only a ringing in his ears left after that one.

A blast strong enough to have scattered them about the room, hidden amongst the broken roof and smoke. He shielded his eyes from the debris falling over him, his limbs heavy and vision patchy.

Get up.

Nick groaned; he didn’t want to. His body protested completely. Had he ever felt so fatigued before?

Callie came skidding into his line of sight after staring at the sky through the broken roof, shaking him violently until he lazily looked at her.

His hairless brows furrowed. Why is she bleeding?

She was screaming, that much was obvious. So panicked, yanking at his big body violently as she continued to scream. He tried to stop her, but his eyes were slowly shutting despite the annoying booms around him vibrating harshly through the wooden floors beneath his body.

The dark when he shut his eyes was comforting; it closed out the noise-

His eyes sprung open after a sharp slap whipped across his cheek, and he met Callie’s panicked face again.

“Get the fuck up!” she screamed, pulling on his shoulders.

With the sound returning to his ears brought throbbing to his head and shoulder, and he growled viciously when she pulled on him again into an upright position. He looked- something had driven itself into his shoulder, probably a splinter from the roof. The blood ran warm down his arm, but he looked back to Callie frantically.

“You’re hurt!” he choked, holding her head. Somewhere there was something open, letting blood run freely down the side of her face and neck.

“Get up, we have to go!” she demanded, standing to lean back into her hoisting until he was standing wobbly, trying to steady himself.

“C’mere,” he called, wincing through the weight of the pain ringing through his head, pulling Callie under his arm as they cautiously crept towards the door. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He took off, I don’t know,”

Nick kept her at arms length as he stepped into the cluttered hall, sweeping over anything visible with blurry eyes. He motioned her over, kept behind him as they made their way down, peering cautiously into rooms that were in shambles.

The living room was turned inside out, a wall caved in and water spewing from broken piping, but behind that small fountain was Daryl crouched behind the split table.

“Daryl-”

“Shh!” he hissed, pointing urgently towards the broken windows lining the living room. Cautiously, Nick peered around the corner to look out into the yard.

Where he hoped to see Tikka or Fero was instead a stranger.

An Orc, bearing injuries that bled freely and an aggravated wand in his grasp. He was calm as he canvassed the area despite the heaving breaths Nick could see him taking, and he flinched back from sight just as the intruder turned to face the windows.

Nick pushed Callie into a room, shielding her behind the door as he pressed himself tight to the wall across from her.

Callie held a hand over her own mouth, pinching her eyes shut.

She fought internally to fight the urge to bolt, digging her nails into her palm where her body shook violently.

A heavy step entered the house, and she looked at Nick with wide, terrified eyes.

He mouthed something to her, but she couldn’t decipher it.

A figure running by the window caused her to flinch, her foot shooting out and hitting the door. Nick pulled her away before he even considered if it was heard above the cracking of the house, and shoved her deep into the closet he was beside, closing the door before she could reach for him.

“Makhel! Stop!” a female voice broke through the silence in the living room. “Stop this-”

“Get off!” Nick heard the booming voice of the stranger, than the telltale drop of a body hitting the floor and sliding across the debris. “You wish to stop me now?”

“They have nothing to do with this!” the female voice cried, and there was more shuffling, the grunts of struggling and a recognizable ringing of a wand.

“They helped her-”

“They’re no one!”

A high-pitched shot cracked through lingering dust around them, and silence filled the air again as Nick knelt down, shielded by the door and glancing at the closet Callie was still concealed in.

Another figure came bolting by the window, but there was familiarity in this one.

“Makhel!” That was Tikka, winded, frantic. “No- what’ve you done!?”

“She fed into your deceit-”

“Mahkel-”

“She…” the male’s voice was shaking, heavier breaths following his slurred words. “What did you do to her?”

A crack of thunder broke the air around them, and Nick jerked from the door when a broad body came flying against the door frame, falling to the floor before him.

Gold eyes met each other, and Nick finally was face to face with the rogue Bright; the Orc who was unbridled.

Nick did not flinch, or run, or move in the slightest as he slowly rose before him, their eye contact never breaking despite the wand glowing ominously in his palm. When he was straightened, Nick almost felt like laughing.

He was so fucking young. It pissed him off; what could have happened to this tike to make him so vicious? To literally hunt them like they were game? Killing, destroying- what?

It pulled his lips back over his teeth, growling lowly and shoulders hunching as Makhel fired back his own growl, flashing his impressive tusks. The fury eating away at him was evident just looking at this individual. It burned in his eyes, came off of him in potent waves. If there hadn’t been an active wand in his hand, Nick would’ve lunged by now, the fierce protectiveness shooting to every limb like pins and needles.

Now, they were in a classic Orkish standoff, calculating, waiting, planning, snarly and growls ripping through them like the Earth cracking, but any sound coming through the breaking house was drowned by the pounding in his ears. He was zeroed in, ready to launch forward, all the while comprehending only two words:

Protect Leo.

Familiar thunder cracking around them didn’t make Nick flinch nearly as bad as Makhel, but just as the younger Orc’s head turned towards the door, Nick swung.

It all happened so quickly that by the time they’d landed in the dry, arid trench of a separate town nestled near some snowy mountains, it took a solid minute for Nick to understand what had happened.

Fero had been the one who Carried in, blocking Nick’s hit under his own arm.

When the Elf twisted him to turn towards the closet Callie was reaching desperately from, Nick caught sight of Mikhel reaching for them, jaw opened in a rageful holler, the wand thrusting all too close by Nick’s head. The world fell out beneath them, and in a flurry of flashes and wild colors, he’d been deposited into the dirt and rocks, the white-hot sun shocking him.

His vision was still shaking, his ribs sore from the deep, ragged breaths he was still choking in. Though his vision was tunneled and red, he found Callie quickly, struggling to sit up some feet from him.

“Cal-” he coughed, the pulses in his vision now a painful throb as he struggled to her.

Check your mate. He might’ve defiled her.

He shook his head clear of the intruding thoughts just as he reached her, carefully lifting her despite his arm seizing from the wound in his shoulder.

The slap across his cheek was almost enough to throw him off his footing, but once he realized it was Callie who had smacked him, he steadied, looking at her in horror.

“What the fuck was that!?” she screamed, coming after him again, but he blocked her blow.

“Callie what the-”

“You try to send me away!? Are you fucking kidding me!?” she continued to holler, shoving against his chest and hitting his arms that raised in defense. “What if you would’ve died in that attack and I wasn’t there!?” her voice started to break from her screaming, her hits weakening quickly.

“That’s exactly why I wanted to send you home!” he yelled back, grabbing thrashing arms. “Callie stop!”

“Fuck you! You could’ve died and I’d never be able to say goodbye!” she sobbed, hitting him in rapid succession a few more times before she stepped back from him, breathlessly. “You can’t-” she gasped, stumbling. “You can’t throw yourself away like that,”

Heat collected across Nick’s cheek, but he pushed that ire down. He’d never seen her so… hysterical.

He exhaled, reaching for her. “Callie-”

His reach was pushed away, her head shaking. “You don’t understand,” she breathed while leaning on her knees, head hung.

Blood dripped from the ends of her hair to the sand below her, her breaths as dry as the landscape around them.

“Is Leo-”

“Nick!”

They both turned, finding Ward some ways away, motioning for them to come towards him quickly.

Nick and Callie looked at one another before she stepped away first, struggling to balance over the rocky terrain. He offered his hand, but she withdrew any chance she got, always a few steps ahead of him.

When they came to where Ward, a strange scene unfolded before them.

“Who’s that?” Callie aked, staring at another woman laid in the shade of a low tree, her back turned to them while Tikka spoke softly to her, Fero scrambling to rip open a backpack.

“She was with him,” Ward said, arms crossed and dirty, some scrapes around his face. “With that fuckin’ Orc,”

They looked back. “What happened?”

“He found us,” Tikka looked up, grabbing some of the supplies from the backpack with bloody hands to rip open the packaging. “He casted a spell and it just,” she exhaled sharply, flattening out squares of gauze. “It took us by surprise,”

“He destroyed my parents house,” Callie mumbled, eyes cutting downwards.

“But why is she here?” Nick pressed.

“He fired at her,” Fero shot back, helping Tikka carefully turn Rania. They muffled her cries with a shirt, pushing her thighs down from her stomach when she tried to curl into a ball. A gruesome, gaping hole was blown into her stomach, blood staining the sand beneath her. Tikka’s eyes cut up to Ward.

“You didn’t help,” she ground out, pressing the gauze into her wound despite her cries heightening. Callie flinched.

Ward stuttered. “How-”

“You could’ve called the wand!” she snapped, lifting her hand to switch gauze. “I told you to!”

He tried to form words, his face tight in anger, but the truth was, he’d been scared, downright terrified looking that wildeyed Orc in the eye with a wand in his hand. “I couldn’t…”

“You could have! You’re lucky she got you out of there!” Tikka exclaimed, moving to gently hush Rania when she protested loudly as they continued to press into the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“But what the fuck happened?” Nick interrupted.

“He attacked us in the yard first before he started firing on the house,” Tikka explained, pressure resolute against her stomach. “We were split from Ward,”

“I was inside, after the roof caved in over you two,” Ward pointed to Nick and Callie. “I was in the living room n’... and he came in but he didn’t see me until she came runnin’ and he attacked her,”

“She Carried him here, and I followed so he couldn’t call my wand,” Tikka huffed, relieved to see the bleeding was slowing. “Fero was the last to find you two,”

“I came face to face with him,” Nick muttered, recalling those tense moments that were colored red.

Fero turned, nodding towards him. “He got your ear,”

Nick’s brows knit together, and when he moved to touch his ear, he was met with warm blood and intense stinging under his touch.

“He cut your ear,” Callie noted, cringing.

“How bad?” he exclaimed, and flinched when a roll of gauze hit his chest that he fumbled to catch.

“It’s half gone,”

“What!?” he yelled, searching frantically for anything reflective. But when he tried to twitch his ear, it was just… absent. Not even numb, just gone. Carefully he pinched along his ear until he was met with the pads of his own fingers instead of the point of an ear.

Constricted yelps from Rania brought them back to the real dilemma, watching her ball the shirt against her face as Tikka and Fero secured bandaging around her waist, doing their best to keep the sand from her bloody skin.

“Can’t you heal it?” Callie asked, but Tikka shook her head, face sorrowing.

“I can’t heal what another wand inflicts,” she rasped, at last finishing and pulling her ripped, stained shirt back down her stomach, reaching to smooth back her thick hair plastered against face. Now that the shirt was moved, they could see the short tusks and sparse coloring across her dark skin.

Rania grasped her hand shakily, nodding in silent thanks as she struggled to slow her breathing.

“We need to find cover,” Fero interjected gently, Tikka agreeing. “Can you stand?”

Rania looked to Fero in exhaustion, but she nodded determinedly, breathing deep before carefully curling forward with immense difficulty. The elves were there to ease her up as she yelped into a sitting position, a jacket thrown over her shoulders to mask some of the damage done to her by the time she made it to her feet, but Fero still pulled her arm behind his neck.

“Are you all okay?” Tikka asked, packing up the remainder of the back-pack. They all nodded despite their own blood and injuries covering them in various spots. Nothing could match up to a hole blown through the abdomen.

“C’mon then,” Fero jerked his head, slowly pulling Rania along, patient as she fought to take every step.

“Stay off the sidewalks until we find somewhere, I’ll go ahead,” Tikka called to him as she jogged onwards, leaving the others to trail behind him at Rania’s pace.

Nick looked on at Callie worriedly, itching to move her hair aside so he could find the source of the blood spilling down her cheek, but one cold glare from her kept his hands at his sides. She didn’t bother walking beside him, and instead stayed before him, glancing back when she’d stumble over a rock or lose balance.

You didn’t protect her.

Nick pinched his eyes shut, his head hanging as he walked after them. Shut up.

Following the barren dirt road lead them to a series of small houses, barely on their last legs and few inhabited, but the one Tikka chose looked to still have some kind of occupant despite being empty. Fresh fruit was on the battered wooden countertop, and a broom sat in the corner with dirt and dust swept across the concrete floors.

“I’ll take care of them if they come back,” she reassured. Neither knew what ‘taking care of’ entitled, but in all honesty, all of them were too shaken and exhausted to really care.

Rania was dragging her feet by the time Fero, with the help of Ward now, found an old, weathered couch to place her across. The wound had started to bleed again, running the length of her leg and turning her carob skin a few shades lighter. Sweat lined her completely, her wild hair drenched and loose shirt clung to her.

The girl was clearly in agony, her condition obviously worse than before. Vicious trembles racked down her form, and when she’d managed to open her eyes, the blood vessels were burst and staining the whites.

“That needs to be stopped,” Callie commented as she looked on at the soaking of Rania’s shirt. Who ever had been there had thankfully left a basket of clean laundry on the table, including a multitude of wash clothes that Callie scooped up before kneeling by the injured halfling.

“Be careful,” Nick reached for her, but Callie’s glare stopped him.

“What can she do like this?” she snapped, but now Nick had just as sour of an expression to lash back with.

“Are you serious?”

“Both of you shut up,” Tikka cut in, going about removing the soaked gauze.

“Stop-” Rania coughed, but it was too late.

Tikka’s hands withdrew, sitting back on her heels. When she looked at Rania’s pained eyes, swelling with tears, it was evident she’d already known her fate was sealed.

Callie had initially reached to apply pressure, but upon seeing the white, stone like flesh cinching around the wound that was already closing, she too withdrew, looking to Tikka.

“What is- what’s…?” she stuttered, but Tikka only moved to hold Rania’s hand.

The two looked at one another, the acceptance unwanted, but this far gone, there was nothing any of them could do. No doctor could reverse the damage already coursing its way through her body, inflicted by the one that had promised to throw his life down in protection.

“I tried to stop him,” Rania wept, but Tikka shook her head. “Ele se foi- sinto muito,”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Fero kneeled down, his hand placed of theirs.

“Eu poderia ter parado ele naquela noite,”

“No, Rania. Makhel was gone long before that. You’re not responsible for this,” Tikka held her face now, wiping away the tears that slipped down her round cheeks, her once vibrant hazel eyes shiting in depth as the cursed spell rampaged throughout her.

Rania nodded, doing her best to take a deep breath in, but coughed on the exhalation, blood pouring over her tusked lips.

Callie handed her the cloth, helping her lift her hand to her mouth.

Rania looked over the human slowly, her eyes lingering on her stomach. “I’m sorry to you, too,”

Callie’s brows furrowed. “He attacked your home. You’re,” Rania’s hand fell to hang off the couch, fingertips barely grazing her stomach as Nick lunged forward to pull Callie back.

“She won’t do anything!” Tikka barked, but Nick’s actions were resolute, unwilling to release Callie even as she pulled against his hold about her shoulders.

“I am sorry,” Rania craned her neck to look at Nick. “I am sorry,” she exhaled, falling back into a slump, her eyes sliding shut.

“You need to rest,” Tikka urged, speaking to her softly as Fero went about finding more cushions to ease her painful body as much as possible.

Callie at last got herself from under Nick’s hold, glancing back at him. He tried to soften his face, but irritation was starting to prick across his skin. She hadn’t given him any indication to her or Leo’s condition, and he assumed if he asked, even now, she’d give him little in her furious state.

He looked to Rania as Callie followed Ward deeper into the house, and he was surprised to see her looking up at him, barely conscious that was.

Though he tried to care less about the woman who’d been at the side of the Orc who nearly ended all of their lives, he couldn’t help but feel some sympathy.

The man she’d trusted turned on her, for what reason he didn’t know, but it wasn’t only that.

Staring her in the eyes struck a deep chord within him.

What’s to say his own halfling wouldn’t meet a similar fate? He knew how pushed they were to the brinks of society, how many times he'd been called to scenes of suicides to halflings that saw it as their only option left in the last days of their lives.

With a low chuff, he moved away, resilient in his efforts to stay near Callie until she brought down the wall she’d built between them.

Rania’s eyes followed him until he’d left the room, leaving her to look back to Tikka who was wiping around her wound carefully, riding the blood splashed across her skin. The marble coloration was spreading, but the bleeding had stopped, unlike the pain that would continue to increase.

“Is he the Orc?” she asked softly, her voice breaking.

Tikka nodded, a grin barely curling the corner of her mouth. “That’s the one,”

“He reminds me of my father,” she breathed, stiffly adjusting her head against the cushion.

Tikka finished, handing Fero the stained gauze and pulling the quilt thrown over the back of the couch over her, even moving her hair behind her pointed ears before grabbing her hand. “Do they know?”

Rania shook her head slowly, eyes still closed. “I haven’t spoken to them since that week before,”

“Rania,” she waited until her eyes cracked open. “You need to go home,”

“What’s the point? I’ll be dead before they can even make it here,” she forced out, hand raising to cover her face as it pinched. “I don’t want them to know what happened,”

Nick rolled his eyes as their conversation was lost in the distance he put between them, following Callie and Ward to the back of the small house where they’d found clothes and rubbing alcohol in a cramped bathroom.

He felt like an awkward bystander as he watched her go about dividing the cloths up and dousing them with alcohol, even helping Ward with the scrapes across his cheek and arms.

“You need to get looked at too,” Nick piped in, and Ward stepped aside to allow her to move to him, but she didn’t even bat an eye.

“Callie,” Nick tried, but she only glanced at him, tipping the bottle onto the rag again.

“Are you really ignoring me?” the Orc snapped, but the purposeful turn of her shoulders so her back was to him said everything he needed.

Heat flushed across his cheeks, and he was sure a few droplets of blood spewed from his ear with the way his heart kicked into high gear.

“Daryl,” he growled, and Ward was swift in maneuvering between them, happy to tend to himself elsewhere.

He leaned in the doorway, an unmoving wall she knew she had no chance of squeezing past. So at last she turned to him, arms crossed as his and provocation rolling off both of them. He knew she was uncomfortable; she would try but could never hide the slight wincing of her eyes when she’d have a particularly gnarly cramp or stop herself from swaying when her back ached too severely.

Throwing in bodily injuries and exhaustion was only aggravating that.

“What’s hurt?” he asked, but she shrugged.

“Haven’t had a minute to look,” she tilted her head, jaw set.

“Leo?”

“Quiet,”

He sighed. “Can you give me more than that?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

His arms unfolded, taking a menacing step towards her. “Don’t act like you’re not bothered by that just because you’re pissed at me,”

“I have every right to be pissed at you,” she piqued, but a wide step into the bathroom sent her stepping back, flinching when the door slammed heatedly behind him.

“Then be fucking angry, but I’m not going to sit and feel bad when I was trying to keep you two safe!” he yelled, even leaning down to get eye level. “You’re always first to tell me how unwilling you are to put up with any shit that could affect you or Leo and now you’re spinning on me and guilting me into doing the same? Are you fucking kidding me Callie?”

“It’s not the same-”

“You’re right, it’s worse! We have roofs falling on our heads and shots firing everywhere and you have the audacity to turn on me and make me the bad guy for doing what I’m supposed to be doing!” he finished, leaving her pressed tight against the wall, staring up at him with a deep frown and angrily arched brows, tears glazing over her eyes.

“This isn’t my fault-”

“I never said it was!” he boomed, throwing his fist into the wall beside her. She cowered away, pulling her arms to her chest.

He was huffing, watching her as he shifted side to side angrily. “You can do whatever you want, hate me all you need, but don’t put Leo in the center of it. You’d never look at me again if I did that to you Callie, and I sure as hell won’t look at you if you pull that shit again.”

It pissed her off to no end that what he said was true; that she couldn’t battle it.

She’d directed all her anger from their situation onto him knowing full well she would’ve thought to send him to safety if Leo were attached to him. He was doing exactly what she was despite being the one who would’ve stayed behind in the middle of it, all to make sure they were safe. Now she’d gone and effectively pushed her rock into a state of rage, leaving her… alone, it now seemed.

By the time she’d come to this realization, he’d already left the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself again to leave her with her fists balled against her eyes in repressed sobs.

Fuck this- fuck everything about it.

Callie bit another choke of cries back, straightening herself, pushing down everything that hurt across her body.

She stared at the door, clicking her teeth together and wiping her cheeks, collecting some sticky blood along the way. A pitiful whine made it past her lips when she waited and he didn’t come back in.

First instinct when she felt like her world was collapsing was to run to Nick. Where was he now that she’d pushed him away?

Find him.

She was across the narrow bathroom in a few shaking steps, yanking hard against the doorknob- of course he slammed it hard enough to jam- to step into the hallway, searching through the small living room that was empty.

She exhaled, fists curling at her sides and eyes jumping frantically.

“Callie,”

A quick spin found Nick leaned just outside the bathroom door, his temper brought down considerably as he looked on at her in shame.

A small whimper came forth as he pushed off the wall to open his arms just as she’d stumbled into them, pressing her face tight against his chest and her body against him, his hands sweeping across her back, his brawny arms finally locking tightly around her.

Soft sniffles compelled him to wiggle his head down to press kisses against her forehead. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking,”

Nick nodded, resting his cheek where his kisses once did. “It’s over with,” he moved to rest his chin there, looking over the sparse living room, but then uncurled the arm around her neck when her sticky hair reminded him of more pressing matters. “You gotta get looked at,”

“Couple more seconds,” she pleaded, clasping her hands behind him. “You scared the shit outta me at the house,”

Nick leaned back to look at her quizzically as she slid her cheek up to gaze at him. “You passed out. I didn’t think you were gonna wake up,” she frowned.

“How long was I out for?” his brows knit together.

“Couple minutes,”

He chuffed contritely. “What a great father I’ve been so far,”

“Don’t feel too bad. I tried to convince you I could keep a premature baby alive with no doctors,”

She felt his laugh rumble through his chest, prompting her to look up at him again.

Callie’s eyes fluttered shut when he pressed his lips to hers, leaning deeper into his hold when he held her jaw so he could continue to caress her lips sweetly, the last of his bubbling rage falling to his feet.

“How’re y’all makin’ out with a missing ear and hole blown into your head?”

Callie felt Nick’s displeased sigh before he looked behind her to see Ward trudging towards them, still holding her tight against his chest as his partner came to stand beside the two.

“Glad you two made up so I ain’t caught in the middle’a one of those petty fights again,” he sassed, but Callie stared at him defiantly, burrowing her face tighter against Nick as he held around her shoulders. “You okay mamas?”

She nodded, unwillingly pulling from her Orc when Daryl started handing off various medical instruments and bandaging from the worn backpack Tikka had brought along.

“We’ve had all this the entire time?” Nick asked.

“Nah, this is uh… what’s-her-name’s bag,” he explained, grabbing some gauze and tape for himself.

“Rania,” Callie corrected, meeting Nick’s vexed expression. “What?”

“She’s part of the reason we’re here,”

“Then why else would she save you?” Callie pressed Ward, but he was answerless. “Look at her now,”

“Look at us now.” Ward muttered, walking away. She rolled her eyes, returning to the matter at hand.

“Hold still,” she again said, face lined in concentration as she carefully- despite her hands being more unsteady than usual- used the metal tweezers to delicately pick out the debris left in the stab wound in Nick’s shoulder. The worst, which had been a few jagged pieces of rooftop and a piece of wood splintering off of the biggest fragment into his flesh had passed, but every light brush of gauze or the tweezers shot down his arm, causing a hard recoil or loud growl.

“There’s like a little pebble or something,” she winced, but a hard shudder and shake of his head stopped her. “Reached your limit?”

He nodded, exhaling hard when she dropped the tweezers in the sink beside him. “It’s the poking. Makes me nauseous,”

“I’m sorry,” she patted his cheek gently before tearing open more packets of gauze, preparing a makeshift bandage.

Nick was fighting back a growl when he wiped a doused cloth over his clipped ear, his line of sight moving behind Callie and over Rania, still laid across the couch. She hadn’t made a peep since being laid there, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. Occasionally she’d tilt her head in the direction of a sound, quietly observing the world around her without sight.

Her fragile state didn’t convince Nick, however.

He’d seen a hole blasted through Leila only to rise again and nearly kill him. Bright’s were a race all in their own; underestimating their ability wasn’t something he did lightly.

“Hush,” Callie snapped lowly, smoothing the tape along his skin, silencing his low protests.

“They should have her tied up,”

She glared down at him flatly. “Did you see the hole in her stomach?”

“I’ve seen what Bright’s can bounce back from,” he retorted.

“There’s no bouncing back from a dolo spell,” Tikka walked into the room, carrying with her a few bottles of water and another backpack.

“A what?” Callie asked, changing places with Nick once he’d pulled his shirt back down.

“It’s the deceit spell. It maims, then heals, but the damage is left behind to tear you from the inside out,” she interpreted, glancing at the two. “I can’t believe he used it on her,”

“Can’t be surprised your students use what you teach,” Nick mumbled, grunting when Callie pinched his side. He shrugged, helping her move her sticky hair aside to see the wound across her scalp.

“We don’t teach torture spells. They take time, practice- practice on living subjects,”

Callie hissed when he found the wound, which was actually a small section of her scalp that’d been lifted from her skull. Hesitation stuttered his actions.

“The other Brights,”

The three looked to Rania who’d opened her eyes, still bloodshot and sunken. “I think he practiced on them,” she rasped, shaking her head. “He was as absent as he was involved,”

“That accounts for you too,” Nick commented, enduring a harder smack to his side.

“Knock it off,” Callie ground out.

“No! They’ve been telling us nothing but how dangerous they are and how imperative it is to stop them and now you want me to show mercy? After her little boyfriend tried to kill you? After he killed Pucca?” he grilled, taking turns looking between the girls.

“That was before this,” Tikka tried, but Nick was unshakable as he waved a hand and turned back to Callie.

“How do you know she won’t turn on us?”

For that, Tikka’s silence was his only response.

“What if she leads him to us?” he pressed, and caught Rania arching her neck to glance back at Tikka who’s eyes darted away nervously.

Nick scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not trusting her until she’s dead or in MTF’s hands.”

He pulled Callie off of the table carefully to lead her away, but she still looked at Rania apologetically before they cut deeper into the house. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, or maybe it was the hormones that opened up avenues of empathy she didn’t know she had, but something in her spoke for Rania’s protection.

It could’ve also been because of her own halfling calling for attention every time her stomach growled.

Tikka hesitated before sorting out the remaining items in hand, her movements uncoordinated.

“They think we’ve found you all this time? On our own?”

Rania’s voice troubled her enough to drop something, but Tikka couldn’t find the words after a few tense seconds passed.

“Does Fero even know you’ve been leading us here since the beginning?”

Now she stopped altogether, turning, but didn’t cross the room to face Rania. “No,”

“Why?”

Tikka fidgeted. “He wouldn’t have stayed with me,”

Saying it out loud shed light on how ridiculous that actually was. The same logic she’d once used to convince herself that was of sound reason wasn’t even traceable across the tracks of her mind once her own foolishness set in, and Rania’s silence only burderened that.

Tikka didn’t have the courage to face the twice betrayal in Rania’s eyes as she rushed past her, choosing to dart through the house to find Fero.

↠

“If we can just get him into the open we’d have the advantage,” Tikka rubbed her eyes, leaning onto her knees towards the fire.

“We’d still have to disarm him,” Nick grumbled, cheek rested against Callie’s head where she leaned into his side.

“That’s Ward,” Tikka pointed to Daryl who was leaned tiredly into his own palm, lifting either leg to keep his feet warm in the icy night. “I can keep his attention but if you don’t call that wand-”

“I know, I know, won’t happen again,” he assured half-heartedly, still picking at the last of his canned food.

“We still need somewhere that has cover,” Fero prodded the fire, tossing in a few leafy branches to keep it lively.

“Cover around here means going into town,” Callie said through her jaw; she had no desire to lift her head, and could barely keep her eyes open as she stared at the flames, wrapped in found jackets and a blanket for good measure, but even with all of that and Nick’s arm around her, the biting cold still found it’s way in.

“At least it’s a barren town,” Fero cracked, unphased by their glares.

“Is it really just as simple as Daryl calling the wand?” Nick asked. “What if he does that thing to get away?”

“Carry? I mean, there’s a possibility. I could stun him beforehand or at least try so he couldn’t sneak off like that,” Tikka rationalized.

“This whole plan is sittin’ on that then,” Daryl miffed.

“A plan is better than no plan,” she fought back, her line of sight cutting to the somewhat house behind him, then to Fero. “Can we take her with?”

Fero’s brow wrinkled. “You know she doesn’t have that long. I’d give her another 24 hours max,”

“We can’t just leave her here alone,”

Callie adjusted herself so her chin rested in her palm. “What happened to her? How did she end up here?” she asked, ignoring Nick’s low groan.

“I told you she was-”

“Attacked, I know, but how did she end up with him?” she pressed.

Tikka smoothed her hands down her thighs to her knees. “They were lovers. In a compound full of Elves I imagine they found great solace in each other,” she explained earnestly.

“Why didn’t he stop with the ones who attacked her?” Ward asked then.

“By then they’d both been beaten into the dirt by everyone at least once, so everyone became a target. His rage isn’t random, it was dormant,” Tikka tossed another twig into the fire, setting loose a small whisp of sparks that crackled loudly.

“How old are they?” Nick asked.

“They’re both 19,” Tikka spoke surely, the same statement having haunted her thoughts before.

Nick scoffed then. “They’re fucking babies,”

“Long past their adolescence where they’re from,” Fero defended, locking eyes with the Orc who had now come to shrug off anything the curly haired Elf said.

Nick still shook his head. “Like it’s the only place with those conditions. I can’t believe we’re running from a fucking child,”

“Not for long. This plan will work,” Tikka tried to say encouragingly between them, but their hearts were void of any hope just as their stomachs were of any decent food. Instead, they looked on to the fire, collecting its warmth when the world around them felt cold and unfamiliar.

She too looked to the flames once again. “It’ll work this time.”

It was silently that they all started to wander back into the small house after the fire had started to dwindle, spitting into low embers that barely kept their hands warm.

Nick reserved the only bed for Callie, hissing his own curses in return when Fero objected, but both women silenced their lovers and moved to separate ends of the house, leaving Ward to stretch across an old, creaking rocking chair he was longer than.

It was also decided upon that night that around the clock watches needed to be kept, and to Nick’s insistence, in the kitchen where Rania still laid, unable to even sit up pointed out by none other than Callie. Even if Tikka and Daryl hadn’t kept up on his persistence, he still trudged into the kitchen to sit at the windows side once Ward had come to wake him for his turn.

He’d almost forgotten they were holed up in an unknown individuals home somewhere deep in the hills of Mexico when he spun groggily from his slumber to face Daryl, and untangling from Callie once realization had set in made it all the harder to come to terms with their situation, again.

Unwillingly he slipped his arm from under her head, his touch running down her side to linger at her hip as he gazed down upon her, sleeping and for a short while oblivious to the danger closing in on them. Nick almost couldn’t summon the willpower to leave her side, even in the cramped bed, when he pulled her hair from her neck and face, grinning when she curled into a tighter ball, her arm draped over her bulging stomach.

I’m sorry. He pulled his hand back into his lap, looking at her silhouette under the moonlight peaking through the lace curtains as he stood. The patterns dripping over her were foreign, but her curves carved deeper into his memory than his own fingerprints.

Nick walked away before he allowed the stunning urge to pick her up and carry her out into the night, to take her anywhere else but where they were until he found his way home overtook him, but that desire burned to animosity, and it showed in his displeased glower when he walked into the kitchen and his eyes drifted over Rania.

It still shook the occasional growl from his lungs when he’d sigh, staring tiredly out the dirty window and over the pitch black landscape, only a dull house light here and there, sometimes the distant call of a coyote.

Nick yawned wide, leaning back in the small chair that creaked beneath his weight. The longer he struggled to keep his eyes open the more he realized how useless this watch was. There wasn’t much of anything Nick could do himself if Makhel came waltzing up again.

He glanced back at Rania. She could’ve already alerted Makhel; he could’ve been on his way.

He growled, crossing his arms.

“You’re right, you know,”

Nick turned in his chair to find Rania looking at him, and now that he was concentrating on her, he could see the pale marbling starting to discolor her hands and across her jaw. He glanced at the living room, but didn’t know why it made him uneasy to speak to her without Tikka present.

“Excuse me?”

“About what you said earlier, being held accountable for this mess,” she rasped, eyes illuminating in the minimal light when the low beams of a car swung by. “I had opportunities to stop him and I didn’t,”

Nick scoffed, swiveling back to face the window to hide the annoyance flickering across his features.

“I was scared. He was all I had,”

“You could have ran,” he blurted before thinking, turning head just enough to make sure his words made it to her.

“That’s easier said than done. Who would’ve believed me?” she asked, but Nick didn’t acknowledge her. She only had the plain of his back and an ear flicking in annoyance. “I know, not even Orcs like talking to halflings,”

“Don’t put that on me. I may not like you but I’m not that low,” he snapped vehemently below his breath, spinning in his seat. “Plus, you’re a hybrid,”

“And you’re expecting a halfling of your own,” she stated, conjuring enough energy to grin at him, and it only grew when his nose crinkled and brows knit together.

Nick continued to glare until her smile dwindled, but she continued to stare back, clearly not unnerved by an Orcs first line of defense: their looks alone.

“Why did you save Daryl?” he came right out with, at last shaking the adamancy in which she gazed at him with. Momentary guilt flushed him; the girl was literally dying and here he was doing his best to make her feel worse about it.

“I understand why Makhel did what he did in the beginning, because I can say that if I’d been forced to simply ignore the attackers that crippled my lover, I’d have done the same. But with every other Bright killed, it went from revenge to drunk off the satisfaction of killing. Somehow, along the way, I let his hand go and let him wander away, and now I can’t find him,” she confessed lowly, her head rolling to the side to hide the tear that skipped down her cheek.

“None of you deserve to have him trying to tear your lives apart, and when I tried-” her voice broke, hands fumbling weakly over her stomach. “I couldn’t allow him to take another life.They were not his to decide upon,”

“Even if it means giving up your own?” Nick dared, looking to her again.

“If mine ending that night could’ve prevented this, I’d gladly hand it over,”

Nick’s face tensed in unease. “You’re too young to be throwing your life away like that,” he said calmer, an heir of combative nature in his tone.

Her shoulder rose as her chin dipped in what he guessed was a weak shrug. “I’ve lived what my life would’ve always had. I’m not destined for great things. I experienced everything I wanted once, and I’m at peace with that,” Rania declared softly, her eyes sliding shut.

Nick studied those words and let silence pass between them for some time, continuing to look beyond the sparse street outside.

Sometimes he thought he’d see shadows shooting by, and would tense, ready to fight, but they’d melt back into the night, completely untraceable. Just like Makhel had been under Kandomere’s watchful eye.

“How did you keep finding them?”

Rania’s eyes cracked open.

“We knew about you weeks through MTF, but she said you two were trailing them for months. You happened to know exactly where we were going when we left LA,” Nick explained, finally unraveling the confusion that had swam circles in his mind.

“There wasn’t much finding as there was following,” Rania simply stated, and Nick’s stomach flipped.

“She left a trail?”

“Like breadcrumbs,”

Nick’s face twisted in disgust. “He was in my house- he found us at Ward’s,” he exhaled.

“We found you in Mexico when she wanted us to,”

He was looking at her in horror, feeling as if all the shadows about him were suddenly the exact shapes of a rogue Bright, ready to cast the next spell directly into the side of his head, then Callie’s, and everyone else's.

“He’ll find us,” Nick stated, definitely, and she nodded slowly.

“She’ll make sure of it,”

When Nick stood suddenly, Rania raised her hand. “Don’t run. She’s traitorous, but she’s also your protection. Makhel knows your scent, knows your wife’s. I will be forever sorry, but let Tikka fall with him, not you.”

Nick was glanced around frantically a few more times before rushing into the living room where he walked into Tikka stood on the other side of the dividing wall, listening and looking up at him in horror.

He burned to throw her against a wall and strangle the life from her… but what Rania said echoed in his mind. She really was their only protection.

Nick choked down a pained whimper, his face a world of hurt.

“Jakoby-”

She flattened against the wall when he pointed threateningly, snarling lowly down at her with bared teeth. Tikka whimpered when he let his fist slam into the wall beside her head in restraint, stomping past her to the back of the house.

She thought of chasing after him and pleading her case, but truth rang louder than reason, and she could only assume that this had been the incident to break his trust in her completely.

“Is there something you want to tell me too?” Fero’s voice floated to her calmly, and she spun to find him stretched across a thin cushioned couch, peeking at her from under his arm draped over his eyes.

Nick had to stop the door from slamming when he reflexively swung it behind himself, but it was still arduous to do anything quietly when all he wanted was to tear the floorboards up and crack furniture over each other.

He paced, hard breaths flaring through his nostrils. The bone deep chill of the night didn’t even bother him anymore. He could’ve fueled a locomotive with the insane measure of fury coming off of him, but there was nowhere to channel it. He had to push it down, contain it. There was no option other than to sit, and wait, and do what he could to keep Callie and Leo safe, and that was the worst of it.

There was absolutely nothing he could do to keep the danger from them that wasn’t the strength he had in his own hands, or the fierce protectiveness in his own heart.

He leaned against his knees, fighting to catch his breath when the thoughts in his head melted together into a screaming tornado.

It was some time before taking a breath felt fulfilling again; like his lungs were capable of holding it in before gasping it out, and soon he found himself sat beside the warped window that distorted everything outside, but he knew he wouldn’t gain even a minutes worth of sleep. Even if he, a mere Orc who was no match against a Bright, could slow Makhel down long enough to give Callie a running start, he’d remain awake to make sure she had that chance.

That in itself plagued him greatly. There was no second thoughts about throwing his life down to spare hers, but to think there was never a chance to see her walk down a church’s isle and claim his last name as her own, or to see how much of himself was in Leo almost brought him to his knees.

He ran his hands from his face to the back of his head, his knee bouncing wildly.

“My bad habits rubbing off on you?”

Callie’s voice washed over him like a warm blanket on a cold night. He found her big eyes next, heavy with sleep and blinking the last of it away as she looked at him.

He could only muster a weak grin, looking down at his hands.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, but before he shrugged, there was a long pause, long enough for her to see the torment swimming across his features, even in the darkness of the room. “Tell me,”

He wanted to tell her, he really did, but the cautionary glance he took towards the door prompted her to rise, suppressing a groan as she moved to sit before him on the dresser under the window.

“Tell me baby,” she urged gently, holding his hands.

The devastation in his eyes frightened her.

“Tikka’s been leading him to us all along. Since the beginning… she’s made sure they always knew where they were, and now where we were,” he croaked, dropping his eyes from hers. “He’ll come for us again and he’ll know exactly where because she’ll make sure of it,”

It rose goosebumps along Callie’s arms and neck. “How do you know?”

“Rania,”

“What if she’s-”

“Tikka heard it all. She didn’t deny any of it,” he finalized, and Callie looked down at their hands as he did.

Her thumbs traced the patterns splashed across knuckles.

“I didn’t think it was a coincidence that he kept finding us,” Callie admitted, and Nick nodded.

“I didn’t want to think it was true,” he sighed, looking up as she did. He could see the gravity of realization setting deeper into her mind, but Callie surprisingly remained composed, far better than he had. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Confused flickered across her features.

“If it weren’t for you, I don’t think I ever would’ve smiled again, or laughed,”

She tilted her head. “Nick,”

“I owe you everything. Before I met you I was okay with… I was okay dying at work. The thought of leaving it all behind didn’t bother me much, but you gave me a reason to make it home everyday just as much as one to get up every morning,” he confessed, squeezing her hands when his words clearly unsettled her. “You gave my world color again,”

A gentle push against his chest furrowed his thoughts. “You gotta give yourself more credit than that. I mean I know I’m pretty awesome,” she paused to catch his smirk. “But you were the one who wandered into the store. You walked into my life at just the right time,” she spoke sincerely, stilling his head when he shook in disagreement. “But I expect years and years with you, Nick. I don’t want anything less than forever,”

He fought the tremble in his bottom lip and chin, his eyes pinching shut, falling into her chest when she wound her arms around his neck.

Nick clung to her desperately, his fingers curling into her clothing as he squeezed around her.

“I love him,” he wavered, dropping his cheek to her stomach, his arms sliding down her frame. “I wanted to meet him so badly-” he barely stopped that sob, pressing his face there.

“No, Nick stop, look at me,” she demanded, barely able to hoist him back up to hold his misty cheeks. “Don’t you dare give up yet. I want to meet the son we fought 3 years to make together and I need you there. He needs to know how strong his father is,” she pleaded, smoothing her thumbs over a stray tear across his cheek. “We need you, baby,”

It was weak, and unsure, but Nick nodded, closing his eyes to rest his forehead against hers as she softly calmed him, chasing away the dark clouds raining over him.

“I love you,” she kissed into his lips. “I love you so, so much,”

He cradled her face now, leaving no minute space between their mouths as fell into her spell, moaning softly as she whispered sweet words to him only; ones that he’d come to recognize as a secret only for him, always leading him further into her bounding love.

So when her tongue tentatively poked into his mouth, it didn’t strike him as dangerous or irresponsible to take advantage of what could be their last night together as a couple, or as a family.

His big hands dragged over her curves, her own smoothing down his sides, holding his hips as she sighed into his kisses.

Her starved whimpers shot heat down to every nerve ending of his body when she arched towards his palm that slid down her chest, his open, gasping mouth soon following to lav his tongue over the skin of her throat that craned back.

Callie cried softly into the night when he pulled her by the hair aside to sink his teeth under her jaw, only daring to prick her skin this time knowing no matter what happened, she’d be his forever. Her blood coated his tongue, and she felt the guttural growl rumble through both of them.

Her fingers digging into his arms told him to keep going, as did the urgency of her kisses when she caught his mouth again, ignoring her own coppery blood and pressing as tight as she could against him with her belly in the way.

She didn’t protest when he pulled her from the dresser and spun her, but instead leaned back into his chest, pushing down her own jeans and panties as he buried his face in her hair, her breasts nearly flattening in his tight hold.

Nick groused noisily, a hand skipping down her body to cup her sex, his middle fingers pressing into her soft lips. He drank in that soft sigh, and for a few moments turned her jaw to watch how her plump lips parted in breathless moans as he circled her clit slowly, blessing her hot mouth with featherlight kisses.

She started to loosen in his hold, her hand over his as he touched her only how he knew she adored, almost content with watching her fall apart in his arms.

He pressed his face into her cheek to inhale and taste her skin while he made quick work of pushing down his own jeans until he sprung free.

Callie always knew how to arch her body so she could remain close, and with a hand around her throat and another guiding himself, he pushed into her slick center, both of them moaning as the inches passed until he was seated tight against her cheeks.

Nick chuffed loudly, unable to open his eyes or control the louder moans as he rocked into her, committed to remembering- no, living these last moments like they were their last.

He soaked in her walls tight around him, her soft pleas and whimpers in his name, her chest heaving under his touch as he caressed her entirely.

She worshipped his brawny body against hers, always steadfast and protective, his heavy arm around her ensuring she’d never fall from his grasp.

His hand fell over her mouth when she sobbed, smiling, her cries heightening with his face pressed down against her shoulder and his hips slapping against her ass forcefully, barely muffled by the small room they were in or the thin door that hid their meeting. He growled in her ear, speaking to her in soft Orkish prayers, her name slipping in here and there, whispering her own words of admiration once his hand lifted from her mouth to kiss her firmly.

If he wasn’t staring out the window, he was looking at his fingers making curls with her hair cascaded over her shoulder, sometimes peering down at her when she’d shift at his side. Her cheek slid around his chest when he kissed the top of her head, pressing that much closer to him.

They basked in their afterglow silently, only the soft brushes of their fingertips across the backs of their hands or stolen kisses being the words they needn’t speak.

Nick moved to feel every one of Leo’s kicks, eventually changing place with Callie to rest his head below her bust so he could speak softly to his son and tell him for every kick counted would be a kiss upon his cheek when he finally got to hold him.

He promised him safety in his arms for the entirety of his life, and love to match that, and swore he’d always be the home and comfort he needed in a world not made for them.

When the sun started to cast blue across the horizon, neither had slept, but neither had feel exhaustion.

Callie had returned to Nick’s chest, his arm curled safely behind her as they rested against the headboard, soaking in their last moments of silence, and peace. Neither bothered moving when they started to hear the others move about the rickety home, some light talking between Ward and Tikka.

Nick only squeezed Callie, watching the sun rise quicker than it ever had before.

“It’ll end today,” he spoke, confident in what he said, but not of an outcome either were certain of. “We’re going home today.”

Callie nodded against his chest.

Dead, or alive?

[shortcakemonster]

Go-Away Green pt. 6

Summary: You finally open up to Peter.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

You snuck in through the back door of the chemistry room as most of your classmates filed in, doing your best to remain unnoticed. On any other day, this would have been a fairly easy feat, but today was your first day out wearing the ring that Tony Stark had given you in order to neutralize your powers. That meant you couldn’t even divert anyone’s attention from you.

Fortunately, you weren’t very noticeable as it was. Sure, you got the odd glance here and there from your fellow students, but nobody really paid you any mind. Everyone gave you about as much consideration as they’d give a chair or a locker.

Everyone except for Peter Parker.

Happy had driven you and Peter home yesterday, and while there was a lot less stress regarding your lack of control over your powers, there was still the lingering tension from all the hand-holding you and Peter had shared back in the lab. You were both fairly content to look at anything but each other for the duration of the ride. Once you’d arrived home, you’d tried to ignore Happy’s smirk as Peter insisted on walking you to the front door of your apartment building.

So there you were, at the front of your complex as the sun began to set over the taller buildings of Queens. You stole a glimpse at Peter, who had shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and was now looking up at you with all the hope and affection in the world contained in his warm brown eyes.

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow, right?” he stammered.

Great. One more expectation you had to fulfill, and it seemed more daunting than keeping up your 4.4 GPA or fighting crime around the city.

Being there for someone who wanted you there. Being wanted. You fought to control your breathing as you twisted your ring around on your finger.  Regardless, you’d nodded before entering your building without a word.

Your daydreams ground to a halt as Peter strolled into class, and your heart sped up at the sight of him. Not because you were nervous (though you were always nervous), this didn’t feel quite like that. This was like being on a swing set, and getting that tickle in your throat or your stomach when you started to go higher than you expected.

However, it was entirely panic-inducing when he looked up from talking with Ned to make eye contact with you.

You looked away, of course, but not immediately. For one moment, which felt like forever but was probably only half a second, you stared fully at him, his soft brown eyes, his strong jawline, his curly hair that you wouldn’t mind threading your hands through...

You cleared your throat and stared downward, though you had nothing to stare at- no notebook or anything- because you never took notes. This didn’t prevent Peter from beelining for you, as you witnessed from his sneakers bouncing across the floor of the classroom towards you.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning against your lab table. You could see his arms out of the corner of your eye- the arms that helped him swing across the city and take out bad guys, and you realized that all the long sleeved shirts and sweaters didn’t do that good of a job at concealing his muscles. No one, you supposed, bothered to take notice of him for very long. In a way, you envied him for that.

You followed the path of his arms up to his shoulders and his face and- honest to goodness, he was smiling at you. You could feel your heart melting.

“Hi,” you squeaked. Hadn’t you just cleared your throat? Why did you sound like this?

His smile widened at your greeting. “So, uh, how are you doing?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “I mean, how do you feel? After everything at the compound, yesterday. I’m sorry if it was overwhelming.”

“I’m good,” you assured him.

“Okay...” He came around the table to stand at your side, ducking his head down to meet your eyes. “Listen, you were telling me something yesterday, and you never got around to finishing it up.”

Forget about it forget about me forget my name forget you’ve ever seen me.

It wouldn’t work, you realized after a second or two, even if you weren’t wearing your ring and your powers were in full effect. Your strongest efforts would likely make Peter groggy, if anything. Still, you’d practiced mental chanting for so long that it was basically instinct, at this point.

You shook your head, partly to clear your thoughts and partly to deny Peter what he was asking. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is,” he insisted, furrowing his eyebrows.

How did he have any way of knowing that? You didn’t blame him for being curious, but it wasn’t like you had anything important to say.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he was blissfully interrupted by the bell, signifying the beginning of class.

He walked back around to the other side of the table, and you thought for a moment that he had given up on his efforts. You were painfully wrong in assuming that Peter Parker would ever give up on anything. “Can we talk at lunch?”

You twisted the ring around on your finger, which didn’t go unnoticed by Peter. “You don’t have to.”

“I know, but I’d like to,” he countered. “If you’re cool with that.”

You looked down and hid your hands in your lap, underneath the table. You shrugged your shoulders in response. Of course you wanted to spend time with him, but at the same time, you didn’t. You’d give anything to hear him ramble on about his crime-fighting stories, his friends, or even Star Wars, but he didn’t seem to want that. He wanted you to talk, and there was no way that was going to happen.

You thought of his smile as you heard his footsteps retreating to his own table. You fought the urge to look up at him again, as you didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face. 

Imagine the disappointment he’d feel if he actually got to know you.

You swallowed, the mental image of his smile being replaced by the memory of him flickering yesterday as he’d taken your hand. He’d willingly held on despite this, and that didn’t bode well for you or him. You didn’t like the thought of him doing anything for you that would affect him like that. It was safe to assume that Peter didn’t think about it that way, but it was also a safe assumption that Peter never really thought about anything before going ahead and doing it. He was a superhero, after all, and he had to trust his instincts.

This time around, his instincts were wrong, and you knew it. His instincts were telling him that you were worth paying attention to and keeping company with.

But... weren’t your instincts telling you the same thing, at least some of them? You doubted that you were wrong to think that Peter was kind, trustworthy, and just an all-around good person. But that didn’t give you the right to make his life any more difficult than it already was, and it was probably all kinds of difficult.

Chemistry passed without any notable events, save for Peter sneaking an occasional look at you from a few rows ahead. You didn’t look back at him, but you felt his eyes on you, and the more it occurred, the less it exhilarated you and the more it made your skin crawl.

He’s going to ask you about Liz and he’s going to hate you he’ll hate you he’ll hate you he’ll hate you no matter what there’s nothing you can do to change it.

You practically leapt out of your seat and bolted out the door when the bell rang, eager to lose Peter before he caught up to you. Instead of going to the cafeteria to sit in your usual seat at your usual table, you headed straight for the bathroom across the hall.

You occasionally spent lunch in the library if, by chance, you wanted to get some actual reading done. But that wasn’t an option, because even if Peter didn’t show up, you couldn’t be around anyone, right now.

You slipped into the handicapped stall and sat on the toilet, burying your head into your hands. The events of the last few days had completely exhausted you, and you couldn’t seem to catch a break from any of it. And you hadn’t even done any “hero work,” yet.

You’re not a hero and you know it. What kind of hero can’t talk to other people without freaking out? You can’t even control your own powers. You’re never actually going to help Peter, he just feels bad for you, and you don’t even deserve that from him. 

It took about ten or fifteen minutes for the restroom to empty out, though it took a while for you to register it, completely lost in your own thoughts. You looked up from your hands and stood up, pacing back and forth in the stall. 

Making sure that there was absolutely no one else in the restroom, you slowly inched the grey ring off of your finger. You immediately became invisible and dropped the ring in surprise. You reached down to pick it up off of the tiled floor, and grew slightly irritated at the plight of trying to grasp it when you couldn’t see your own hand. 

At this thought, your arm flickered into sight, and you blinked with satisfaction. You scooped up the ring and held it in your palm. While the rest of you faltered in your attempt to remain visible, the ring in your hand remained completely opaque in spite of keeping physical contact with you. You supposed it made sense, since it was made to neutralize your powers.

With a sigh, you shoved the ring into your pocket and looked down at your hands again. It would make sense to practice your opacity in front of the mirror, but you didn’t want to risk anyone walking in on you. Besides, you didn’t like looking at yourself in the mirror.

You decided to try something you’d never considered doing, before.

See me look at me let me be seen let me be noticed remember my name.

This had virtually no effect on your state. In any case, it was completely foreign to you to want to be noticed. That was probably why you didn’t become any more opaque than you’d already been. It was like yesterday, when you’d tried to make Peter slap himself. Of course, that also didn’t work because you didn’t have any real mind control abilities, but whatever.

The fact of the matter was, when it really, truly mattered- such as when somebody else needed help- you felt confident enough in your abilities to maintain invisibility. The real problem was staying visible- you hadn’t managed to do it since Saturday night. You could only chalk that up to not wanting to be seen by others. But honestly, when had you ever wanted to be seen, in your life?

That suddenly gave you an idea. You weren’t sure if it was going to work, but for now, it was only an experiment. You let your head fall back against the stall, closing your eyes.

No one is here I’m completely alone everything is fine if someone comes in I can disappear but for now I’m completely by myself there’s no one to see this no one to see me nobody else nobody else nobody else but me.

You kept chanting thoughts like this in your mind, pairing them up with slow, relaxed breaths. Eventually you mellowed out so much that you nearly fell asleep standing up. You jolted yourself back into consciousness, and as your eyes crept open, they fell upon your hands hanging by your side.

You didn’t realize it, at first, you’d forgotten to look for it- but you were completely opaque.

You nearly screamed with delight, but with the little amount that you talked, you doubted that you’d ever actually muster up the power for something like that. Still, you couldn’t help the thrill of triumph that went through you. Finally, finally, you had a semblance of control over your powers! You hopped around the stall, squealing slightly.

Wait until Peter sees!

You stopped bouncing immediately. You needed to give yourself a stern talking-to, the romantic hero side of yourself, at least. Peter was not going to see anything because you were not going to show him. Your newfound control probably wouldn’t even work around him because he made you so nervous and half the time you don’t want to be seen by him but hey that’s only half the time as opposed to all the time which is how it is with everyone else...

You looked down again and groaned. Your worries were confirmed by your once again flickering form. So much for your supposed victory over your powers.

Stupid Peter Parker. Stupid handsome, sweet, intelligent Peter Parker.

You bitterly jammed the ring over your finger and practically stormed out of the bathroom. You were unsure of what you were meant to do, now. It was almost free period, and you never had anywhere to go during free period. You resolved to go to the library and get some studying done, as you’d been too distracted during chemistry to focus on the lecture. At the very least, you knew that Peter had decathlon practice and wouldn’t be anywhere near you.

What an ironic thought to have as you ran into the exact person who you were set on avoiding.

You really should have known better, you should have been watching where you were going. It was like in the movies, when, rather than getting out of the way, some idiotic character simply freezes in place when a giant, dangerous object is headed straight for them. When you saw Peter approaching you, you found that you couldn’t move from your spot, as if your feet had sunken into the floor itself.

Peter was obviously feeling differently about the situation, practically lighting up at the sight of you.

“(Y/N)!” he called, jogging over to you. “I didn’t see you at lunch.”

“I was practicing my powers,” you explained. “With the ring off.” It was mostly true, you just left out the fact that you’d also been actively avoiding him.

“Oh.” He seemed surprised, yet satisfied by your answer. “How’d you do? Did you get a handle on it?”

Not really, considering my visibility only matters when I’m with other people and it seems that I can only become completely opaque when I’m by myself.

You shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Well, I was hoping to see you at lunch. Not that it’s more important than you dealing with your powers, or anything! But, I just... I wanted to continue our conversation from yesterday, back in the lab.”

You leaned against one of the lockers, staring down at the floor. “It’s not worth sharing.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, clearly annoyed. “Do you keep saying stuff like that because you’re legitimately not ready to talk about it, or you think I don’t wanna hear it? Because I’m telling you right now, you’re wrong if you’re thinking the latter.” He stood beside you, also against the lockers.

You were stunned, to say the least. You had no idea how you were getting yourself out of this. He was probably going to hate you by the end of it, wanting nothing to do with you. But wasn’t that exactly what you wanted? And would it really be so bad to get it off your chest, even if it meant he wouldn’t want to talk to you again?

You kept your eyes on the floor, because if there was one thing you absolutely weren’t doing while you got into this, it was making eye contact with Peter.

“Well... it’s about Liz.” You didn’t hear him indicate any sort of protest to hearing about it, so you took a deep breath and continued. “I know that while she was here, she was broke the stereotype of popular girls being super mean and all, but... Back in middle school, she... she wasn’t as nice as she was when you knew her. Not to me, at least.”

You could hear Peter swallow, but you didn’t dare look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“She, um...” Your lower lip started to tremble, and you cursed your own sensitivity over something that had taken place years ago. “I dunno, she just... didn’t like me, and she made her opinions very clear. There was a lot of calling me stupid and ugly and... just all sorts of things. And she kind of set our whole class against me. The one class we had together, I mean. Different grades, and all.” You tried to clear your throat, but you couldn’t collect enough strength for it. Your voice was wavering, and you briefly wondered if anything about you would ever be stable.

The memories had started flooding back- an actual flood, and you were drowning. You didn’t make it sound nearly as bad as it was- how worthless you’d felt throughout middle school, how you’d go home and cry yourself to sleep and then cry yourself awake and wish you had never been born. The name-calling, the rumors, the alienation... It was all in the past, but it still felt so in the present. It was still affecting you, and the lump welling up in your throat definitely proved that.

Peter blinked in disbelief. It was pretty obvious that you weren’t lying to him- this was the most emotion he’d ever gotten out of you. But he still couldn’t believe it. Liz, who watched TED talks on how to be a good leader? Who kept the peace between all the different warring personalities on the decathlon team? Who threw awesome parties at her awesome house and somehow managed to never let anyone get hurt on her watch? Who headed the homecoming committee and chose to attend the actual dance with Peter Parker, of all people?

Liz had bullied you?

“I don’t get it,” he said softly. “Why would she do that?”

You shrugged, finally looking up at him. “Why does Flash harass you all the time? There’s no reason for it, it just happens.”

You neglected to mention your theory that Flash was such a jerk all the time because he was jealous of Peter’s good looks and intelligence. Besides, your theory didn’t apply to you and Liz, who had no reason whatsoever to envy you.

“Yeah, but still. Liz? She never said anything about you.” His eyes suddenly widened as he appeared to put all the pieces together. Here it came, the moment you’d been dreading, the questioning: “She doesn’t remember, does she? You made her forget about you.”

You looked across the hall to the lockers on the other side. “It... it got to be too much,” you murmured, your word almost inaudible. You did your best to get a handle on your emotions, but you could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes. “I didn’t realize I was doing it. Every day I went to school, I wished and prayed that everyone would just... look through me. Forget my name, what I looked like, that I even existed. And little by little, everybody did.”

At the time, you’d considered it a miracle. Hell, you still did. God only knows what would have happened to you if the bullying had continued for even another day. Coming to school one day and having nobody at all pay attention to you... At first, you thought everyone was doing it to be mean, to make you feel more isolated than you already felt, but you soon realized that everyone who spared you a glance- including Liz, who had been the catalyst for all of this- instantly looked away from you as if you were another object lying around the classroom.

Still, this wasn’t the end to the story. After all, middle school was a long time ago.

You swallowed, trying to get rid of the memories along with the lump in your throat. “And, uh... after Liz had completely forgotten, it was almost like she forgot how to be mean altogether. So maybe I was the problem. I was a pretty easy target, to be fair.”

Peter could practically feel his heart shrivel up inside of him. He had no idea- why had he pushed you so much? Sure, he was curious because Liz was involved, but did he really prioritize hearing about his crush over your comfort? 

Previously, he thought that one of your worst traits was your lack of communication- which he knew wasn’t your fault, but that didn’t mean he liked it. But now, the one thing that he absolutely hated was the way you talked about yourself.

From the looks of it, you hadn’t told anyone about this, and it had been years. You’d been keeping everything locked up inside for this long, and suddenly he couldn’t regret ever making you talk about it. You obviously needed to, whether you knew it or not. He could only hope that you would eventually trust him with anything else in your life that you couldn’t handle alone.

For now, he needed to find some way to get your mind off of this. He had no idea how to comfort you, though. He was ill-equipped for this, he didn’t know what to say, even after all of his own firsthand experiences with bullying. His first instinct was to hug you, but you were barely okay with hand-holding.

Hand-holding.

Without another thought, Peter reached over and scooped one of your hands into his. He took notice of the ring on your finger, and was slightly annoyed by the lack of access that it granted to your skin, but he warded those thoughts away. You needed his stability right now, not his desperation.

If there was one thing he was absolutely sure of, it was that he wasn’t letting you spend any time by yourself after what you’d just told him.

“(Y/N)?” he said softly.

Dale Carnegie once said something along the lines of, “Everyone’s favorite word is their own name being said aloud.” You’d never bought that- your name being said by someone else only triggered panic with you, but Peter’s voice blending with it seemed to prove Carnegie’s words somewhat true.

You looked up to him to indicate that you were listening.

“The decathlon team is meeting soon. I was wondering if you wanted to sit in on one of our practices.”

You shook your head. “I doubt anyone would want me there.”

Peter had to clench his teeth to keep from yelling in protest. “I want you there,” he argued. “And look, I get it if you don’t want to, but we all really think you’d make a great addition to the team. Honestly.”

“Peter, I can barely talk to other people. How am I supposed to answer questions in front of an audience during a high-pressure academic event?”

“I used to think the same thing about myself,” Peter replied, squeezing your hand. “Sometimes I still do, but it all comes with practice.”

Peter tugged you forward and led you to the practice room. He explained some of the decathlon rules, the tips and tricks he used to keep calm and collected, but everything he said went in one ear and out the other.

You weren’t sure if this was something you could practice. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d given an oral presentation- you always somehow managed to get out of them- and you’d certainly never debated with anyone or competed in anything, before. You were sure that everyone on the team had to have some sort of knack for competition, otherwise they wouldn’t be doing what they did. Then again, they could just be after scholarship money or something like that, which sounded pretty appealing to you, as well.

You snapped yourself back into present time, just as Peter began to say, “By the way, what Liz and everyone else did, it wasn’t because of you. Trust me, it couldn’t have been.”

The corners of your mouth upturned slightly at his effort. “Thanks, but you have no way of knowing that,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

You felt him give your hand a squeeze, and you looked back up at him. “Sure I do,” he retorted, sending you a wink.

Oh, dear Heaven above, he did not just wink at me. He did. He definitely did.

Right at that moment, the bell for free period rang and some of the other decathlon members eventually filed in, one of them being Ned, who immediately headed straight over to you and Peter.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” he asked you as he exchanged a secret handshake with Peter.

“She’s trying out for the team.” You detected something... strange in Peter’s voice, the way he held himself, the look on his face. Was he... proud? Of you? You hadn’t even done anything, yet.

“Oh, so that’s why you were gone for so long,” Ned mused.

“No, Ned, I had some other things to attend to,” Peter whispered.

“Somebody accidentally shoplifted from a tech store because their two-year-old grabbed a set of headphones and walked out the door with them. Something like that doesn’t exactly take twenty minutes to deal with.”

“Ned!” Peter whisper-shouted.

“What? You told me she knew already!” Ned turned to you, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Also, speaking of, can you really turn invisible?”

You nodded, looking around the room to make sure nobody had heard.

Ned clearly had different concerns. “That’s so cool! And Peter told me you helped save everyone at Delmar’s! And something about an alley, yesterday? I dunno, he talks too fast, sometimes.”

“Some guy in the chair you are,” Peter mocked.

“Well, you do!” Ned defended.

“Hey! Penis Parker!"

Peter closed his eyes and groaned. He braced himself and turned around to face Flash Thompson, who was sauntering right over to your little trio.

"Hey, who’s this?” Flash questioned, his eyes coming to rest on you.

Peter drew his hand behind his back, tugging you so you stood slightly behind him. You looked up at his face- his jaw was taut and his eyes were... intense, to say the least.

“This is (Y/N). She’s sitting in on the meeting,” Peter told him.

Flash seemed amused, more than anything else. “Oh, really? You’re thinking of joining the team?”

“Flash, we tried to recruit her last week,” Peter reminded him. “Remember, you made it all of three steps before you turned right back around and-”

“Yeah, whatever, Parker,” Flash scoffed, crossing his arms. You felt heat rushing up to your ears as you remembered the incident from last week. It probably wasn’t a good idea for Peter to be reminding people of stuff like that, but you didn’t blame him for getting defensive.

Although exactly why he was getting defensive over you was an entirely different question.

“Okay, guys!” MJ’s voice came out over the room as she approached the group. “Harrington went home early, so let’s get this party started.” Her gaze swept over the other team members before landing on you. “And you are?”

“(Y/N),” you replied softly.

“She’s thinking of joining the team,” Ned explained.

“Okay, did you wanna try out?” MJ asked. “You’d have to go up against one of the other members to qualify.”

Your heart sped up. You weren’t ready for that, not now. Didn’t you get any time beforehand to practice, get the lay of the land? “I, uh, I was actually just gonna watch and-”

“I’ll take her,” Flash offered.

Peter’s grip on your hand tightened. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“What, were you planning to let her win against you so you could kick me off the team? Yeah, that’s right. I know more than you think.” He directed his attention toward you. “If you want a spot on this team- if you wanna replace me- you’re gonna have to earn it.” He then turned back to MJ, his face set in defiance. “And if we don’t do this right here, right now, I’m telling Harrington.”

You swore that the entire room could hear your heart pounding. Peter was giving Flash some sort of death glare, likely because of the talk you two had just had. After reopening those wounds from so long ago, you most assuredly didn’t need this, right now.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” MJ huffed.

“Wha- MJ!” Peter protested.

“You heard the lady, Parker,” Flash taunted.

“Look, you’re gonna do great,” Peter assured you gently. “You’re easily the smartest person in this room.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. Where had he gotten that idea? Had you ever done anything even remotely intelligent in front of him? You didn’t have time to contemplate this as MJ directed you and Flash to sit on the stage at the front of the room. Every step forward felt like your feet were made of cement.

You made it onto the stage, where there were some chairs and a table, on top of which was a bell. Flash darted into one chair as you carefully pulled out your own, trying not to make any noise, before sitting down.

As MJ prepared the questions, Flash leaned over to whisper to you. “You know, knowledge isn’t enough. You have to be quick and confident, as well.”

Oh, perfect. The two things you definitely weren’t. You felt your dread down in the very pit of your stomach, and for a moment you thought that never in your life had you ever wanted to be invisible more than you did right now. That wasn’t actually true, though, now that you thought about it.

You looked to Ned, who gave you a thumbs-up, and Peter, who smiled in an attempt to reassure you, but even he looked nervous about the situation.

Here was an expectation, and you knew you weren’t going to be able to fulfill it.

MJ jolted you from your thoughts by asking the first question, which you didn’t even hear over the blood pounding in your ears. You opened your mouth to ask for a repeat of the question, but you were interrupted by the ring of the bell.

“Flash?” said MJ.

“Trihydrogen phosphate,” Flash announced with a grin.

You felt yourself die a little inside. A question about the elements? You could have gotten that, easily. This was probably one of the easiest practice questions they had, and here you were, failing it. You slouched in your chair.

Question after question after question came and went, and by the end of it you felt so flustered that you thought you might explode. You had sunken almost completely into your seat, unlike Flash, who was perched on his chair, elbows on the table, confident as ever.

The worst part of it was, you knew all these answers, you knew them. But having to blurt them out with Flash right next to you and a bunch of other people sitting expectantly in front of you... what if you were actually wrong? Surely that was worse than not saying anything at all, wasn’t it? At least this way, you could keep a shred of your dignity instead of saying the wrong thing and becoming a laughing stock of the entire team.

Before you knew it, the worst of it was over. MJ had run out of questions, and the rest of the team looked either bored or irritated by the colossal waste of time that was your “tryout.” Even Peter was stressed, you could tell by the way he messed with his own hair.

“Okay, uh, I’m gonna discuss with the other teammates,” MJ announced.

Peter almost felt sick to his stomach. You hadn’t said a word throughout the entire debacle. You knew all of that stuff, didn’t you? If you didn’t, then Mr. Harrington wouldn’t have sought you out in the first place. This was probably just your social anxiety, and Flash wasn’t making it any better.

As if on cue from Peter’s thoughts, Flash tossed a cocky grin at him from across the room, clearly satisfied by your failure. Peter immediately moved to go and comfort you, but MJ stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Your girlfriend’s kinda blowing it, Parker,” MJ informed him, letting her hand down.

Peter instantly felt his face and neck heat up. “She-she’s not my- why does everyone keep thinking we’re together?” 

“Well, you do hold her hand a lot,” Ned reasoned.

“And obsessively worry about her well-being,” MJ chipped in.

“And talk about her constantly.” 

“You can’t go five seconds without staring at her.”

“And did you see the way you got when Flash went anywhere near her?”

“Alright, guys, I get it, thanks,” Peter grumbled, slouching in his seat.

“(Y/N)!” MJ called out. Your back straightened at the sound of your own name. “Come here for a sec, will you?”

You stood and stepped out from around the table before making your way onto the floor and approaching MJ and the others. You heard a noise from behind you and turned around to see Flash propping up his feet on the table, his hands clasped behind his head.

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled.

“Don’t apologize,” Peter argued.

“Yeah, it’s not your fault you completely tanked,” MJ said, shrugging.

“MJ!”

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “I’m not sure I would’ve had time for the team, anyway.”

“Alright, well...” MJ waved her hand at you in a brushing motion. “So long, farewell, yada yada.”

You stared downward and began your walk to the door. What you didn’t see was Peter nearly jumping out of his seat in protest and MJ holding up a finger to stop him. The gears were turning in her head, probably because she wanted you on the team (or rather, Flash off of the team), as much as anyone else.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t believe how badly you’d done. Well, you could, because you had a tendency to mess everything up. What you couldn’t come to terms with was the fact that everyone in that room would be able to remember your failure perfectly, without any interference from you.

Maybe tomorrow, you could make them forget. If you strategized, you could probably find a way to make their memories of you disappear. Perhaps if you practiced, or if you had a plan of attack that didn’t jeopardize your visibility.

One thing you did know, Peter probably never wanted to talk to you again after you’d let him down so hard, and you were fine with that. Weren’t you?

Once you were nearly out the door, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” You turned and saw MJ catching up with you.

You swallowed. “Y-yeah?”

“Sorry you didn’t make the team,” she said. “But hey, real quick, this is something that’s been bugging me all day and you know the Wi-Fi here sucks. By chance, do you remember who thought that electrons move in specific patterns around the nucleus?”

You thought for a moment before coming up with the answer, not even considering how strange it was that she’d decided to ask you this kind of question completely out of the blue, especially after you’d bombed the decathlon tryout. “Niels Bohr. I think.”

“Right, right,” MJ agreed. “You know when he proposed that?”

“1913.”

“Cool. Hey, didn’t they name an element after him, or something?”

“Yeah, Bohrium. It’s man-made. Synthetic, I mean.” Your heartbeat had started to pick up, though not in an entirely bad way. You knew exactly what MJ was doing, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset about it. Nervous, sure, but she had eased you into it. Was she giving you a second chance? This was more of a quiz than a legitimate tryout, but you were willing to take what you could get.

“Hey, just for fun, name me some other synthetic elements,” she suggested casually.

“How many?” you asked.

She shrugged. “As many as you can.”

Instantly, a slew of names and facts entered your mind, and you struggled to keep track of them all. “Uh... Einsteinium, curium, mendelevium, lawrencium, rutherfordium, seaborgium, fermium... Those are some of the ones named after scientists, that is. I didn’t say them in order, though.”

“Do you know all of the elements in order?” MJ asked.

Oh, this is too easy.

You didn’t even realize that you were rattling off the entire periodic table of elements until you were about halfway through. You’d memorized the chart back in elementary school, and it had stuck with you ever since. Sometimes you recited in your mind when a class was going by slowly and you needed something to keep yourself awake.

After a minute or two, you finished your recitation, breathing a little quickly. MJ kept a pretty good poker face, but you could tell that she wanted to smile.

“Lemme get back to you later.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked back over to the other members, many of whom, you noticed, appeared to be quite pleased with how well you had done. Except for Flash, who was stewing in his seat on the stage, his arms crossed.

But Ned was giving you two thumbs-up, and some of the other teammates looked somewhat impressed with your answers. And Peter...

Peter had the biggest, proudest grin on his face.

Suddenly it didn’t feel quite so bad to have all those eyes on you, especially when they were looking at you with so much approval. Your instinct was still to avoid eye contact by looking at the ground, and you followed this instinct, but you fought a smile as you did.

"By the way," MJ said, breaking you out of your thoughts. "What's your GPA?"

"Four-point-four," you responded immediately.

MJ's eyebrows shot up, and she glanced back at the other team members, who nodded their approval. (Peter, of course, was the most enthusiastic in his nodding.)

"Tell you what, how about you sit in on our practice, and you write down your own answers while the others compete? We'll see how you do after every question."

Flash jumped out of his seat. "That's not how this works!"

"It is, now!" MJ announced, throwing an arm over your shoulder. You wanted to shrink a little at the contact- even Peter hadn't attempted so much as a side hug on you- but you resisted the urge.

"Don't make me tell Harrington," Flash growled.

"See if I care, Eugene," MJ sneered. "I'm the freaking captain." With that, Flash plopped back down into his seat, dejected.

You couldn't believe this chance that she was giving you. For once in your life, were you about to redeem a mistake that you'd made, rather than just make everyone forget about it?

You didn’t know it, but to everyone else, it looked like the decathlon team could potentially have a new member.

A/N: Sorry this took so damn long. I don’t have an excuse, besides work and all that.

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[thedeviltohisangel]

The Light In Me//3//Maybe When You’re Far Away

A/N: fill my inbox with theories, thoughts and anything you wish to see expanded on or in the future! enjoy .xx

masterlist

Fire had always been Michael’s thing. He controlled it with such grace, kept it crackling in their room constantly, always warm and welcoming. Penelope thought that the reason Michael had been intrigued by her in the first place was that he couldn’t control her. He had tried. Oh, had he tried. But all he got in return was her twinkling laughter and the way she spun in her dresses when she was filled with joy.

She had found a little clearing, an owl had directed her to it, and in her attempt to make the fire change shapes the way she had seen Michael do before, she had burnt the edges of her cloak. It had startled her more than it should have, she admitted so to herself. Ever since Michael had brought her here not a single strand of her hair even found its way out of place. She prided herself in being a simple being, not needing more than necessary or asking for things she could retrieve on her own. Her mother raised her to be independent and it was a quality of hers she held most dear.

As Penelope stomped out the flames she cursed herself for having become reliant on Michael. She would prove to him and to herself that she did not require his assistance in living a full life. The luxury he had provided her with could disintegrate when the bombs fell. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need the Sanctuary. And she certainly didn’t need the despair in the pit of her stomach that told her she actually did love Michael.

A flash of silver on the edge of the woods caught her attention and when she looked up she saw amber eyes looking back at her.

“Wolves,” she whispered to herself. When she was younger she had been scared of them. Had run and hid behind her mother’s legs when they approached her while she was out catching butterflies one day. It was then that her mother explained to her that the wolves were drawn to her the same way the butterflies were. “Come here.” Penelope turned her palm up and extended it towards the silver wolf that was slowly walking towards her. Behind followed three others.

As the first one reached her, he nuzzled her palm before knocking his head against hers. “Yes. It is very nice to meet you too.” Penelope giggled with pure joy at the feeling of her powers surging within her. Any new connections with living creatures made the light within her flare with happiness. She was moving to introduce herself to the rest of the pack when Michael came barreling through the brush.

“Penelope!” She felt the power surge within him as he registered the wolves surrounding her, his eyes beginning to roll to the back of his head. Her hands pressed against both of his cheeks. Black fire ran through her veins as she fought to bring him back from the dark place he was going.

“No, Michael. They haven’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt them.” Her heart felt lighter as his blue eyes slowly returned themselves to her. After a brief moment, Michael realized the wolves were looking at him as though he was the threat.

“You can talk to wolves?” he asked breathlessly, feeling a bit faint. Between the blood he had drained to speak to his father and the power his wife had physically drained from him, he felt lightheaded.

“Sit down. You’re bleeding.” In his haste to respond to her screams he had rushed out into the forest, blood and all with no shirt to cover his wounds.

“How is it I still have so much to learn about you, my love?” Michael questioned  as she wrapped her cloak around him.

“To be fair, I did spend the first bit of knowing you locked away in a separate room.” Penelope forgot that she was supposed to be mad at him. Livid. Disappointed. Betrayed. He always looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky and it was hard not to fall in love with him over and over again, every time he looked at her.

“I have been hurt, abandoned. Stabbed in the heart. But I wouldn’t change a thing, Penelope Langdon, because it brought me to you. Even if you leave me...I’ll have known what real love feels like and I could never thank you enough.”

“Michael…” her voice quaked as she stroked her fingers across his face. She pushed her forehead against his lips to which he granted a kiss.

“I am not going to plead with you to stay. I...I forced you to come here against your will in the first place. I should’ve known better than to cage a free bird.” Penelope had never been good at doing nothing in the presence of a broken heart. She pulled him against her and kissed him as though the sheer force of her lips against his could heal him. Heal his past from the house that ruined him. Heal the pain he had felt when he discovered the burning corpse of Miss Mead. Heal the memories that haunted his sleep because no one had accepted him as just a man before Penelope had come along. He sat up straighter in order to push against her. Michael wished for every square inch of skin and lips to be opposite hers. Tears were streaming down his cheeks because his heart could not bear the weight of the love he was feeling, it was too strong. Too powerful. Too all-encompassing for him to even remember to breathe.

Michael grew frantic. A voice in the back of his mind was telling him to claim her. That if he didn’t do it now then she would leave and he would never experience of the high of being with her again. He detached his lips from hers, palming her face so he could expose her neck to his teeth.

“Michael…” she whimpered as he dragged his teeth up her tender skin. What followed was his tongue, softly lapping at the marks he had left. Flicking against her neck the way she liked between her legs. All of her disappointment towards him was evaporating with each involuntary rock of his hips against hers. Maybe she could learn to live without a child. Michael’s lover for her and her love him could be enough. How could she ever abandon a man that made her feel like she was flying? “Bind to me.”

He stopped. His eyes open wide from where they have been half closed in a euphoric haze. Without meaning to he pushed her off of his lap where she had made herself at home and stood to try and get more distance between the two of them.

“Who told you about that?” She looked up at him from her place on the ground where the wolves had come to stand around her, sensing that the peace between the two was no longer as palpable.

“A voice in my head...It just...Just sprung on me. It felt like it was within me and calling out to you,” she explained as she looked anywhere but at him.

“Do you even know what that means? You would no longer have the choice to leave, Penelope. You would be tied to me in mind, body and soul. It is unbreakable.” He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. “Was it my father’s voice? He said for there to be a baby he would need another piece of your soul maybe this-”

“You went to your father about a baby?” A twinge hit her heart that Michael would willingly descend for her and her wishes. Speak to the man he held a complicated taste for.

“To see if there was anything he could do to prevent you from...I want to give you the world. I’d do anything to keep you happy. Even if it meant letting you go.”

“I’m willing...I’m willing to stay. To try. To make it work.” If she had to descend into Hell to see his father in order to be granted a baby she was at least willing to try. But she didn’t want to go down there, for a second time, feeling lost and untethered from the realm she called home. “I don’t want to go down there without being bound to you this time, Michael.” Nervously, she gripped his hand and looked into his eyes. He wiped gently where moisture was threatening to fall onto her cheeks.

“Okay. Okay, we can do it tomorrow. After I’ve healed and you’ve warmed up.” She nodded gratefully before pressing her lips back against his.

“I am sorry I ran out like I did. It was immature of me.” He shushed her gently by tapping his nose against hers.

“You have needs, Penelope. And I haven’t been meeting them. It is I who should be apologizing. You have been such a good wife and partner to me, the least I could be is the same.”

“Pinky promise then? We will both work to be better, together and for each other?” He eyed her little finger that she had extended towards him with a smirk before linking it with his.

“Come, let’s head inside and see what the kitchen can do about a midnight snack.” Michael extended his hand to help her up, pulling her into his chest once she was up. They moved to head back towards their castle when a whimper made them stop.

“They’d like to come,” Penelope said as she bent down to nuzzle the silver wolf as he approached her.

“We cannot take in four wolves as pets, Penelope.”

“Yes we can. They are not pets, they are protectors. I can name them after the Four Horsemen if that will more amenable to their presence?” He chuckled at her wit, pecking her forehead before he placed a guiding hand on the small of her back.

“Our own pack,” he murmured as they all began the walk home.

“Family,” she corrected gently as she admired how he was glowing in the light of the moon.

“Yes. So let’s add to it.” Penelope couldn’t help the laugh that wiggled its way passed her lips, spinning in delight. Michael was following her towards her dreams and she was following him towards his destiny. Neither truly knew what awaited them at the end but Penelope could only believe that their love was strong enough to guide them through. Her heart had always been the most reliable of compasses and right now it pointed at Michael. So she followed it fearlessly.

[pink1031]

You’ve Woken Up The Demon in Me. Part-2

Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader, Crowley, Castiel, Cole

Warnings: Violence, non-con, dub-con, language, rough sex, oral (male and female receiving),angst, smut, choking, general abuse, fluff (just a little)  

A/n: This is not for the faint of heart.  It is very dark (like my soul). Demon Dean is by no means fluffy at all.  This follows Season 10, episodes 1, 2, 3 with a reader insert. I did not follow everything exactly, but much of the dialogue is there and the same premise. Sorry if this is pure trash. 

Word Count: 6298

Part 1

@build-a-pyre

That was your life for the next week or maybe it was two, hell, you had no idea how long Dean had kept you in this same damn hotel room. Days started running together after a while and honestly you couldn‘t keep track. There was no schedule to anything, the blackout curtains were always drawn tight and you were never able to get more than a couple hours sleep at a time.  Dean would leave you handcuffed to the bed for a few hours while he was off with Crowley only to come back to the room for sex and to bring you food a couple times a day and then he would be gone again before staggering in in the early morning hours for another round of sex before falling asleep.  The sex was always rough and even rougher when you fought with him.  He kept your neck covered in bruises both from his mouth and from his hands. Dean had hit you a few more times when you had really fought back and the worst was when you had asked if you could call Sam to at least let him know you were alive. Your wrists were raw from the handcuffs and you were honestly tired of dealing with the pain. So, it was around day four or five or maybe it was day ten, who knows, that you had finally stopped fighting, too wore down both mentally and physically to struggle with the demon anymore. You had finally realized that no matter how much your brain told you to fight your body betrayed you every time Dean took you.  He always left you completely wrecked.   “Please Dean, I’ve got to get out of this motel room before I go crazy.” You pleaded with the man as you finished eating the burger he had brought you.   “I don’t know brat.” Dean replied as he moved over beside the bed and picked up the handcuffs looking at you.  “I’m still not convinced I can trust you.  You may try to run as soon as I let you out that door.” he motioned to the hotel room door as he spoke. “I promise I won’t run.” You rose from your seat at the small table and made your way over to Dean.  You pressed your naked body against his, your hands sliding up his chest as he wrapped one arm around your waist.  You stood on tiptoes so you could nuzzle against his neck placing soft wet kisses along his skin before nipping gently.  “I promise I’ll be a good girl.” You whispered against his neck. Dean titled his head back offering more of his skin for your lips as he moaned softly.  “Hmm,” he hummed softly as you kissed and sucked at the offered flesh, “I don’t know little brat.  I think you are going to have to prove to me that you can be my good little girl.” “I’ll do anything Dean, please.”  You bit down on his neck earning a groan from his lips. “Just get me out of this room.”  You flicked your tongue over the pulse that you felt beneath your lips.   “On your knees baby.” Dean growled softly.   You complied without hesitation, sliding your naked frame down the length of his body until you were kneeling at his feet staring up at him.  Dean reached down and ran his fingers through your soft locks smiling as his other hand worked at the buckle of his belt, tugging it open before pulling at the button and zipper on his jeans.  He shimmied his jeans and boxer briefs down his hips just enough to let his long hard cock spring free.   “Open wide brat.” Dean smirked as he gave your hair a tug.   You groaned softly at the tug on your hair.  Your hands slid up the length of his bowed legs until they rested on his perfect thighs.  Your tongue darted out to wet your full lips as you leaned forward toward the swollen head of his shaft.   Dean groaned at the sweet sensation of his cock sliding over your soft tongue as his hips thrust forward.  Your eyes never left his as your lips stretched around his girth.  Your cheeks hollowed as Dean began to thrust his hips.  His rock hard shaft slid easily back and forth between your clutching lips.  Each thrust of his hips fed you more and more of his cock until the hard head was pushing at the back of your throat.  You gagged softly as you took every inch that Dean gave you.  His moans growing louder as your throat pulsed around his rigid meat with every gag.   “Fuck baby, you’ve gotten so good at taking my cock.”  Dean growled as he tangled both of his hands in your hair now.   Your hands gripped his thighs tighter as his thrusts grew harder and faster.  You moaned around his cock as you sucked him eagerly.  Your eyes watered and drool began to leak from the corners of your mouth as he sank deep enough into your throat that his balls rested on your chin and your nose pressed into the thatch of hair at his base.   “You are so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth.” Dean praised in between grunts and groans of pleasure.  You couldn’t help but feel the wetness grow between your thighs as his cock filled your mouth.  Your pussy began to throb with need as Dean moaned the filthiest things as his hips keep their rhythm. “Such a good little cocksucker baby.  Love the way you gag on my cock.  You take it so fucking good brat.”   Your moans sent vibrations up and down his shaft making his head fall back as he groaned louder.  You couldn’t stop yourself as your hand left his thigh to slip between your own legs.  Your fingers quickly finding your throbbing clit and rubbing in rhythm with his thrusts.  Your moans grew louder around Dean’s throbbing cock and it drew his attention back down to you.  Dean watched your hand work between your spread thighs and his eyes grew wide in surprise.  You were surprised as well when he suddenly pulled you from his cock, his thick shaft exiting your lips with a pop.   “Does that pretty little pussy need some attention brat?” Dean looked down at you with raised eyebrows.   You bit at your full bottom lip and nodded your head as you stared up at his towering form.   “Say it brat.  Tell me what you need.”  Dean spoke, his voice gravelly with his desire seeing you like this.   “Fuck me Dean.” Your words were soft and need filled. “Damn baby.”  Dean moaned.  After all the fighting and the struggling that had occurred between the two of you since the night he had taken you he never thought he would hear those words.  He almost came undone right then at how sexy it sounded.   Dean quickly pulled you up to your feet and pulled your body to his. His lips pressed to yours and he kissed you passionately.  Everything seemed different from that moment on.  It was like his hands and lips were everywhere at once.  As if the man couldn’t get enough of you and for the first time, you were just as enthusiastic as he was.  Sure Dean had made you cum over and over again with his mouth, fingers, and cock but nothing felt as good as the orgasms that washed over you that night, the ones you gave to him willingly.   As you both lay spent against the bed with Dean’s arms cradling you against his chest you wondered why you had been fighting him at all.  You were sure, however, that later when you looked back on this moment you would chalk it up to self-preservation, temporary insanity, or maybe even Stockholm syndrome but right then you didn’t care and you pushed those thoughts aside.  All you knew is that your were tired of being scared and tired of fighting and this felt so much better.   ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ “Jesus Dean.” Crowley’s eyes were wide as he took in your appearance.  You knew how you looked, pale, dark circles under your eyes, your throat was covered in a mixture of bruises from Dean’s hands and mouth, your wrists wore angry red marks along with purple bruising from being cuffed and held down roughly. You knew your frame looked even smaller than normal since you were forced to wear one of Dean’s tee shirts since he had ripped yours that first night. “What?” Dean raised an eyebrow at Crowley as you both took a seat at the bar next to the king. “What the bloody hell have you been doing to the poor girl?”  Crowley returned Dean’s inquisitive gaze. “She looks like shit.” “Gee thanks Crowley.” You glared at the man as the bartender set your glass of whiskey down in front of you. Dean glanced your way and then turned back to Crowley cocking a smirking grin. “What can I say? She was stubborn as hell.”   “So we need to have a little chat Dean.” Crowley’s voice was suddenly more serious. Dean’s eyes were wide as he stared at the king of hell after listening to Crowley’s admission. “You sent those demons to kill me?” “To keep you sharp.” Crowley replied. “Really?” Dean scoffed at him. “If it wasn't for me throwing demon chum your way, what do you think would've happened? The mark needs to be sated. Otherwise…” Crowley held out his hands. “Otherwise, I turn into a demon. Yeah, yeah. I sort of got that weeks ago.” Dean looked at Crowley blinking his eyes into the pure onyx orbs before blinking them back again.   “Wait, weeks?”  You asked with raised eyebrows.  “How long was I in that damn motel room?”   Dean glanced your way but didn’t acknowledge your question any further. “Just trying to help.”  Crowley looked at Dean with a small smile. “You lied.”  Dean replied flatly before downing another shot. “Who do you think you're talking to here? Does the tin man have a sheet-metal willy? Of course I lied.”  Crowley stated exasperatedly, growing tired of this conversation.   Dean quickly stood up from his bar stool and grabbed your arm to tug you up with him. “Okay.” he stared down at Crowley.   “Hey sit down.” Crowley urged Dean but he simply stared at the king not releasing his grip on your arm. “I need to keep you sharp for our future, about which we need to talk.” Crowley continued. “Our future?” Dean asked raising one eyebrow. Crowley sighed softly. “Our professional future. How to put this? If I have to spend one more night in this fetid petri dish of broken dreams and B.O., I will cut off my own face.” Dean looked at you and then nodded back to your barstool.  You took your seat as he released your arm and he slid back onto his own barstool.  “I don't know what you're talking about. ‘Cause I'm good. “Dean turned his gaze to you and a grin curled his perfect lips. “Hell, I'm great.” “Really? How many suicide wings can you eat? How many one-hit wonders can you karaoke to death? I’m sure you and your little pet there have been having a grand ‘ol time.” Dean interrupted Crowley, “Okay, see, the deal was we howl at the moon, no time stamp, no expiration date.” “We've howled. We've bayed. I am sure you have done extraordinary things to Y/n, all of which have been massively entertaining. I will treasure our Flickr albums forever. But now it's time for us to accept what we are and go back to work.” Crowley eyed you for a moment before looking back to Dean. “Pass.” Dean stated as he motioned to the bartender to bring another round for you and him. “Think of it, the king of hell, Dean Winchester by his side. Together we rule. Together we create the perfect hell. And all of this that's bloomed between us never ends. We're not ending the party. We're just moving the party. Out with the club circuit, in with the stadium tour.” Crowley continued to try to convince Dean of his plan. You rolled your eyes as you listened and you couldn’t help but grunt your disproval.   “Oh, did I forget to mention I spoke to Moose earlier?” Crowley stated looking more at you than at Dean. “Sammy?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise earning you a growl from Dean at the mention of his brother’s name.  Dean glared at you with his black eyes and it made you shiver and you decided it was better if you kept quiet. “What?” Dean asked as he turned back to Crowley. “Yes. Uh, apparently, he's been tracking us for some time now. He got my text from the cell of that demon that you stabbed in blah, blah, blah. It was, words were spoken, emotions. I realize, in retrospect, perhaps too many words, too many emotions. He is quite worried about Y/n‘s wellbeing.” “He traced the call.” Dean shook his head and downed another shot. “My bad. I guess he'll be here by morning, the latest.” Crowley replied nonchalantly. “You sold us out. Well that’s just lovely.” Dean closed his eyes. You could feel the anger radiating from the man as he sat close to you. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. I truly don’t.” Crowley spoke as he rose from his barstool. “But I have had just about enough of it.  Sold you out? Try doing you a favor. Everything I have done for you for the past six months, the mark, the First Blade, mid-wifing you back to life, offering you a seat at my side, letting you bring the kitten along,” Crowley gestured to you, “has been a favor, a gift, whether you see it or you don‘t.” Crowley turned and began to walk away, stopping just a foot behind Dean and glancing over his shoulder. “Take the night. Decide. You know where to find me.” After spending the evening watching Dean getting drunk, while singing really bad karaoke you helped him stumble back to the motel room where you both fell asleep for a few hours.  Once Dean was awake, he decided it was time for the both of you to move on.  Although he didn’t come out and say it, you knew he was running away from Sam.   You were tucked into the passenger seat in the front of the Impala as Dean sped down the highway.  You were lying in the front seat with your head in Dean’s lap almost asleep when his phone rang causing your eyes to flutter open at the sound.  Dean held the phone in his hand for a minute before finally answering it and putting it on speaker as he drove. “I left you an open tab at the bar. Knock yourself out.” Dean spoke into the phone.   “Well, hell, I just may take you up on that.” The voice on the other end answered. The voice was not Sam’s. “And who is this?” Dean asked.  You looked up at him with questioning eyes as you moved to sit up in the seat beside him.   “Me? Well I’m karma brother.” The voice that you would later find out belonged to a man named Cole replied. “On my brother’s phone?” “On your brother’s phone.” Cole replied cockily. “Is he dead?” Dean asked almost casually.  Your heart began to race at the prospect that something bad had happened to Sam. “No. Not yet. And as long as you show up where I tell you to show up, your brother will be just fine.” Your hand moved to cover your mouth as you gasped softly.  You had to save Sam.  Your body tensed as your mind already began to calculate a plan for you and Dean to save his brother. “And how do I know he's still alive?” Dean asked. “Speak.” You heard Cole reply knowing he was supposedly talking to Sam. The phone was silent for a moment before you could hear a loud thud that sounded like flesh smacking harshly against flesh and you knew Cole had hit Sam.  The sound of Sam crying out in pain brought tears to your eyes. “Proof of life.” Cole spoke sounding almost proud and then you heard Sam’s voice. He was yelling. “Dean! Y/n!” “Sammy.” You whimpered and Dean’s head snapped to look at you. He glared at you as the tears streaked down your cheeks. “Got a pen?” Cole asked Dean. “No, you listen to me. There's no trade. There's no meet-up. There's no nothing, except the 100% guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you.” Dean had turned his attention back to the road.   “Well, that'll be a cold comfort to your dead brother.” Cole almost sounded shocked at Dean’s response. “I told him to let us go. So whatever jam he’s in now, that is his problem.”  You couldn’t believe your ears.  It had to be a ploy. Dean wouldn’t leave Sam in danger. “Yeah, well, I'll be sure to pass that on to him as I'm slitting his throat.” Cole threatened. “Yeah, you do that, 'cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word.” With those words Dean hung up the phone and slid it back into his pocket.   You stared at Dean in disbelief.  “You aren’t really going to leave Sam with that psycho are you? We have to help him Dean.”  You stared at the man beside you. “Not our problem.” Dean answered curtly.   “He is your brother and my best friend. Of course it is our problem Dean.” You argued. “I said no brat. Now drop it.” “Dean, we have to help Sammy.” You pleaded. Your pleas were met with Dean’s hand suddenly tangling in the back of your hair yanking your head back viciously making you cry out. “No.” he growled the one word. “And I am telling you for the last time I don’t want to hear his name from your lips again. Understood.” “Yes.” You whimpered as fresh tears flowed down your cheeks. “Good girl.” Dean released your hair snapping your head forward. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ You found yourself a few days later sitting in a mostly empty bar in the middle of the morning at a booth by yourself.  Dean had dumped you off with Crowley while he had gone off the night before to do some job that the king had sent him on.  Crowley had been your babysitter while Dean was gone.  You were bored out of your mind and your heart was aching as you thought about Sam.  You prayed that he was okay and you wished you could see him again.  Your heart broke at the thought of never seeing the younger Winchester again.  Your attention was suddenly drawn to the door as Dean strolled in.  His green eyes scanned the room until he saw you.  A soft smile curling his lips as he motioned you over to him.  You rose from your seat and went to his side where he wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you against his chest before Crowley approached. “Dean! How did it go?” Crowley greeted with a smile. “Fine. Fine. Uh, he is dead and you were right I feel, amazing.” Dean smiled and shifted you until you were by his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “He?” Crowley asked with raised eyebrows. “Uh, Lester.” Dean answered a little hesitantly. “The client? You killed the client?” “Does it matter? He was a douche. Now he is a dead douche.” Dean scoffed and you couldn’t help but giggle softly. Crowley shot hate filled eyes at you before looking back up at Dean. “Of course it matters! The deal was one dead wife for one soul. The wife’s not dead, I don’t get the soul. It’s math.” “Well…there you go.” Dean began turning away from Crowley with you at his side. “Hey don’t turn your back on me!” Crowley shouted at Dean. Dean turned around quickly his arm leaving your shoulder and he shoved Crowley hard chuckling darkly as the shorter man fell on his ass in the floor between his two lower level demons. “What do you think you are doing?” Crowley asked as he pushed himself up from the floor. “Oh whatever I want.” Dean replied, his lips curling in his signature cock grin. “Really? Because I think you don't know what you want. Tell me, Dean, what are you? A demon? If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Did you feel sorry for her? So maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black peepers, you’ve kidnapped and abused this little girl,” Crowley gestured towards you, “and you're working alongside me. Why don't you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?” Crowley practically screamed the last words at Dean. The anger flared in Dean. His jaw clenched tight. “Or what? Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. Y/n is none of your goddamn business, I ain't your fuckin' bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call. Until then, stay out of my way.” “Fine. It's over. What can I say? Crazy ones, well, they're good for a fling, but they're not relationship material.” Crowley looked at you as he spoke those last words. “Are you done?” Dean growled. “We're done. You know what, Dean? It's not me. It's you.” Crowley motioned to his demons and the shuffled past the two of you out the door.   You were left alone in the empty bar with Dean.  You and he had been sitting here for the better part of an hour.  You watched him in silence as you sat beside him on the piano bench as he was deep in thought and drinking his glass of whiskey while twirling the First Blade in his hand. Suddenly Dean spoke up. “Go in the back and don’t come out until I tell you to.” “But why Dean?” You asked. “Do it.” he snarled at you and you quickly obeyed unsure of what was happening but scared of the consequences if you didn’t do what he told you. Sam hesitantly made his way into the bar. His eyes scoping out the room until he saw his brother sitting at the piano. “Hiya Sam.” Dean spoke just barely turning his head to look at his brother. Sam just looked at his brother without speaking, his eyes continuing to dart around the room looking for you. “Hey Harv, why don’t you go grab a smoke.” Dean called to the bartender who nodded and left the room. “Who winged you?” Dean asked noting that his brother’s right arm was in a sling. “Does it matter?” Sam finally spoke. “Not really. I told you to let us go.” Dean stared down at the piano. “You know I can’t do that.  Where is Y/n?” Sam looked at his brother but when Dean didn’t answer, he continued. “By the way, your uh pal Crowley, sold you out.” “Sounds like him.” Dean chuckled as he stood up from the piano and began to make his way across the room towards Sam. Sam was on guard and defensive as Dean moved towards him. “Dean, hold on a second. You don't have to do this. Look, we know how to cure demons. You remember that and where is Y/n?” “Little Latin, lot of blood. It rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?” Dean continued to ignore Sam’s questions about you as he made his way past Sam to the bar. “That was Crowley.” Sam replied. “It really wasn’t.” Dean smirked as he reached back over the bar and grabbed the bottle of whiskey pouring himself another glass.

“It doesn't matter, all right? ‘Cause whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it. Now tell me where Y/n is.” Sam’s voice was a little louder with his agitation as he wondered where you were.   You had been standing around the corner listening to the conversation and you couldn’t take it anymore.  You had to see Sam, no matter the consequences.  You stepped out into the room and tears welled in your eyes at the sight of the younger Winchester. “Sammy.” Your voice sounded broken as you ran towards him and flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist.  He gave you a tight hug with his left arm, holding you close as his head dipped down to kiss the top of your head. Your moment of joy was short lived as Dean quickly reached out to you and grabbed a fist full of your hair wrenching you suddenly from Sam’s grip with a roar of anger. He tugged you back against his chest as he glared at his brother. “We‘ll fix it huh? ‘Cause right now, I'm doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out... with my teeth for just touching her. I'm giving you a chance, Sam. You should take it.”

“I’m gonna have to pass.” Sam’s eyes moved from Dean’s back down to yours as Dean held you in a tight grip.   “Well, I'm not walking out that door with you. I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?” Dean smirked. “No.” Sam replied firmly.   “Why? You don't know what I've done.” Dean looked down at you grinning, his tongue slipping out to lick at his full pink lips as his mind raced momentarily with all the things he had done to you over the past weeks.  He brought his eyes back to his brother, “I might have it coming.” “Well, I don't care. Because you are my brother. And I'm here to take you home.” Sam’s voice was trembling softly and he couldn’t help but stare at you, taking notice of all the bruises that had yet to fade from your body. “Hmm, ah,” Dean laughed, “you’re my brother and I’m here to take you home.” Dean mocked Sam. “Yeah, what is this, a Lifetime movie? Huh? With your puppy-dog eyes?” Dean laughed harder and finally released his harsh grip on you but continued to hold you against his chest. “Oh, thanks Sammy, I needed that.” Dean’s gaze turned back serious for a moment as he looked from you back to his brother. “Maybe I should tell you some of the things I have done. It might change your mind if I knew what I did to your sweet innocent angel here.” Dean nodded down at you. “Dean,” Sam warned but Dean continued. “Oh, she is definitely sweet Sammy. I know because I have tasted her, more times than I can count now but innocent,” Dean chuckled darkly, “afraid I took care of that part too. Took care of that the very first night.” Dean grinned as he saw the anger flare across Sam’s face. Dean was itching for a fight. “She may have fought it at first but oh Sammy, if you could see how she begs for it now. She is something else.  A real slut for my cock now.” Dean chuckled even as you began to sob silently. The humiliation washing over you at Dean’s words was almost too much to bear.   Sam took a deep breath to try to control his rage. He pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs that were carved with intricate sigils and held them at his side. “You really think those are gonna work?” Dean asked raising one eyebrow. Sam’s squared his shoulders determinedly. “There is only one way to find out.” Sam began to move forward and just as he got within a few feet of you both the sound of glass, shattering filled the room and a small silver canister landed at your feet spewing a cloud of smoke.  You and Sam instantly began coughing. Dean rolled his eyes at the interruption but quickly picked you up and hauled you over his shoulder as you coughed and your eyes burned.  Dean made his way out the back door of the bar. Setting you down against the wall just as a man pulled a gun and pointed it at Dean. “Wow, it’s really you.” Cole spoke as he pointed the gun at Dean’s head. Dean turned around slowly eyeing the man with the gun. “We met?” “Talked on the phone.” Cole kept his eye on Dean as he spoke. “Right. Right. You're the guy who's supposed to put a bullet in Sammy's brain. Did you miss?” Dean mocked as he began to circle Cole. “Well, I had a better idea. I figure if I let your bro escape, he'd go running to you, and all I had to do was just tag along. And now here we are, finally…Dean Winchester” Cole explained. “Great, a groupie.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You remember me?” “Yeah, yeah. You’re the guy from that thing.” Dean stated looking at the man with an exasperated look on his face. “Nyack, New York, June 21, 2003.” Cole stated with certainty that Dean should know what it meant. “That supposed to ring a bell?” Dean shrugged having no clue what Cole was talking about. “It was the night you gutted and murdered a man by the name of Edward Trenton. He was my father.” “Okay.” Dean simply nodded. “Okay?” The disbelief showing in Cole’s voice. “Well, hey, I'm not saying I didn't slice and dice your old man. I'm just saying that he wasn't the first, and he certainly wasn't the last, and they all just kind of get blended up.” Dean held his hands out as he spoke. “I saw you...that night...after. You let me live. That was dumb, real dumb. I spent half my life training for this moment. I've played out this fight a thousand times in my mind. And I know all about you, Dean-o. And you're good. Oh, you're real good. But, you see, I'm better.” Cole seemed cocky as he spoke. A grin curved his lips. He was looking forward to this fight. Dean egged the man on, “Do it. Take a shot.” “Now, that’s not payback.” Cole grinned as he holstered his gun and pulled out a knife, turning it in his hand as the sunlight glinted off the steel. “This is payback.” You watched as the men began to fight. Dean was quickly and easily blocking every move Cole made.  Cole continued to get angrier and more frustrated as he was never able to land a blow on Dean.   “You know...And I'm just spitballing here, but, uh, maybe...you are not as good as you think you are.” Dean grinned at Cole as he pulled Cole’s gun from his holster and emptied the clip on the ground. “Oh you know Kung-Fu?” Dean asked as he looked up at Cole who held his hands out in front of him in a classic martial arts stance. “I know everything.” Cole replied still confident he was going to win this. “Well come on.” Dean braced himself for the furious onslaught that was coming from Cole. In only minutes, Dean had beaten the poor man down to the ground.

Dean stood over Cole mocking the smaller man as he lay on the ground. “What did you think was going to happen huh? You just stroll up in here and say “my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die’ and I’d just roll over? Well, that’s just, it makes me sad.” As Dean stayed bent over by the groaning man, Cole quickly pulled a knife and lashed out, cutting a slice across Dean’s face.  You watched with wide eyes knowing the man has just sealed his fate and Dean, who had just been playing with man up until now, was going to kill him.  Dean quickly wrapped his large hand around Cole’s throat and slammed him against the side of a nearby parked car. You winced as you watched Dean choke the man, knowing exactly what that felt like.  Your breath started coming faster as the panic ran through you.  Watching Dean choke Cole brought back and flood of memories of your first night with the demon and your heart began to race as the fear washed over you and you began to have a full-blown panic attack. “You have no idea what you walked into here, do you? None.” Dean snarled. “What are you? “ Cole asked with wide eyes as he struggled to breathe. Dean had the First Blade pulled and pressed against Cole’s throat. “I’m a demon.” Dean replied to Cole’s question as Cole watched Dean heal right before his eyes. Cole knew in that instant he was beat and he just wanted it to be over. “Do it! You said if you saw me, you would kill me, so do it!” he screamed at Dean. Dean released his grip on Cole and put the blade away. “I guess I changed my mind.” Dean began to turn and walk away but Sam was right behind him. Dean screamed out as Sam quickly doused him with holy water and brought Dean down to his knees, his skin smoking wherever the water had touched him, before slipping the etched cuffs around Dean’s wrists. Dean struggled against his brother as Sam yelled at him. “Stop. It’s over. It’s over.” Dean glared up at his younger brother but was completely helpless now.  Sam drug Dean to the back of the Impala and quickly cuffed him in the backseat to the door before rushing to your side.  You were sitting on the asphalt against the brick wall, your breathing ragged and tears streamed down your face. You had your knees pulled up to your chest and you were rocking back and forth. “Hey, hey, Y/n.” Sam reached out to you, gently stroking your back. “Can you hear me sweetheart?”  You didn’t respond, your body was shaking and you continued to rock back and forth.  “Y/n, sweetie, breathe.” Sam spoke softly as he continued to stroke your back. “It’s all over sweetheart. I got you, I got you now.”  Sam wrapped his arm around you and held you against his chest until your breathing became steadier and he finally heard your small soft voice say his name.   Sam smiled as he looked down at you.  “I’m right here Y/n.  You are safe now.  It’s going to be okay. I promise.” Sam kissed the top of your head softly and helped you to your feet.  He led you gently over to the car and helped you into the front seat.   Dean glared at you as you curled up in the front seat.  “Thanks for the fucking help back their, brat.” You couldn’t even look at Dean. You sat in the front seat staring ahead watching as Sam and Crowley talked.  A few minutes later Sam crawled into the driver’s seat.  He started up the car and looked over to you.   “You okay?” He asked softly as his large hand reached out to gently stroke your cheek.   Dean growled a warning from behind you and it made you jump and pull away from Sam’s touch.  You nodded your head softly in reply to Sam and then curled in on yourself, pressing your body to the passenger side door.   Sam sighed and the engine of Baby roared as he pulled out of the parking lot to head back to the bunker.   The three of you had been riding in silence for a few moments before Sam finally spoke again. “This thing is filthy.” Sam frowned as he picked up a piece of trash on the dash. “It’s just a car, Sam.” Dean replied from the back seat. “It’s just a…car. Wow, you really have gone dark.” Sam’s eyes were wide. “You have no idea.” Dean replied, his eyes not meeting Sam’s but staring at the back of your head. “You know what, Dean? I saw what happened back there. You could have killed that guy, and you didn't. You took mercy on him.” Sam glanced back at his brother in the rear view mirror and then turned his gaze to you. You looked so small, smaller than Sam remembered ever seeing you look. You felt Sam‘s gaze on you and you turned to look at him smiling softly. “You call that mercy? Imagine you spend your whole life hunting down the guy that knifed your father. When you finally find him... He whips you like a dog. How do you think that feels? That kid's gonna spend his whole life knowing that he had his shot and that he couldn't beat me. That ain't mercy. That's the worst thing I could have done to him.” Dean smirked as he looked out the window.   Sam’s jaw clenched at Dean’s response, you could see his body visibly tense, and it made you feel sorry for him.  You knew the hell you had been through since Dean had become a demon but you knew Sam had been in his own kind of hell since you and his brother had disappeared.  You suddenly needed to be closer to Sam and you slowly slid across the seat until you nestled yourself in at Sam’s side.  Sam lowered his head and placed a soft kiss to the top of yours.   Dean watched from the backseat. His anger flaring as he watched the little exchange with you and his brother. “And what I'm gonna do to you, Sammy... Well, that ain't gonna be mercy, either.”

[imagineaworlds]

4 ARGUE

summary: Felicity Stark is the cousin of the one and only Tony Stark. While she’s done a good job of staying out of the public eye, the world doesn’t know that she’s an Avenger by the name of Selestra. But when the Avengers are divided by belief, Felicity is forced to part from her cousin. However, her choices land her back home in New York where she meets a cute boy in her class names Peter Parker. Only problem is, he’s been sent by Tony to keep an eye on her.

pairing: peter parker x female!avenger!oc

word count: 2,009

warnings (for entire series): cursing. mild violence.

(1) - (2) - (3) - (4) - (5)

Felicity stirred awake slowly, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the light around her. Through a curtain, the sun was shining into the room, the birds and bugs chirping outside. As her eyes fluttered open, Felicity found herself back in her bedroom in the Avengers compound. Alarmed, Felicity fought to get out of the sheets and comforter. this is a bad dream. that’s all. But it was no bad dream. Everything around her was real, she was really back. steve… Felicity thought in a panicked worry.

Startled by his sudden entrance through the wall, Felicity stumbled back when she saw Vision. “Vis, you have to get me out of here,” Felicity pleaded. “I have to help them.”

Vision sighed as he gestured for Felicity to take a seat on the edge of her bed. “It’s alright, Felicity,” he told her calmly. She was confused. “Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes have succeeded in clearing the Winter Soldier’s name. The true culprit has been arrested. His name is Helmut Zemo, and he has admitted to his crimes, which include framing Sergeant Barnes.”

Felicity felt herself slouch back in both relief and sadness. “Where are they?” She went to stand to go looking for them, but Vision stepped in her path.

“As of now, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff are on the run as fugitives. The others are still incarcerated.” Vision paused himself as he looked over his shoulder at the door. “Follow me.”

Vision opened the door for Felicity, and walked behind her after she passed him. More than anything, Felicity just wanted to know where they were going and what was happening. What did Vis mean by “incarcerated”? Where was Clint, Wanda, and Scott? Why wasn’t she in prison? For once, she just wished she could read Vis’ mind. In the past, Felicity enjoyed Vision’s company because he had no thoughts running through her head. She was at peace around him. But now, Felicity no longer knew him for who he was.

They were headed for the glass walled boardrooms. On the far end, Felicity saw Tony sitting at a table across from a man Felicity knew well. Over the tall desk chair, she saw his salt and pepper grey hair, and as he spun the office chair around, she couldn’t help but stare at the awful mustache glued to his upper lip. When Ross saw Felicity and Vision approaching, he stood to shake Tony’s hand before leaving the boardroom. As they passed each other in the hallway, they gave one another a dirty look.

Again, Vision opened the door for Felicity, then closed it when she was inside. The cousins stayed opposite each other, still quiet. In the moment, Felicity couldn’t help but miss the time when things were fine between her and Tony… they loved each other unconditionally, and all that mattered was keeping each other safe. She hoped that whatever he had to say next would rebuild that crumbling bridge.

As Felicity sat down, Tony leaned over the desk, “I’m sorry, Letty…” he muttered under his breath, but she heard him. “I want him to come back just as much as you do.

Carefully, Felicity put a hand over his, “So, help him come home.” Tony pulled away from his younger cousin, and she could sense that he wasn’t only pulling away physically. His thoughts were blue with sadness and regret, but retreating as he tried to shelter his thoughts from her. Felicity broke her concentration on Tony’s thoughts. “Don’t push me away, Tony…”

Tony adjusted his tie, “I spoke with Ross.”

“Clearly,” Felicity scoffed at the change of subject. “Let me guess, he’s sending me to the Raft, also.” Tony didn’t say anything. “You can’t do this, Tony,” she attacked. “We were a family before all of this. We were all happy here. Why’d you have to do this?”

“Me?” Tony snapped. “I did this, Letty? There was no choice in this, Ross was clear about that; but you and Steve decided it would be better for me to reveal your identity than to just sign on the goddamn dotted line so we could keep saving lives together. Don’t blame this on me. I wanted us to keep being happy, to stay a family… but the minute you, Sam, and Steve hopped on the first jet out of here, it was no longer possible.”

“So what now, then?” Felicity egged him on. “You lock me up in the darkest hole, throw the key away, and make Sam and Steve play a giant game of sardines?”

Tony’s thoughts spiked red as he burst out, “No! You know I just sat through three hours with that man to argue getting you out of the Raft? Finally, he budged. Finally, he said I didn’t have to send you there, because if I did that, I would never forgive myself.” Tony’s voice shook as he caught his breath. “The first option was the Raft or death. Then, we agreed it was either the Raft or send you home.” Felicity was about to tell him she was home, but he saw it coming. “No, he means that I have to send you back to Queens, to your parents.”

Suddenly, Felicity felt her limbs go numb, her heart fall to her stomach, and tears well in her eyes. “W—  What?” she croaked. “Tony…”

Tony wiped his eyes, “It’s not my choice, Letty. It’s the last thing I want to do to you, but it’s better than the Raft, trust me.”

“You can’t send me back there,” she whispered, unable to speak up. “Please, Tony, I’ll do anything.” Tony scratched at the wood table just to avoid eye contact with her. “You’re abandoning me like they did… but you’re sending me somewhere worse. Just tell Ross I’ll go to the Raft willingly. Anything. Please.” Felicity didn’t bother the tear that ran down her cheek. In all of her life, Felicity had never been so heartbroken.

All of those years ago, Tony promised to keep her safe, to protect her… it’s why he took her in… He always thought that Steve was more of a father to Felicity than him, but it wasn’t true. Tony was her dad, and now he was sending her back to the man who hates being associated with her. She didn’t want to go back, she couldn’t.

“You will be attending school in Queens. You are required to participate in at least one extra curricular activity. The Selestra suit is not allowed to go with you, it must stay in storage here. If at any point you break the rules, you will be sent to the Raft immediately. Most importantly—  Ross made this very clear—  you may not have any contact with Steve, Sam, or Bucky. If they attempt to contact you, you are required to contact me as soon as you receive contact.”

Felicity couldn’t bear to hear another word, couldn’t bear to listen to anymore of Tony’s regretful thoughts. It wasn’t Tony who was talking to her, it was Ross. Of all people, Ross knew how to get to Felicity. And he did. He always did. That’s why she hated him as much as she did. It was happening all over again, she could tell by the way things were so familiar. She was being abandoned again, but there was no one who she loved to get her and take her in their arms.

Slowly, things in Felicity’s room made their way into her suitcase, only packing what she could. Every so often Tony would knock on the door and ask to speak with her, but she didn’t want to talk to him. Through the door, he offered to have her things taken in boxes back to Queens, however Felicity insisted she didn’t want his help. So she fit everything she could into her suitcase, and then waited.

When she was packed, Felicity sat on the floor, and rested her back on the side of her bed. She tried her hardest to tune him out, but Tony had never left the door as he was waiting to hug her when she came out. He was trying to talk to her using his thoughts because he knew how much she struggled with ignoring him when she was upset.

let me in, letty. please. Nothing. i’m so sorry… please don’t hate me. Tony quietly chuckled through the door, “I remember when I first took you in and you couldn’t say Pepper’s name, so you called her ‘Peepo’. You didn’t believe us when we told you her name was Pepper. ‘She’s named after a food?!’ you said. Then you grew up, started calling her Ms. Potts… I couldn’t stop you from growing up. And I know it’s selfish, but I wanted you to stay that little girl forever, untouched by the bad in this world. Maybe if I hadn’t got caught up in all of this, you wouldn’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Tony,” Felicity responded, breaking her silence. “You’re the only family I have left. I just don’t want to leave you. It’s all my fault… I went away, I helped Bucky escape. I wonder if things would be different if I just stayed. Maybe Rhodey wouldn’t be in the hospital—”

Tony shuffled outside, “That had nothing to do with you. Don’t you dare blame yourself.” Felicity tried her best to hold back a sob as she tucked her knees into her chest. “Come on, kid,” Tony played with the door knob, “Just open the door.” Felicity eyed the door knob, watching it twist and turn as Tony tried to enter. i love you. Her jaw quivered as she ran to the door, unlocked it, and swung it open. Instantly, Felicity found herself in Tony’s embrace. “I love you so much, Letty.”

“I love you, too.”

They parted from their hug, both clearing their face of tears and red eyes. As Tony sniffed, he grabbed a present bag from the hallway that he had brought with him. It was decorated with a bow holding the handles together. “If anyone asks, this isn’t from me,” he told her as he handed over the gift. It felt like things were suddenly official, that this was the last thing they would do for each other. “So… since I technically don’t know about this, don’t open it while I’m here, okay?” Felicity nodded, unable to smile in thanks for the gift. “Ah, stop it. That’s enough crying, alright?” Tony kissed the top of Felicity’s head before walking out of the room and turning the corner down a different corridor.

Felicity watched him leave before closing her door again and opening the gift. After untying the bow and pulling out the tissue paper, Felicity saw a large box hidden inside. Felicity removed the box carefully before sitting on bed while opening it. Inside the box was a red suit with a golden secondary color. On the chest plate was a golden A for Avengers, but when Felicity picked up the suit to inspect it, the emblem disappeared until she set it back down.

Under the suit was a letter addressed to her. Felicity picked it up gingerly before opening the letter. “Dear Letty, I made this for you a long time ago, after New York when I was spending night and day working on my suits. I was hoping that you would wear it as Selestra, but fashioning Iron Man’s famous colors. However, you wanted to be different. You insisted on a purple suit, so I made one for you. Ross told you that you can no longer have your Selestra suit, but I hope you take this and become someone greater than before, someone who is really you, untouched by the Avengers. I also hope that it reminds you of me. Since you are no longer officially an Avenger, I can’t put the emblem on it for public viewing, but it’s there when you need a reminder of home. I love you, Letty.”

marvel family: @blu3-wine @unicorn-princess-1999 @esoltis280 @edmunds-torch @smolbeanholland @janetthegiantt @sardonicxhumor @xxsbbxx @roschele @flewe @madhatterweasley @fallen-imagine-angel  @peggy1999

series family: @rachieidfk  @sweetpeaandserpents  @shawnmendes-thewriter  @captainhargrove @peggy1999

[g0ldpainted]

Ignis cheating on fem!S/O

Hey guys C:

This is the 4th part of the series - all chocobros are complete! Ravus is still on the way. I re-wrote so much for Ignis because I suddenly had better ideas - I hope you enjoy. c:

1st Part ; 2nd Part  // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ravus cheating 

Words: 6250+

Genre: Angst, heartbreak, betrayal

Spoilers: None

Trigger warnings: Cheating, pregnancy, depression, explicit sexual act depicted briefly

Having an incredibly organized husband was everything but relaxing. Ignis and his wife had been married for over 6 years, dating for 10 - by now she knew all of his quirks. The pillows on their couch had to be in a certain pattern, fresh ingredients had to be bought daily or at least every second day, the kitchen had to be cleaned thoroughly after every meal, the dishwasher had to run daily,… 

Although Ignis didn't enjoy doing household chores, he managed most of them. He was the one setting up rules that his wife and their two children had to follow. However, he wasn't always being strict about it, he let them slip quite often. Ignis was far from an actually strict dad and husband. But he loved rules, patterns, arranged processes. It made him feel at peace. That's why his wife and him also had weekly dates. Every Friday was their special day. From a romantic dinner to movie night or a games evening - you name it, they did it. Both agreed that it was important to have some alone time even with two gorgeous children. But as of recently, he called those date nights off because he had to work late almost every day. It was rare that his wife returned from her job, the kindergarten and then found her husband at home. Now, more than ever, she was the one picking up their children from the kindergarten, cooking them some dinner and taking them to bed. Usually, Ignis at least took over the cooking part - it was just something he was incredible at - but not anymore. Even the majority of house chores were left undone by the time she came home. Assuming her husband was going through a hard time, had a ton of work, she willingly did all of them in hopes he'd appreciate it. Unfortunately, he didn't.

Whenever he came home in the middle of the night, he was grumpy, fed up with the world and completely ignored his wife. On weekends, everything seemed to be going smoothly. They spend time with their children, went on trips, kissed and had a normal relationship. Except for making love. As of recently, Ignis denied all sensual acts of his wife. She bought new lingerie, new bra's - anything to possibly please him. It was no secret that Ignis loved some stockings, too. But nowadays nothing seemed to ignite that flame within him. Needlessly to say, his S/O felt neglected. 

Usually when Ignis was not in the mood for a while, due to stress, he still helped her get off - not always but sometimes. Back then he still cared about not leaving her desperate for too long. Now it didn't bother him at all. 

Of course she started searching for reasons, blamed herself, thought she was unattractive, that she was no longer desirable. And when she wanted to talk to Ignis about their relationship issues, he shook it off, didn't want to hear her talk. He wasn't up for her complaining, wasn't having it. A great distance between the two was the result of that. She slept on her side of the bed, Ignis on his. No cuddling, spooning - nothing. She didn't know he was busy hating himself, cursing himself out over cheating on her. He knew what he did was wrong.. But he couldn't stop. 

Ignis met a younger female at a bar. It was an evening he spent out and about because he fought with his beloved wife. It was a tiny argument about dirty laundry that exploded into an unnecessary mess. To cool down, he visited the bar. It was only 5 minutes away. But at that bar, he met a delicate woman. At first none of them had bad intentions, Ignis pointed out he was married right away.. But once the alcohol got the best of him, it was too late. And now this one evening created an undoable chaos within him. He couldn’t stop meeting the young woman. 

She was delicate, pretty, adventurous and on top of all that, incredibly good in bed. It was refreshing, making him feel younger and insanely handsome. The king's advisor enjoyed being desired by younger women. While they didn't meet all too often, he spent most of the time lusting for her, impatiently waiting for their next meet up to take place. So whenever his beautiful wife tried to seduce him, he felt guilty. He knew she didn't deserve this and he was well aware about the risks he was taking. Not once did he have unprotected intercourse. And on his phone she was saved as Hanzo. They never texted about anything lewd, only the most important details. He was planning this through to make sure his wife would never find out - it'd destroy their marriage for sure.

But sometimes even advisors make mistakes, have little slip ups. Well, in this case, it wasn't even his fault.

"Hey honey, I'm home" Ignis' wife shouted as she entered their house while carrying their 3 year old son.

No reply. As usual, Ignis didn't reply and the smell of a nice dinner wasn't teasing her nose either.

"He's having another bad day.." she thought to herself, sighing. 

"Sweeties, mommy will make you some nice pancakes, alright?" she suggested to her two children, their 4 year old daughter stumbling past her.

"Pancakes?" her son wondered, playing with her hair.

"Exactly, don't you want some?" she smiled at him, pretending she wasn't feeling sad inside - their children shouldn’t be part of their marriage troubles.

"Yeees!" their daughter exclaimed, clapping her hands from excitement before hurrying to the kitchen, "Daddy!" 

"He is home..?" his S/O wondered, slowly putting her son down on the floor.

"Can you take off your shoes on your own?" Ignis' wife asked their son, smiling down at his eyes - he inherited his father's ones.

Eagerly nodding, the little boy sat down on the floor and started taking off his shoes.

"Good, I'll be waiting for you in the kitchen" she replied, bending down to place a soft kiss on her son's forehead before taking off her own shoes and hurrying to the kitchen.

In their kitchen she saw Ignis holding his daughter, already preparing the pancakes.

"You're home.." she whispered with a smile, "Hey." 

"Hey" he replied, turning around to look at her.

For a few seconds the couple just stared at each other. That something was off was undeniable - it was Ignis' secret. Nonetheless, Ignis stepped back to give her a quick kiss. Those hi-and-goodbye kisses were the only ones she got ever since he started being distanced. Before that, Ignis kissed her all over, her body received tons of love, but now he hardly kissed her lips. It sure saddened her.

"Awh sweety, you forgot to remove your shoes" she reminded their 4 year old daughter after their quick kiss.

"Oops" she giggled, wiggling in Ignis' arm.

Eventually, he put her down and she quickly rushed to her brother to take off her shoes. The couple was now alone, standing in the kitchen they chose when they had bought this house.

"I'm glad you're home.. The kids have been missing you" his S/O broke the silence, stepping over to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, hugging him from behind, "I missed you."

"I was busy at work.. It was stressful. I apologize for leaving you alone with our children." he apologized, partly lying - he did feel bad about what he did.. But what he did wasn't work, it was another female, "I missed you, too."

"What does your schedule for this week say? Date night on or off?" she wondered, placing a gentle kiss on his neck.

"I- uh.. It seems I have been given a late night shift" he far-fetched another lie.

"Does that mean we could have some breakfast in bed?" she suggested, watching him flip the pancakes.

"Uhm.. I fear have some chores to do in the morning hours.." he spat out another lie to avoid his wife.

Sighing, she retracted herself from him. Again, he was rejecting her. It hurt her greatly. After all, they had been together for a decade - not once did he grow tired of her. Sure, they had bad phases but they never lasted for 3 months. It's been 3 entire months since they last shared proper physical intimacy. His wife was getting lonely even when she slept beside her husband every night. It wasn't the same anymore; he had no interest in her.

"I'll.. Set the table" she excused herself, grabbing silverware for everyone.

"Okay" he replied, regret showing in his voice - he hated rejecting his wife.. But he just couldn't shower two people with affection.

It didn't take long before a bunch of pancakes were ready to be digested. Both their children were overly excited. Most of the time, their food was very healthy and quite low on carbs.. But the couple's struggle was beginning to wear off on their children, so they wanted to pamper them a bit. They always asked for their father when he was gone for too long, got upset when it was the tenth day in a row their mother read bedtime stories to them and weren't even trying to pretend they liked their mother's food. Their daughter always pointed out how she didn't see her parents hug anymore, said they were acting differently and wanted an explanation for that. All their mother ever told them was that their father was very stressed. She didn't know he was stressed about his own mistakes that he continuously committed, instead of work.

During dinner, the couple pretended everything was fine, held hands for the sake of their children and smiled at each other even when both of them were struggling to lift the corners of their mouth. It was wrong, all a façade.. But it was all for their offspring.

Once everyone ate up, they were allowed to play for a few more minutes before it was time to get ready for bed. Meanwhile, Ignis' wife helped him clean the kitchen, no words were exchanged. There was nothing left to say. All those times she tried to find out what she did wrong, he sent her off, told her to drop the subject. She had no answer, didn't know what to do about this. The only thing she knew was that her husband didn't seem to love her anymore. The pain of carrying that burden was almost unbearable.

"Are you.. Taking the kids to bed?" she asked her husband, quickly glancing over at him.

"Yes" he replied, not bothering to look at her, instead cleaning the used pan.

"Don't forget to give them a bath" she added, lowering her head.

"I won't" he murmured, concentrating. 

"Okay.. Are.. We gonna go to bed afterward?" she shyly asked, hoping he'd say yes.

"I guess" he shrugged.

Gulping, she nodded. Although she was hurt from his behavior, her body still tingled all over when she thought of him touching her. He was her drug - but she wasn't his. She was at a point in which she couldn't shrug it off anymore. She couldn't ignore her lust for him. Her body needed his touch; she needed his love. Luckily, her recent order of new lingerie arrived just in time.

"One more try.." she thought to herself, biting her lip hard.

"I'll wait for you then" she announced, dropping hints that she was hoping to not be rejected again.

"Okay" he coldly answered, not showing interest - again.

Swallowing down her sadness, she went to say goodnight to her children, announced that their father would take over for today and that she was tired. Then she headed into their bedroom and locked the door to be sure her children wouldn't walk in. Pulling the new box of lingerie out from below their bed, she slowly stripped from her clothes and into it. It fit her well. The red lace covered every important bit and hugged her curves amazingly. It complimented her body, fit her just right. She loved looking at herself in their mirror. To hide her package, she put on a matching silk robe and knotted it with a bow, then she unlocked the door again. As little extra, she put on stocking and matching make up. It all boosted her confidence tremendously. 

Ignis certainly wasn't prepared for this.

After he bathed their children, read them some bedtime stories, prepared their breakfast for kindergarten and basically cleaned the entire house in an hour, he finally walked into their bedroom. His wife was standing in the corner of the room, praying he'd approach her.. But he just sighed. Turning around, she grinned at him and slowly swayed her hips over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck right after.

"Iggy, I miss you" she whispered as seductively into his ear as she possibly could. 

Gulping, he carefully put his hands on her hips. That was more than he usually did.

"Don't you miss me too?" she wondered, gently kissing his jawline.

"I do" he admitted - oh, and how bad he missed her.

At that, her heart skipped a beat. Usually he already told her to put some clothes on by now.. But he didn't this time! Eventually she cupped his face with her hands and started kissing him passionately. He returned each and every single kiss, certainly enjoyed it but he felt guilty. He knew he shouldn’t do this. The kisses were enough to inflame her and when his hands traveled up her covered frame, gently tugging on the bow to open her robe, her legs started trembling. She was excited, thirsty for him. This was the first time in months he touched her. For just a moment, he pulled away, wanting to get a good glance at the goddess before him. Praying to the astrals didn't help him, that sight undoubtedly turned him on. He almost forgot how good-looking and blatantly gorgeous his wife was. When her robe hit the floor, he bit his lip hard. Holding his hand out, waiting for her to take it, he sincerely enjoyed the sight. Once she placed her soft hand in his, he spun her around, making her giggle and him smile.

"You're beautiful" he whispered, placing his hands back on her hips and pulling her closer.

Her heart skipped a beat at that. Hearing him say it was so rare nowadays. And when he went as far as to ravish her neck with hickeys, teasing kisses and gentle bites, she almost lost it. She couldn't contain her moans when he kissed her soft spot.

It was amazing. They spent tons of time on foreplay. Kisses and hickeys trailed down her body until he made it to her most sensitive spot. He didn't forget to eat his dessert. The sensation overwhelmed her, she came multiple times just from that. By the time she paid him back, got a taste of his ‘lollipop’, she already felt spent.. But she wasn't going to stop now. While she was easy to tickle off the edge, getting Ignis off took forever. It didn't bore her, but her knees hurt afterward. For a brief second it worried her that her husband seemed to take longer to orgasm compared to a few months ago, but when she felt a finger enter her, it all disappeared. Through this entire session, he kept his shirt on. It sure bothered his wife, he was well built and she really just wanted to feel his skin rub against hers, so after he stretched her, she tugged on it. Being carried away by the moment and - for the first time in a while - full of lust for his wife, he forgot why he kept it on. Once she was laying beneath him, completely naked and ready for him, he let her take it off and began rubbing his tip against her wetness, coating himself with it. Even though she pulled his shirt off, she wasn't bothered about looking at his torso while he was teasing her so eagerly. She enjoyed every second of it.

"I'll go in" he whispered into her ear, biting her earlobe delicately, waiting for a nod.

"Mmhm" she hummed in agreement, wrapping her arms around his bare torso. When he finally slipped in, she threw her head back. For months she had been anticipating this exact moment. Within the first few minutes, she was already on the edge again. She was way too busy arching her back up and scratching his back to actually look at him. The pleasure was too much - but she loved it dearly. When she was at her peak again, she lifted her head and gently bit into his shoulder. Her entire body shook from pleasure as she climaxed again. During it, she opened her eyes for the first time since they started going at it. As she laid her head back down on her pillow, she saw tons of hickeys all over Ignis' shoulder to collar bone area. Some were even on his chest. It took her a few moments to realize that those were not hers. She was too drunk on pleasure to remember that she hadn't seen her husband naked for 3 entire months. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing that she was fixing onto something. 

Pulled out of her pleasure-cloud, she blinked a few times. Ignis was already in the process of stopping, unsure of what was going on with his S/O. Her eyes widened once she actively stared at those purple bruises on her husbands body. Realizing what she was staring at, Ignis immediately pulled out of her - but he had no idea what to say.

"Who's hickeys are those?" she asked in between her ragged breaths, slowly beginning to frown.

At that, he only gulped. He was caught. His lies were about to be revealed.

"Ignis, who left those hickeys on your body!?" she repeated, faintly raising her voice while she quickly hid her body with one of their blankets, "That surely wasn't me."

Thinking clearly was still difficult for her, she still had to calm down from her highs, so for now, she didn't even understand that he had been cheating on her. It didn't sink in. She only saw the hickeys and didn't understand them. The feeling of betrayal had yet to come. 

Suddenly, loud thumping bangs were sent against their entrance door. They were so loud, they even heard them in their bedroom. It was 11pm, they didn't expect visitors. But without hesitating, Ignis threw on a shirt, some boxers and pants and hurried down the stairs. He didn't even bother telling his wife what he was doing, nor giving her an answer. It was because he had a very bad feeling about this visitor. There was only one person that could potentially be visiting them at such late hours - even if she wasn't supposed to.

"Iggy, open up!" his affair begged from the outside of their door, throwing her fists against it again.

Judging by her sobs, he assumed she was crying and mentally prepared for the worst. And it was the worst. His wife was a little slow to catch up but certainly wasn't stupid. She quickly cleaned herself and threw on her underwear and a bathrobe before following.

"I specifically told you not to come over - ever" Ignis greeted her, frowning deeply while his heart was racing a mile a minute.

"It's an emergency!" she pleaded him.

Ignis gave in, let her into the house he shared with his family, the place she was never supposed to be at.

"Ignis.. I.. Look.. I'm.. Pregnant," the affair announced right away.

His eyes widened from shock and his breathing hitched - not in his wildest dreams did he deem this to be a possibility; he was being so careful when he was with her. The two walked towards their living room, his affair was pale, visibly shaken because she very well knew of the consequences this could lead to. Meanwhile, his wife clumsily stumbled into the living room, holding onto the walls. Her head was aching terribly from all this pleasure and her legs were trembling - she wasn't used to this anymore.

"You're pregnant..?" Ignis repeated, taking her hand in his to reassure her, "And it's my baby?" 

"You were the only guy I had sex with" she affirmed him, using her free hand to take out the two positive pregnancy tests she carried in her bag, "It has to be your child." 

At first, his wife thought she was hearing things - her worst fears - and groaned from her pain.. But when she saw the two sitting on their couch, next to each other, Ignis' holding one of her hands while the female held a pregnancy test in her other, she snapped out of it entirely. Inhaling sharply, her eyes shot wide open. His affair turned her head, hugged him while she was crying into his neck, he barely returned the favor knowing his wife could see it all.. But deep inside, he wanted to embrace her into his warmth. 

"This can't be real.." she thought to herself, slowly feeling her heart break, "Has he really been cheating on me..?"

Feeling confused and upset at the same time, she just watched them hold one another. Ignis continuously whispered assuring words into his affairs ear in an attempt to calm her down. It took a few minutes before his wife felt tears float up in her eyes. A loud accidental sob revealed her presence. Two pairs of eyes immediately turned towards her, both staring at her in shock. Apparently, they both hadn't realized she was here.

"Who are you.. And why are you in my house.. Cuddling my husband.." his wife stuttered her voice almost breaking, clenching her fists. 

Within a second, Ignis let go of his affair and hurried over to his wife. To reassure her, he wanted to hold her hands but she didn't let him - not after what she just witnessed.

"(Y/N).. It's.. It's not-.." he stuttered, trying to find words that weren't lies. 

"It's not what?" she repeated his words, gently pushing him back as he tried to embrace her, "Who is that woman..?"

Both their hearts were racing, both of them knew their 10 year old relationship was about to crumble entirely, both of them were scared; one because he betrayed the love of his life, one because she feared to hear him admit to cheating.

"That's.. Stella" he introduced his wife to the petite blonde on their couch.

"Stella what? Stella I-like-to-fuck-married-men?" she mocked her while her voice shook violently, "The Stella you had sex with?"

"I.. Yes.. I apologize" he immediately apologized, lowering his head and avoiding her eyes. 

Her world shattered when he admitted it right into her face. 10 full years of love thrown into trash. Two children forgotten for his own greed; a family pushed into the dirt for nights of fun. All she could do was shake her head in disbelief. Looking at him started to infuriate her.. But seeing his affairs innocent, young face made her blow up.

"Who do you think you are, you dumb slut!?!" she yelled at the delicate, teary-eyed blonde, stomping past Ignis to confront her.

"I'm sorry.." she whined, tightly holding on to the positive pregnancy tests.

Without warning, his S/O forced the tests out of the females hands to take a close look at them. They could be hijacked, lies.. Oh, how she wished those were fake. It'd make this situation a tiny bit easier. But she couldn't find any signs that they weren't showing the truth. That woman was indeed pregnant with her husbands child.

"What were you thinking.." his wife whispered, a single tear leaking at the realization that their family would soon be torn apart for good.

Her husband slowly walked up behind her, trying hard to hold in his own emotions. He tried to take one of her hands in his, wanted to see if she'd let him .. But she wasn't having it. She slapped his hand away.

"You got a random skank knocked up!?" she shouted in his face through tears that were involuntarily running down her face.

"She's no such thi-" he wanted to defend her, feeling bad that she had to witness this, but his wife cut him off. 

"Don't you dare defend her right now" she warned him, glancing down at the intruder afterward, "Did you know he was married?"

"He told me.. Right away" she admitted, gulping hard.

Again, his wife shook her head in disbelief: "You knew he was married and could've assumed that he has a family.. Yet you chose to sleep with him. I hope you know that you're destroying our family. - Even worse.. You're starting your own family with him."

Both of them stayed quiet after that. All of them stared at the floor unable to look into anyone's eyes. 

"Leave our house at once" his wife threatened the pregnant affair, "You had sex with my husband, probably multiple times, you're expecting his kid and.. Knowing what a gentlemen he can be.. He'll be there for it. But I won't be. I don't ever want to see your face again."

Sobbing, the blonde got up, hiding her face to hide her tears, and stormed towards the door. Ignis hurried after her. 

"Oh, do you wanna take her home? I'm sure you know where she lives.. You've been there one too many times.." his S/O snapped while watching them, trying her best to come off as strong by using sarcasm.

Their living room was connected to their entrance through a hall, therefore she could easily watch what exactly they were doing. Much to her dismay, he ignored what she said, didn't reply. Perhaps he just didn't hear her. But when he picked up one of his coats, her heart beat increased tremendously.

"Ignis, I swear to the astrals, if you're going leaving right now.." his S/O calmly threatened him, too, her entire body shaking from unreleased tension and fear that he would actually chose to be with his affair over his wife.

This time, he glanced over his shoulders to see the one he loves so much stand in front of their couch. Her face was all crunched up, fighting tears. Not once did he consider taking his affair home but seeing his wife so shaken up made his heart bleed and regret everything - he knew if he'd leave right now, she'd break down.. And he didn't want that. He never meant to hurt her, he just wanted some refreshing fun.

While Ignis sent his affair off, telling her they'd stay in touch regarding the kid but otherwise breaking it off entirely, his wife was overthinking. She felt dirty and used. Only 15 minutes ago they had been busy making love, now she was wondering if there was any love for her left. His scent was all over her body, several substances mixed together - a thorough shower could wash him off, though. And that's exactly what she wanted. Knowing that he was gone until late at night just yesterday, further disgusted her. Judging by how bright his hickeys were, that was the night he received them. That was the most recent time he slept with another woman, it was the last time he cheated on her - yesterday. Knowing that he was having sex with her just a few minutes ago, upset her. Her emotions were all over the place, she had yet to sort them through. But she certainly felt uncomfortable in her own skin right then. All her own issues aside, she knew they had two wonderful children that would be pulled into this. If they'd break up, their children would suffer from it. If they'd stay together, their children would suffer from it. No matter what, this was going to affect their children, too. Especially the birth of their half-sibling.

"How am I supposed to explain that to them..? Daddy stopped loving your mother for a few months, that's the outcome..?" she thought to herself, sitting back down on the couch to put her head in her hands, hiding her face as tears dropped onto the floor.

Finally, Ignis closed the door and slowly walked back over to her. It had been quite a while since he saw his wife cry in front of him.. But now, more than ever, he felt utterly terrible about it.

"For how long has this been going?" she whispered, knowing he was nearby.

"3 months.. We met at the bar," he explained, breaking her heart more and more, "It was the day we fought.."

"Fought about the laundry?" she recalled, scoffing at how ridiculous it was, "Did you cheat on me because I accidentally mixed your white shirt with our children's colored ones?!"

"I.. Never intended to go that far. We both ended up intoxicated by alcohol and it..-" he started explaining, sitting down beside his wife that cut him off once again.

"Just happened.." she completed his sentence, "And then you chose to continue on.."

"I.. Assure you this was just a physical connection - I don't have any kind of feelings for her" he continued to say, not exactly making this any better, "I only love you."

"Good for you!" she snapped at him, lifting her head to look at him, "You neglected me for 3 whole months, making me feel like you were getting tired of me, that I wasn't desirable anymore - I never thought you would be cheating on me, I tried to believe you when you said you were stressed… but you just lied to my face so you could have sex with some other girl."

"I couldn't make myself sleep with you and her.." he whispered.

"You chose her! Ignis, you chose a random female over your wife!" she scolded him, "Is she more exciting than me? Prettier? Thinner? Less annoying? What makes her so special? Her age? Is it because she's younger?" 

Sighing, he tried to collect his thoughts, his wife at least deserved honesty right now: "I must admit, her appearance was very appealing to me and it was flattening that such a young woman thought that I was attractive. And on top of that.. She ended up being go-"

"Good in bed.." she completed his sentence once again, shaking her head in disbelief.

Ignis just nodded, ashamed of his actions.His S/O immediately began to wonder if she was horrible in bed and quietly compared her body to his affair’s.

"You.. Do realize that this is means our rela-" his wife began to conclude.

"Please, I'm begging you, don't break up with me" Ignis rapidly took her hands in his, his eyes staring right into hers, "Earlier, when we were kissing.. I.. I realized that my reasons were ridiculous. All I ever wanted is right here with me. It's you. You gave me two beautiful children, you are a wonderful mother, you're an amazing wife. My actions were undoubtedly stupid. I'm aware you don't deserve this -"

"And yet you continued to screw with another woman - she's pregnant now, congrats" his wife interrupted him, avoiding his eyes, "I really don't know Ignis.. But this isn't just about me. Unlike you, I can't make selfish decisions because we have two children involved in this."

"Does that mean you're going to stay with me?" he asked, squeezing her hand softly, their wedding rings touching in result.

Groaning, she shook her head again, tears streaming down her face again: "I don't know! - Just why wasn't I good enough? Why wasn't it enough to stop you that I was waiting for you? That I bathed your children and brought them to bed, did some house chores after working all day - and waited for you until you came home at 3am. Why couldn't you stop after that one time? Why did it become a casual thing to betray your wife? Is it my body? Am I too ugly? Do my stretch marks bother you? Are my boobs to saggy? Too many wrinkles or too much fat? Why did you constantly deny me? Why couldn't I seduce you? Am I too boring? And why couldn't you think of our children?"

"No! You're gorgeous. I assure you my mistakes are not your fault. You did nothing wrong. It was all me and I shall do everything I possibly can to regain your trust" Ignis proclaimed, panicking because he knew how fragile his wife could be, "Please give me that chance."

"I--.. How am I supposed to believe this..? You have another woman's hickeys all over your body. I don't even want to imagine all the things you two did.. - It's not fair. You vowed faithfulness to me 6 years ago.." she rambled on her words, "And.. You lied."

"I will make up for it" he exclaimed confidently. 

"I don't.. Know" she repeated, "We also wanted a third child.. But.. Now.. I -"

"Mommy? Daddy?" their daughter suddenly interrupted, rubbing her eyes, "I can't sleep."

Both heads turned to their daughter. Ignis' wife immediately brusher her tears off - the show must go on.

"Sweety.. Did you have a nightmare?" she wondered, getting up and embracing her little daughter. 

"Yes, I heard lots of shouting" she pouted, "You two were fighting. It was scary."

Feeling her heart crack all over again, she put on a fake smile for her little one. 

"Wow, that certainly sounds terrible.." she spoke as she caressed her cheek, "Let's drink some milk before we go back to bed, okay? It’ll help you calm down."

Nodding, their 4 year old smiled: "Daddy, will you join us?"

"Of course" he lifted the corners of his mouth into a sad smile before getting up and walking over to them.

Taking a hand of each of her parents, the little kid started leading them to the kitchen. Knowing they woke their daughter made both of them feel even worse. It was common sense to pretend it never happened for the sake of her and their son.

"Mommy, daddy, you didn't fight, did you?" the little brown haired asked, waiting for her mother to fill her a cup of milk.

"Out of all the times.." his S/O thought to herself, trying hard to keep up her smile.

"No, dear, that was all in your head" Ignis assured her, running a hand through his daughter's hair.

"But why does mommy seem so shaken up?" their daughter was quick to catch up.

After taking out three cups from their kitchen cabinet, his S/O started pouring milk into their cups. 

"I'm having a headache, sweety. Thank you for worrying" she spoke to her daughter, lying to her like she would so many times in the future.

"Ooh~. Maybe daddy can cook you some soup? I heard that helps" their daughter suggested, carefully taking her cup and drinking from it.

"Yeah.. Maybe" her mother replied, smiling sadly. 

Her real ache was a broken heart. The heart of a woman that endlessly loved her husband and in return got betrayed was shattered. Lies had shaped their relationship for three months, three months that were going to have life changing consequences. 

For the sake of their children, Ignis' wife stayed with him. He had a lot to fix and make up for, she wanted to give him a chance. But there was one thing he could never fix.. And that was his illegitimate child. 

He had to explain to his children that they were going to have a half-sister. For the sake of maintaining a healthy family, Ignis and his wife pretended they adopted the little girl. Unfortunately, Stella had to be introduced, too - she wanted to see her baby. As much as Ignis' wife was against it, there was nothing she could do. They had shared custody over their daughter. 

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before Stella was loved by their kids. Seeing their children play so happily with the woman that destroyed her life, tore her heart even further apart. Eventually, they even started asking for her, treated her like some best friend. 

Ignis' S/O started feeling less and less important to them. Perhaps it was her growing depression causing it, but she firmly believed she didn't matter anymore. Her children had a second mother, a half-sister and an ever so loving father. She didn't believe Ignis needed her either - he could just get with Stella. 

No matter how much she attempted to fix her marriage, find the energy to trust him again, she couldn't - not when the one causing all this damage was with them almost everyday. However, she still tried to be a good wife and she still had feelings for him. Ignis and her went out on dates, set up some harmless rules for each other, slept together, had an active love life.. But it wasn't the same. Being with him felt like a chore instead of something she could enjoy. 

Even when she found out about her third pregnancy, she couldn't be as happy about it as she imagined to be.

All just because her husband couldn't stop himself from lusting after another woman - a woman that was now part of her everyday life; a constant reminder of how she wasn't good enough. Caring for a child that wasn't her own was far from easy, too. Late at night, she often broke down and cried. The king's advisor was always with her, tried to comfort her as much as he could. 

But ever since that day she found out she had been betrayed, her life had lost it's colors.

Masterlist ;  1st Part ; 2nd Part  // Noctis cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Gladio cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Prompto cheating 1 ; 2 ; 3 // Ravus cheating

[zarcake-writes]

The Shadow Wolf

Part 3! Hope you guys like this part. There will only be one more part of this, but I’m planning another werewolf story that links up with this one. Hope you enjoy reading this.

Warnings: There is mention of animal death and blood

When the full moon came, your leg and hurt forearm didn’t let you enjoy yourself. Instead of running through the forest, you spent the three nights outside Gabe’s cabin watching the moon or him. He would appear at times then he would be swallowed up by the darkness. You enjoyed watching this. The way he moved and the way the smoke seemed to cling to his form. Shadow and smoke was his wolf form. It was beautiful.

Those three nights he lingered near you and checked on you often, he brought you things each night. He brought you a stick the first night. You chewed up until it broke, you pouted and howled in pain at your broken toy. He howled with you.

The second night he brought you a rope toy, you would have taken offense to this in your human form, but in this form, you loved it. You both chewed on the toy together and began playing with each other. He smacked you with his paw and you went to bite his paw. You even tried to chase him but you didn’t get far. He sat beside you and you chewed on his tail, until he smacked you in the face with it.

The last night of the full moon he brought you a dear he had killed. He let you eat first then he ate while you were chewing on a bone. After he ate he came over and began licking your face. You let out what sounded like a hum as the large male cleaned you. Then you cleaned him, and it sounded like he was purring. He both fell asleep in his front yard curled up together.

The next day you woke up and wondered why did you smell Gabe? Were you in his bed? No. Did you have one of his blankets? No. You opened your eyes and found yourself starring into his muscular chest, you noticed the scars and his chest hair. You glanced up and saw his dark red eyes gazing down at you. You swallowed and just stared up at him.

“Good morning.” He said as if you both weren’t naked as the day you were born.

“Morning. Could you, let me go?”

“Yes. But you’ll see me naked.” He grinned, you only blushed. You had the urge to look down. You wanted to see his whole body, you wanted to see his scars and touch his body.

“I’ll close my eyes.” You whispered.

“Alright. Stay here, I have my jacket on the porch. You can cover up with it.” He said as he let you go. You closed your eyes and covered yourself. Yes, being a werewolf meant you were used to waking up in the nude. But you were used to waking up naked with your sisters and mother, not around a strange man.

You heard him get up and walk away, then you felt a jacket being placed over your shoulders. You quickly pulled it on and stood up, you zipped up his jacket. It was huge on you, it covered your entire body like it was dress. You glanced at Gabe and saw he was wearing a pair of sweatpants that left little to the imagination.

“There we go. Now, come inside.” He said taking your hand and helping you inside. You were still limping but he helped you in.

Gabriel helping you and being there for you was not a surprising thing. Werewolves are social creatures, even those who disliked other wolves are social. It’s in their nature. So, it’s normal for two lone werewolves who meet to bond. It’s normally out if necessity, like you and Gabe. He saved you and is helping you get better.

But you could feel something. Those last three nights you both spent together, him playing with you and bringing you food to eat, meant something. You knew the signs when a werewolf was interested in someone. You remember your sisters being wooed and the numerous males who fought for their attention, you remember Jesse laughing at the males and you scoffing at them when they came to you. You watched Gabe as he sat you down on the couch, did he feel something too?

“Are you feeling well?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You got some blood on your face still, you should go shower and change. You’ll need to recover your energy from the last few nights.” Gabe said.

“Alright.” You murmured standing up. Gabe watched you limp to the bathroom, his jacket still wrapped around you.

When you left he took a deep breath, your smell was intoxicating. These last three nights he began the process of courting you. If his gifts were not accepted, then he would have stopped and continued caring for you as a good host. But you accepted his gifts, you liked him. He smirked and shook his head. He hasn’t felt like this for… well for centuries.

Your scent was driving him crazy. You were so beautiful. In human form and in wolf form. Your wolf form was scary and amazing. Your coat was a dark grey with white highlights along your back and snout, when he first saw the moonlight reflecting off your coat it looked like stars in fur. Your eyes went from their usual color to a light grey. You were beautiful.

He started the courting process. It would take several months for it to be completed, several months of learning about each other. He had to make a good impression. He knew how to start.

He quickly began making food, he had to keep his potential mate well fed. When he was done making the sandwiches he went to find you. You were done in the bathroom, so he headed to your room. He knocked several times but you didn’t answer. He opened the door up and saw you asleep in your bed, you were in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. He smiled when he saw his jacket was in your arms.

Gabe smiled and left you alone in your room.

 You had been with Gabe for two months now. During these last two month’s he learned about your pack and family. You told him you were the youngest and your sisters called you runt until you turned eighteen. A few of your sisters left and made packs of their own, while some of the others wanted to stay home. You had a cousin named Jesse McCree who was your best friend growing up. He protected you and you both got in trouble. He was the reason you left, you wanted to make your own life.

You learned about why Gabe was how he was and you learned about the truth of the shadow wolf legend. You didn’t ask, but he offered you that information willingly. The story made you sad. Long ago, he had a mate. He didn’t remember her face or her name. But she was killed by hunters, as was he. But a witch found them and brought them both back. Only, his mate came back worse off as him. And she lost control and she killed most of her own pack. Gabe was forced to kill else she would have killed the youngest members of the pack. After that, he was so angry and hurt he wandered around for years until he settled here.

“I’m sorry that happened to you both.” You told him taking his hand. You were both sitting in front of his fireplace, the fire was dying slowly.

“It’s alright. I don’t remember much of it. I remember the blood of her family and the feel of her body in my arms. The witch helped make sure she didn’t come back.”

“It’s still a horrible thing to go through. To lose your mate, twice.” You squeezed his hand and he gripped your hand tightly.

In the dying light of the fire his eyes were bright and the rest of his body was darkened. You wondered if he could disappear into the shadows in his human form or if that was just something his wolf form did. You were tempted to ask, but you realized his face was a lot closer to yours now. You knew he started the courting process, you accepted his advances. But he’s refrained from touching or kissing you romantically.

You leaned into him and you both kissed. It was soft and hesitant, as if you both were afraid each other would disappear. You looked up at him and smiled when he pulled away. He smiled back and rested his forehead against yours. There were customs among packs when it came to be courting a potential mate, he knew you would expect these customs. So, he didn’t push your physical boundaries. Instead he walked you to your room and told you goodnight.

 A month later and your leg was finally fully healed and you were physically able to move on, yet you didn’t leave. You and he kept putting it off and coming up with excuses as to why you should stay another day or another week. It was always something small, he would mention you should see a bird nest in the forest, or there’s a small creek you would like. You both didn’t acknowledge the fact you stayed was so he could finish the courting process.

But you were eventually forced to stay with him for several months when winter arrived. It was cold and dark around his cabin. The snow prevented him from driving safely into town and he refused to let you leave in this weather. So, you stayed. Not that either of you minded, it gave you both longer to get to know each other. You both settled into a strange form of domesticity.

He cooked and you cleaned. He chopped wood and you started the fire. He would go hunting, in wolf or human form, and you helped him skin the animals and begin saving the meat. He sewed and created a jacket for you while you… well you modeled it and wore it around for him.

Nights of the full moon you both would run through the snow. If there was a storm you both sat on his front porch huddled together or you would help any small woodland animals who were lost. He was intrigued when you picked up a young fox and wrapped yourself around it. He had gotten lost in the storm and you knew he would freeze. Gabe then wrapped himself around you. The fox lived and the next morning it bounded off happily.

Each night when there wasn’t a full moon, you both would sit in front of his fire place and talk or go to bed early. The nights were getting colder and you found yourself wishing you could sleep with him. But you cuddled up beneath your blankets and managed to sleep. Until one night the cold was too much. Ice was on your window and you were sure your lips were turning blue.

You got out of bed and wrapped yourself in the jacket he made you and went to his room. You stood outside his door shivering. Maybe it was too soon for this. No, it was the perfect time. Besides you were just cold, it’s not like you both were going to have sex. Pack custom said you must wait a year and have sex on a full moon. But you weren’t with your pack. In fact, it was just you and him.

You took a deep breath and knocked on his door.