#this got so away from me why is it 4000 words long

[theashemarie]

85 (the jacket one) for the pearlina prompt requests! :3

Hi Ben!

#85. “Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.”

I’m breaking the law and writing and posting this live at work so you’ll have to just accept my link and screenshot for now. :3c

[historicity-was-already-taken]

What I'm actually furious about, isn't just the anti-Semitism I've dealt with here.

What I'm furious at is the Israeli government and military. I am furious that they have the nerve to perpetrate war crimes while appropriating the memory of the 6 million. It makes me sick. It feels me with rage. It fills me with feelings of betrayal (those are complex and require deconstruction, discussed briefly below). How dare they massacre children, civilians, and fucking hospital patients; and how dare they do so while using the 6 million as a rhetorical shield?

The edgelord who left me a snide remark comparing the situation in Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto wasn't the first person to make that comparison to me. It was actually the Palestinian woman who translated two major sources from Hebrew into English for me.

She was translating a biography of Tossia Altman when her three nephews and sister-in-law were murdered during the IDF action in Gaza. I asked her if she wanted to stop working on the project (with no impact on her fee for the project, of course; that's where about $4000 of the money y'all helped me raise went, fyi). The brand of Zionism practiced by Tossia and her comrades is very very different from the version embodied in Netanyahu, and it was those schools of Zionism which mostly died in the Holocaust (I said), but I would completely understand if the material was too triggering for her.

She said "I’m not sure about this triggering me, I think holocaust survivors and Gazans are on the same boat to tell you the truth. It could be an opportunity for me to actually fathom the full picture, in a way." And I haven't stopped thinking about it since.

I'm not going to post the rest of our conversation here, for what I hope are obvious reasons. And for concerned parties, this woman has been living away from Gaza for a very long time.

But this is why I'm so angry and emotional.

And I'm over here having these, frankly, very painful, personal feelings (if my posts over the last 4 months haven't made it clear, I spent my teen years in an extremely manipulative right wing Israel "education" program, and was raised surrounded by first and secondhand Holocaust trauma which inevitably impacted how my elders educated me about The Conflict none of which I was fully able to deconstruct until I became a Holocaust Historian in grad school). Especially with my knowledge of how SHITTILY Holocaust survivors were treated when they got to Palestine in the mid-1940s; of how fucking disgracefully Yad Vashem treated Rachel Auerbach and Yitzhak Zuckerman. Of the way the Jewish fighters actually died in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. I became a Holocaust historian because I am the great/granddaughter of survivors and I do this work because it's a fucking calling, not something that brings me joy. And the goddamn Israeli government, the government of a nation which likes to say it exists for all Jews (when it barely even represents the Jews who live there but that's a different conversation); the way that government manipulates and misuses that history to excuse their actions in Gaza make me fucking sick. And, as demonstrated by some of you actual fucking pieces of shit, puts Diasporic Jews in danger. (side thought: Does Netanyahu WANT to put Diasporic Jews in danger?? He knows how this fucking shit works, and I wouldn't be surprised if he WANTED Jews to feel deeply unsafe and respond to that by fleeing to Israel).

And WHILE I'm experiencing all of this and trying to keep it all together while writing the what may be the most important thing I've ever written in my career, you fucking [word I don't use out loud or in writing] come in here and to throw your anti-Semitic bullshit at me when I ask you to please not spew it at me via my (year old) fucking Holocaust Remembrance Day posts, and when I ask you to be fucking mindful of it in your political speech.

So let me make it fucking clear, as far as I am concerned there are 4 separate conversations at play rn.

1) October 7 was horrific, genocidal, and traumatizing for Jews on a global basis.

2) Israel is committing heinous war crimes in Gaza right now which, if its own military's statements are anything to go by, are actively genocidal.

3) You shouldn’t harass random Jewish people because you’re disgusted with Israeli governmental and military decisions and actions.

4) The Israeli government’s appropriation of Holocaust memory within its larger state building project doesn’t give you [collective: non-Jews] the right to abuse Jews for discussing and generally having feelings about the Holocaust.

And FRANKLY I think all those conversations are accurate and valid. I also don't think I'm obligated to tear my heart open give you all my intimate feelings because a bunch of pieces of shit on this site can't grasp points 3 and 4.

So fuck that right wing program I belonged to as a teen, fuck you fucking left wing anti-Semites who can's grasp that you're touting the ideologies of people who would have wanted you dead, and fuck the Israeli government for committing war crimes. fuck them for their ongoing abuse of palestinian civil and human rights, and fuck them for invoking the memory of the 6million while doing it.

I've fucking had it with that fucking State, I've had it with you goddamn Jew-haters, and I've had it with the Jewish ppl who might want to destroy my career upon seeing this post.

I am mad as HELL.

I'm not even saying my mental health break is over. I've just had a moment of clarity, my period is over, and I'm pissed as hell. i'm tired of policing myself to make the gentiles who hate me comfortable; and I'm tired of policing myself to make my coreligionists who'd destroy me for having these thoughts comfortable. and there are 122,000 if you, so i don't care if you're so fucking fragile that this post makes you hit the unfollow button.

tl;dr:

[lorsdelapluie]

The doctor's diary.

Pairing: sylus x female reader

Genre: Dark shit going on. Including smut. Please read the content warning.

Word count: 4000+ words.

Content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content (but its chill for now), spoiler warning, mention of human experimentation, cult activities, my own twisted thoughts and theories are literally making this way darker than LADS already is. An oc of mine will appear more often in the next chapters, hate him guys, he is not a good guy. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes.

Note: This chapter ended up longer than I expected somehow. And it is the first one of a three chapter fanfiction. I tend to write nasty stuff, sex wise but also everything else wise so please be prepared for anything literally. The character Castiel that you will meet in this chapter is my own oc that I made up specially for the LADS universe. I hope you will enjoy to hate him.

Chapter 1:

“You want me to go in the N109 zone ? I thought we weren’t allowed to go th-” 

“We are aware you have been going back and forth between Linkon city and the N109 Zone.” 

You pinched your lips at the words coming from Jenna’s mouth, your hand resting on your hunter’s watch. The times you forgot to turn off your watch comes back to light one by one in your mind. Brushing it off everytime you thought that the HQ wouldn't have the time to check on your status. Her arms were still crossed over her chest as she looked at you straight in the face with her dark gray eyes. You felt like a kid underneath this disappointed glare. You opened your lips to say something, to defend yourself but she raised her hand to stop you from doing so. 

“However, you have mainly been doing this outside your working hours. So it is your private life, and you may keep it a secret if you wish. But since you have been going there multiple times, we figured you might be aware of what is going on there better than we do.” She sighed. You guessed that she wasn't the one behind this idea. Maybe some higher ups that you never had the opportunity to meet.

“So this is why we thought you might be the best suited agent for this mission.”

“Oh uhm… Thank you for entrusting me.” 

“Despite this little disagreement, I am aware that you are one of our best agents. However if you think you might need help, you can still ask Xavier to accompany you. Although he has been quite busy lately.”

“No no no ! Do not bother Xavier for this. I am more than capable of handling missions on my own. As for the mission… Can I ask you what is it that I am meant to do ?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the Lions’ den without information.” She said as she slid her hand on her desk, taking a handful of documents stored inside a pocket and handing them to you. “We need you to participate in an auction for charity.”

“For charity…” you mumbled. You never thought you would see the day of a charity auction being held in the a zone so… uncharitable. You start looking through the papers in your hand, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are as surprised as you look. As nice as the thoughts around this event are, we are particularly interested in one of the prizes that we wish you would purchase for us.”

Your eyes land on the auction picture of a diary, its cover is made of leather and the pages look old, teared up for some of them. “A diary ?”

“This diary seemingly belonged to one of the most wanted people of our organization. A doctor who previously worked here, in Linkon city, and got too deep in his interest for protocores and their links with people’s evol.” 

“He experimented on humans…” you mumbled as you read the notes next to the picture that the intel team had written for you. "On children..."

“He indeed did. And we would like to prevent this diary from falling into the wrong hands. This is where your part comes in. Buying this diary away from that zone.”

You nodded as you guessed the objective of your mission long before she started explaining the reason why they would go fetch that book in the first place. Plus, that diary might bring you answers you are seeking about yourself. And as you remember your partner's jewel like gaze, about Sylus too. You then raised yours towards Jenna, closing the file between your hands and straightening your back. 

“If you will allow me. I’m going to do the best I can to fulfill this mission.” 

“I know you will. The auction is in three days. I hope it gives you enough time to gather any belongings and travel to a safe place in the N109 zone… If such a place exists.” 

“Do not worry about me. I will be safe.”

You smile as Jenna raises her hand slowly with a peaceful expression as she dismisses you from her office. You exit the room, slowly closing the door behind you before walking to your desk, gathering your laptop and phone on the furniture. You then put the file inside your bag as you were already leaving the building. You would take the time to analyze everything once you were safely in the N109 Zone.

Phone in hand you immediately texted Xavier to let him know that you were leaving for a mission in the outskirts of your beloved city. As your thumbs were patting the screen of your phone, it suddenly started to vibrate. Soon enough the icon of Sylus appeared on your phone, a silly picture of him you took when he dozed off while watching a musical a few weeks prior. You frowned at the VERY convenient timing that he always had and picked up, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Yes ?”

“The twins are going to pick you up at 5 this afternoon. Will you have enough time to be prepared before then?” 

“Don’t tell me you hacked Jenna’s computer again. How many times do I have to tell you to not do that?” You frowned, faking or maybe wanting to be angry about that breach of your private life once again.

“There is no need to get angry at me. Be angry at the twins all you want though. They are the ones who insisted on checking up on you while I was away.” 

“How do they even know how to hack-” you stopped in your tracks as you heard your voice the sound of a bike motor in the background of the call. “Are you calling me while driving ?”

“Now this is a reason you can get mad at me for.” he chuckles as you let out a frustrated sound. “Do not worry, sweetie, I have my helmet on. Just checking on you through earbuds.” 

“Unsafe still. Your attention should be fully on the road.” you finally started walking towards the road that leads to your apartment, going through the usual route that takes you near along a river. “I thought you said you would be the one picking me up after Luke nearly got us in a car crash last time.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. But I do have some work meetings that need to be attended to." After a moment of quiet, he continued. “I trust Kieran will be the one driving you three back at home. I will be back before dinner.” 

“Fine. Be careful on your way to your meet up… I will see you later.” you could hear a chuckle, and the picture of Sylus’ grin appeared in your mind. Before he could answer, you hung up. 

You sighed as you crossed the street, pushing the door of your building entrance after entering the password on the door’s pad. Slowly you slid the phone inside your bag, totally forgetting about warning your colleague, and your friends, of the mission that will probably won’t let you have time for chit chat. Once you are inside your place, you quickly pull out a bag from the closet in the entrance, walking towards your bedroom to pack your essentials for the next few days. 

An hour flew by without you realizing it before your phone rang. Luke. As you picked up you hear his cheerful voice coming from outside your building, you walked towards your opened window staring down. 

“Miss ! Your carriage is waiting for you !” the masked man yells waving at you from below, catching glances from other people passing by. 

“Get inside the car ! Can’t you see people are staring at you Luke ?” you frowned shooing him away with your hand. 

“Heeeh. I’m hurt ! Are you embarrassed by me perhaps ?” You wondered if Sylus teasing was coming from spending too much time with them or the other way round. 

You frowned not wanting to let your mind wander at that thought, hanging up and closing the window before picking your bag on your bed and leaving your apartment. Once downstairs you were greeted with no one but the black car with tinted windows that was just in front of the house, without giving it much thoughts you walked to the back of the car and climbed inside. 

After exchanging proper greetings with the twins, and a short trip from Linkon city to the twins’ boss base. 

It was night time now and you were settled down in one of Sylus couch in his apartments. You were going through the file once more, eyeing the clock in front of you from time to time. The meal was soon to be put down in the living room and you were definitely imagining eating alone at this rate. You sighed as you let your head roll on one of the sides of the couch, closing your eyes as you let yourself drift to the sound of the gramophone playing the music you put on earlier. 

“Are you asleep ?” a whisper came above the sound of the music as a finger brushed against your cheek. 

Your eyes opened and you looked up to the figure towering over you. Sylus gazed at you as he was leaning with one hand on the couch watching you slowly wake up from your nap. You slowly straight up, your files sliding from your chest and before you could react, Sylus caught it and put it down on the table next to you.

“Mmm no.” 

“Sure you weren’t.” he smiled as he sat on the carpet next to the couch. “Don’t move.” 

“But the dinner…” you mumbled still drowsy. 

“Dinner is cold by now. I was late and you fell asleep. We are in no hurry anymore.” he says as he takes off his jacket, putting it down on the chair behind him, soon followed by his gloves. You sighed knowing that the man next you wouldn't budge. 

“How did your meeting go ?” you asked as you traced every of his movements with your gaze. 

“Productive. But a waste of time at the same time. We wasted 2 hours waiting for someone who never came. I honestly thought I was going to come back really early.” 

“Would have been better…” you muttered.

Sylus' head turned to look at you with that same grin of his when he catches you being off guard. “Missing me I see.” 

“Whatever.” 

“I missed you too, sweetie.” he muttered as his face was now a few inches away from your face. And as always Sylus was the one to close that distance, his teeth started nibbling gently on your lower lip as he kissed you. His right hand comes to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I missed you a lot."

There was always this conflict inside of you when you felt the lips of Sylus on yours. A shyness that you wished you didn’t have, pushing you to turn your face away. However the drumming of your heart everytime his lips were on yours made you feel safe. Safe and cared for. The man suddenly started pushing his tongue against your lips, deepening the kiss drawing a sound from you in a sigh. 

“Knowing that you were waiting for me here. Probably lying down on that bed or on that couch…” he muttered as he kissed your lips once again then your cheek and the back of your ear. “I wished I could have just left to join you here quicker.”

“You are… so dirty Sylus.” you whispered as you felt his hand slide on your shirt to start unbuttoning it. When Sylus admitted his excitement for you it always made you shiver. Not that it was rare for him to be so blunt. But being wanted and knowing that he was thinking of you that way, in places where he shouldn’t. God, he was the devil in person and he loved playing with his favorite person. 

“If you want to blame me for the tension rising in this room. Feel free to do so…” he said, lips leaving a trailing of kisses from your neck towards your chest. “I would enjoy that.” 

Soon his lips were not the only thing on your skin, his tongue traveled against you with wet kisses. Teeth sometimes nibble on you, trying to mark you as his. However he knew better than to do that or he would have been met with a warning look. Instead his hand slides away the remaining of your top clothes, revealing your skin to his red eyes ravishing each corner of your body, everytime. 

“Your skin is covered in goosebumps. Are you getting worked up sweetie ?” he says smiling, his lips resting against your chest. A thumb sliding against one of your nipples. “I bet that if I slide my hand in your pants, I might find it dripping with excitement.” 

“You are too sure of yourself.” you said trying to keep your voice steady as his lips brushed against your other nipple. 

A low chuckle vibrates through his body at your answer. “Always so feisty, kitten.” he murmured, pinching with two of his fingers the nipple he had in his hand. 

“Then… Shall we take a look ?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, you closed your legs, preventing his hand from sliding under your pants and between your thighs. His hand stopped mid-way, resting against your lower body. He slowly quirked up his face, arching a brow with a smile. 

“Getting shy ?” he asks, fingers fondling with the zipper of your pants. He soon pulled it down. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy you playing shy. I’d rather have my feisty kitten biting and fighting me than hiding away.” 

Asshole you thought. 

“Should I take out the ropes like last time ? Pull your legs apart ? I thought you learnt how to behave.” he said with a smile. “Or did you enjoy this so much that you want to try again ?” 

Losing control from time to time was nice. But not tonight, you needed the contrary. You need to feel in control of your body. The next few days were gonna be stressful. One of your hands dared to come rest on his cheek as your legs opened against his hand. 

“Good girl..” he said, his lips coming to nuzzle against your hand. And as usual when a kiss comes first teeth soon follow. His fingers able to slide under your pants and underwear come to slide in between your folds feeling the wetness of yourself under his burning gaze. 

“Just as I thought.” he smiles as one of his fingers pushes inside you and you answer with a moan. His lips nibbling on the flesh of your palm, eyelashes brushing against your fingers as he starts going back and forth with his fingers inside of you. 

Your head resting against the pillow of the couch, eyes closing as another moan came from between your lips as he pushed another finger inside of you. The fingers of your hand slowly extended to grasp onto strands of the man’s hair, while the other came gripping on the back of the couch. 

“That’s it. Let yourself go, kitten.” A growl soon followed when you tug at his hair when his thumb rested against your clit making small circles as he never stopped pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You arched your back, the stimulation of his fingers rubbing against that one G spot inside of you and his thumb massaging your clit made you see stars. You tug on his hair once again in another sound, coming under his watchful gaze. 

“Sylus…” 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always here.” he answered, coming to put a kiss on your forehead. 

Once he pulls his fingers out of you, he slides a hand under you to carry you against him. You look up at him, arms sliding around his neck to secure yourself. 

“And you ?” 

“Oh ? Are you asking for more, sweetie ?”” he chuckles as you frown at him. His lips slowly come against your own to kiss you once more. “This is what I wanted. Nothing more for tonight. But I can not promise you anything just like this for tomorrow.” A devilish smile spreads on his lips. 

“Did you have a shower already ?” 

“I did… Earlier.” you answered as you rested your head against his shoulder. “What about food ?” 

“You are hungry aren’t you.” He said as he settled you down on the bed. “Tell you what. I will come bring you some food and you can enjoy some while I take a shower. Sounds good ?” 

“Sounds good. I will try to not eat everything.” You smile. 

And just like that three days passed. Now you were standing in front of the door, arms crossed on your chest and Sylus blocking your way with his hands on his hips. 

“I will not change my mind Sylus. I need to attend this auction alone.”

“What if I’d like to be charitable tonight?”

You scoff. “Please. You just want to keep your eyes on me.”

“I want to make sure you are safe and sound.” 

“And I told you I can defend myself. If the HQ knows that I am attending an official mission with the boss of Onychinus, I could get in trouble. Because they will keep an eye on me ! Just like you do.” 

Sylus sighs. You could be so stubborn. He slowly raised his hand to pinch his nose’s bridge. “Take Mephisto with you at least. He could help you in any case of an emergency.” 

“That noisy little…” you were met by a glare that was telling you to not push your luck so you resigned. “Okay.”

“Good.” As soon as you agreed to his terms, he snapped his fingers and Mephisto almost appeared on your shoulder. Resting his claws against the fabric of your dress. “I will drive you there. And I will be there again to pick you up soon after Mephisto lets me know the auction has ended. Understood ?” 

“Yes mom.”

He chuckles before pushing the door open, letting you leave the safe base first to get to the car parked in front of the entrance. He soon followed and got inside the car to start driving across the dark streets of the N109 Zone. Mephisto was awfully quiet, head turning around at each corner, as if the bird was already on a mission analyzing what was around him. You stared mindlessly at the street lamps barely shining some cold light on the pavement beneath them as you fondle with your bag between your fingers. 

You were stressed. Stressed to not be able to bring back that diary. What if you came back in Linkon city with nothing to offer but the news that another potential monster had this fucking diary between their hands. How many children would have to suffer from experiments and be kept in the dark before they all stopped ? Without realizing it, you started clenching on your accessory. And the hand of Sylus left the gearbox to come rest on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Do not be anxious. People coming to those kinds of fake charity auctions hunt down people like you. Nice face, seemingly weak and rich.” he said. “Mephisto is a sign that you are under my watch but he can’t dissuade them from doing anything if they are crazy enough to try.” 

“So I need to appear confident…” 

“Exactly. I know you can do it. After all, you showed me your acting skills more than once.” he pressed his thumb against your thigh as he kept looking at the road in front of you. “I’m not here physically but Mephisto is my eyes. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know.” you sighed before taking another deep breath. It will be okay, you thought, Sylus is right. You had to have faith in yourself and in him. It will go by so quickly, you won’t even realize it. 

The car slows down and you are now parked in front of an immense building, maybe even taller than some of Sylus’s ones. You look up from your seat as Mephisto mimics you. “Where are we ?”

“The place of the auction. The HQ of the Eurydike cult. Weird bunch of fuckers.” 

You hummed before pushing the door open, before closing it you looked at your partner flashing him a smile. “I will be back.” He softly smiles back waving, asking you to be careful once more. And you closed the door, walking towards the entrance of the building, taking out the invitation out of your bag to show the bodyguards that you were allowed to enter the place. 

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were faced with a display of wealthiness and laughter coming from every corner of the giant hall. You were taken aback, thinking for a second that the only man you thought was this wealthy in the N109 Zone was Sylus. The hall was made of black marble with golden cracks, contrasted by high white walls that reflected the light of the candlesticks. Hanging banners here and there with an unknown insignia, and false plants hanging in green. You looked around, looking for a sign indicating the location of the meeting. But unfortunately the place was badly indicated, this auction was probably a place of regulars. However you spotted some people whispering about getting their place already to get closer to the stage, and you figured it would be the best idea to follow them around. Which you did. Everyone here was accompanied, and you were alone. Well accompanied but by a bird that started to get agitated. The sound of your heels against the marble under your steps was ringing in your mind. You stopped near a waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. You needed to relax, you needed to look like you belonged here. Alcohol might help you settle down. 

So you went to sit at the first row, crossing your legs as Mephisto left your shoulder to take place on the chandelier hanging above your head. You could see some of the objects being displayed on the stage in front of you. Vases, stuffed animals, jewelry and… Wait. Was that one of Raphayel’s painting ? You frowned while taking your phone out of your purse to take a picture. Before you could press the button, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

You flinched, turning around. “Miss. Sorry to bother you but you are not allowed to take pictures in this room.” A man with green eyes gazed upon you. He was tall, his hair and lashes almost hiding the gaze that you could feel burning on your face. His face did not seem upset, nor angry. Good… The last thing you needed was to attract angry people. 

You smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that painting would interest my husband before I start bidding on it.”  

“Oh ?” He looked up at the stage staring at the painting of the seashore painted with different shades of blue and orange, with the silhouette of a faceless woman dipping her feet in the water. “Hm. It is indeed a wonderful painting. From a very famous painter from Linkon City. Although it is one of his earliest works.” 

“Are you familiar with this painter ?” you asked, interested in the knowledge of the person in front of you. To faint uninterest you slowly raise your glass to your lips looking away from the man.

“Familiar would not be right. We are acquaintances.” He then looks down at you smiling as he circles around the chair to finally sit next to you. “Although we haven’t seen each other for many years.” 

“I see.” you nodded looking at that man dressed in white, your eyes landing on the cross shaped brooch on his tie. You swore you have seen this insignia somewhere. “And you are ?”

“Shh little miss. It’s starting soon. We will have all the leisure to chit chat after that auction is done.” 

The auction began, and you drank the rest of your drink before waving to a waiter to come and get rid of you. Under your seat as under that of all the other participants was a small booklet with the passage numbers of each work or object. The one you were looking for was in last place. A sigh escaped from your lips as the first sums of money were thrown out of control. 

Beside you, still stood this same man, his left leg crossed above the right and his hands clasped on his knees, looking at the scene with a satisfied smile. With the light down, you took the time to linger on her face. He had it very hard, like a man who had to face situations that those of Linkon city did not have to face. But this sweet smile on his lips came in contrast with the portrait that could be made of him. You wondered if Sylus knew the man. You slowly raised your head to look towards Mephisto who was looking straight at you under his watchful red eyes. Just like his master. 

An hour and half passed, and you were starting to get numb to all the money that was being spent. The man next to you also did spend some money. He bought the painting you were eyeing earlier. And then came the mention of the diary. 

As soon as you could, you raised your hand to bid. With a glimpse of mischievousness, the man next to you raised his hand. Followed by some other people in the room. After nearly a minute of bidding, you raised your hand again. 

“Please stop playing sir. My husband is rather interested in this diary.” you muttered to the man next to you. “Stick to your paintings.” 

A suppressed laugh came as an answer as your bid was registered as a final answer. The hand of the man next to you extended towards you as the lights turned on. “It’s a pleasure to be doing business with you, little miss.” 

You frowned looking at the man’s gaze. “Business ?” 

“I am the owner of this building and the organizer of this auction. My name is Castiel, pleasure meeting you.” 

You gasped as you came to shake his hand. Dear god, why did you have to talk like that to the man who setted up a charity auction. This is why his brooch reminded you of something, it was literally plastered in the hall. 

“I am very sorry for my-”

“No offense is taken. Should we talk privately ? I will give you this diary your husband so wishes to have.” he lets go of your hand, getting up before offering his arm. 

“Yes.” you nod as you get up too, sliding your hand on the man’s arm. You were so giddy with the idea of success that you nearly didn’t realize Mephisto was cawing. 

However if you didn’t notice, it was not the case of Castiel that turned his head up towards the bird with a frown. He then asked the security to take care of it, and before you could step in and prevent this from happening, you were dragged into the man’s office. 

Once in his office, he let go of your hand. He headed towards the back of his desk, unlocking what sounded like a chest. In the meantime, you take the time to look around. The place was dark, but golden and green touches enhanced the place. You were basking in a warm light which contrasted with the cold atmosphere that was outside the sacred building. You did not move from the entrance, waiting patiently for you to be given what you had bought. 

“This book was retrieved from a bad man’s hands.” His voice broke the silence that was installed between you two. “If your husband really is interested in this script, you should be careful of him.” He said as he got closer to you handing the overused diary. 

“I will keep that in mind.” you nodded before taking the diary out of this man’s large hands. 

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth to you. This close, you could see the eyebags between his vibrant eyes. A shiver ran up your back. “I hope our paths will cross again, little miss. If charity is what you are looking for, we could always use new members.” 

Charity… “Sure. I would love to stop by once again. The fate of the N109 zone is very dear to me afterall.” You smiled. 

He hummed. “Smart girl.” his fingers brushed your chin before you stepped back. “We should get going, your husband will surely show up in about a few seconds .”

Before you could answer, Castiel’s hand was on your free wrist and was dragging you out of his office, back into the auction room and in the middle of it stood Sylus. A visibly displeased Sylus. Almost angry. He shouted your name as soon as you came into his vision. The man with dark brown hair let go of your hand softly, placing his hand on your naked back. 

“You should go, little miss. I’d hate for your husband to scare away my guests.” 

You mindlessly nodded as you felt a sensation creeping up your back, and you almost trotted back to Sylus, pushing through the bodyguards preventing him from getting closer to their leader. Once in arms reach, the white haired man pulled you under his arm, hiding you beneath his coat. 

And yet as you were leaving the scene, you could feel Castiel’s gaze burning holes in your back.

[kanencrow]

Ponds and Ponderment - Shauna Shipman | One Shot

Summary: Shauna finds you at the pond with a guitar in your arms, after you run off to get away from 'Ben's impromptu gun lesson'. She finds out your reasoning for why you don't want to take part, and the two of you share a moment of mostly peaceful conversation and comforting silence, before it's inevitably interrupted by an awkward Javi.

Warnings: Swearing, Guns, Established Relationship, Triggering Dialogue (brief talk of r's dad's attempted suicide).

A/N: All characters are 18+ by default. Feel like I got a little carried away in writing this, so forgive me if there's too much description and not enough dialogue! I edited this one as much as I could to make it so that you and Shauna have an actually established relationship, too. Didn't want to pull what I did with my last Jackie one shot and make it full of tension lol.

Word Count: 4000+

Somehow, allowing your bare feet to slide through the clear liquid of the pond they hung over provided you with a sense of calm from the otherwise stressful atmosphere, as you mindlessly plucked a tune with the nylon strings connected to the guitar in your arms. The bloom of the sun shone between the trees and onto you, while you sat at the edge of where land plummeted into a small body of water. Even with the distant thought of your impending doom while you all waited for a rescue from the forest, you still managed to find a sliver of serenity in the moment you had to yourself. Granted, the wounds – albeit trivial – still lingered as a soft throb, but the original pain had significantly lessened, which made navigating the new lifestyle you lived a little easier.

The soft melody of the instrument was all you focused on. You hummed softly, matching the notes you played with your fingers and thumbs, but it was mindless and uncoordinated in the way it progressed. Still, somehow, the music that you could hear didn't sound like nails on a chalkboard. It instilled a sense of hope, in a way. You tried to keep the tune that emitted as lighthearted as possible, and you were glad that you had seemed to succeed in something that came across as so simple to someone with a naturally optimistic mind. You made sure to relish in your own little victory, though, as the ghost of a smile creeped up onto your lips, like an annoying pull.

You were certain you would have lost yourself in the act of playing the guitar, if it weren't for the soft clearing of someone's throat from behind you, as a grouping of sticks quietly crunched under their shoe. It didn't take you long to turn your body and look over your shoulder to take in the sight of whoever approached you, and when your eyes fell onto Shauna, your posture visibly straightened, as a natural smile overtook the one that had barely been noticeable just a moment ago. Still, even then, it was small in comparison to the ones you shared with your girlfriend in the past, but it didn't seem like she took offense to your lack of expression.

"Hey, Y/n." The pause between her greeting and saying your name didn't go unnoticed by you. Maybe she was surprised to see you sitting at the edge of the earth, above a pond that hopefully didn't have anything lurking within the depths of it. Maybe she was treading lightly, not wanting to set you off, because it wasn't like you portrayed yourself as a full blown optimist when you stormed away from the cabin earlier, after Travis almost blew everyone’s head off with the rifle you found. Whatever trepidation she carried, it seemed to visibly fade, when you lifted your leg up to rest it on the grass and turned towards the brunette, your palm resting over the strings of your guitar, just so it didn't play an unwarranted tune.

"Hey, Shaunie," you greeted back, which was the ultimate sign that you weren't going to send your earlier annoyances towards her. You could tell that she appreciated such. She sent you a small smile, while she clutched her signature leather notebook against her hip, cradling it with her fingers and palm, and you couldn't help but lower your eyes to ogle the item for a moment, before you eventually flickered your gaze back up to meet her own. "What're you up to?" You made sure to keep your tone light, not wanting to come across as though you were some detective wanting to know her every move and thought, but you couldn’t really help your curiosity, since everything she did interested you.

She was your girlfriend. 

Luckily, she didn't seem to take your question the wrong way. With a simple glance down towards her notebook, Shauna shrugged her shoulders and pressed her lips together, before she lifted her chin to level her focus with your own. "Just... looking for a quiet place to write, I guess," she stated, before she slowly started walking forward, seemingly choosing the spot beside you as a good place to do such. “And, maybe I was also just looking for you,” she added on after a second, with a shy tone underlining her voice, as she lowered her head and smiled awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by her own admittance. 

The gentle smirk that formed on your cheeks in response to her demeanor was immediate, and as you followed her form, your head was forced to lift, just so you could fully watch her face while she lowered her posture and sat down. Her movements were careful, which wasn’t necessarily a surprise, considering the pond was right in front of the two of you, and by the time she set her book to the side to unlace her shoes, you scooted closer to her and slowly leaned in to press a soft kiss to the bone of her cheek. "Didn't want to be involved in Coach Ben's impromptu gun lesson?" you asked quietly, murmuring the humorous question out as you pulled your face back slightly and reached out to settle a comforting hand on her thigh. 

The position was a little awkward with the guitar in your arms, sure, but it was worth the slight discomfort, when Shauna leaned into your shoulder at your small act of affection, when you eventually turned your body to fully face the outcrops of the rest of the forest again. Your leg dropped back down to lull over the pond, and while you felt the weight of your girlfriend rest against you, you felt your chest warm, as the pad of your thumb mindlessly rubbed over one of the nylon strings of your guitar.

"Guess not," she inevitably admitted, pausing to think about it for a moment, while her brown eyes stared towards nothing in particular, "I don't think I'm meant to handle firearms," she clarified, which earned an agreeable hum from you, understanding the sentiment that you yourself couldn't help but share. 

Your girlfriend heard your sound, too, and so it didn't take her long to acknowledge you, when you felt her hand, warm and slightly calloused from the days of work around the cabin, rest against the skin of your knee, "I take it you're not a fan, either?" she questioned softly, "Is that why you left?"

"Kinda," you replied, "you remember how I used to go hunting with my dad? I'd be gone for the entire weekend, so I'd sometimes miss practice?" you reminded her quietly, as the nail of your thumb scraped along the wood of the guitar, and when she silently nodded her head against your shoulder, you continued. "He taught me how to use a rifle. We used it to kill deer, sometimes boar, or even some turkey. Y’know… whatever we could find in a forest."

You paused and squinted your eyes subconsciously, as they narrowed towards the trees. "I never told you this, but my dad had a habit of getting a little... emotional whenever he was drunk," you explained, "so... one night, I went out to the garage to grab a can of soda, and... I saw him on the steps with that same rifle held up to his chin…” you trailed off and swallowed, “it was, uh… pretty shocking."

The moment you stopped talking, your voice trailing off, Shauna's expression fell, and a look of genuine shock painted itself over her features, before she lifted her head from your shoulder and turned her face to look at you. "You... never told me that," she stated, her voice distant in thought, as her tone portrayed her disturbance. "When did that happen?" she then asked, as she subtly scooted closer to your side, pressing herself flush against you, and smoothed her free hand up to your upper thigh. She was attempting to provide you with her own form of comfort, and it seemed to work in her favor, when your knee lulled to the side slightly to nudge against her own, as if to convey your appreciation.

You shrugged your shoulders mindlessly, almost too shy to even continue, "Happened, like, a year or two ago," you admitted, as your finger mindlessly plucked a single nylon string, which emitted a quiet, high-pitched note. "He saw me, and um... I expected him to be angry with me, but he just... he started crying and promised that he wasn't going to touch a gun again." You shrugged your shoulders and flinched your eyebrows down, still confused by his reaction, to this day. "Seeing him like that was pretty... intense," you mumbled, as you lowered your head down to rest it against your guitar, your chin nestling against the wood while a sigh escaped from your nostrils. "After that, we stopped going on those trips, and I was fine with that, but... I couldn't look at a rifle the same way." You suddenly let out a quiet chuckle, "Which sounds kinda dumb when I say it out loud, but..."

"It's not dumb," Shauna replied, her voice stern, but still containing a certain softness to it, while her eyes roamed your side profile, and her hand came up from your thigh to rest against the back of your head. She spotted a fading bruise on the side of your neck when her fingers combed through the strands of your hair, and with no one around, she chanced a moment to lean towards you and press a gentle peck to your temple. "I wish you told me, but I can understand why you didn't," she admitted quietly, while she pulled away to watch you intently, her brown irises filling with concern towards you.

You shrugged, feeling heat rise to your neck at her affection, as your lips pursed in thought. "I didn't know how," you defended, "and it just felt wrong to openly say that about my dad," you told her, before the corner of your lip quivered and you let out a bittersweet huff through your nose. "My mom doesn't even know about it." You paused for a moment, before you spoke up again with a quieter volume to your voice. “It just didn’t feel right to tell anyone that my dad tried to, y’know… shoot himself." Your tone carried thought, like you were only just now thinking about that particular memory and letting yourself go through the motions. 

But you cut yourself off from thinking about for much longer.

Intentionally, you started playing the guitar that remained in your arms when Shauna didn't make the effort to respond to you. You didn't hold it against her. The quiet was something the two of you mutually found comfort in, especially when it also consisted of being in each other's presence. Simply existing together, without the need to try and fill the silent void with meaningless conversation that only came off as repetitive and annoying. It only caused you to lose yourself in the tune of your instrument, keeping it soft and weightless, for the sake of aiding the girl beside you in concentrating on whatever it was that she eventually started doing with the notebook that she had in her hands. You had only glanced down once to take in the sight of the book, but it was so quick that it didn't allow you the chance to truly snoop and figure out her intentions.

It wasn't like that was something you did anyways. You knew better than anyone else not to touch her journal, because she valued the secrecy of it. Like now, with how she was conscious in hiding the page she wrote on by lifting the leather cover to shield the paper that adorned her… questionable handwriting. It was a habit of hers more than anything – she knew you wouldn’t peek, so you couldn’t bring yourself to feel offended by the action, as obvious as it was. If anything, you felt a little envious that she was able to have that outlet. You would have killed to have some sort of camcorder or diary to relay your feelings to. You could vent, or rant, and there wouldn't have been that natural judgement one would typically get from a human being.

Though you digressed.

"What song is that?"

You heard the faint smack of Shauna closing her journal from beside you, while you peered over the guitar and watched your fingers pluck the strings. You weren't wanting to make a mistake, though at the sound of her voice, you almost did, which caused you to bring the made-up tune to a stop and retract your hand, letting your wrist hang over the thick wood of the acoustic. "Just my own," you admitted, as you turned your head to meet her curious eyes.

She gave you a look of confusion in turn, and you smiled small, as you mindlessly glanced down to look at her hands that rested over the book that sat in her lap. Seeing them made your stomach unconsciously flutter, when you thought about how they always touched you with gentleness and love. "Guess you could call it improv music making," you added, while you lifted your eyes up to look her way again, feeling bashful. "Just kinda... going with the flow."

Shauna seemed to become endeared by your explanation when a lopsided smirk creeped up onto her lips. "In all the time I’ve known you, I never knew you played." She shifted in her spot, lifting her leg up, so that it rested against the earth below you and her, and you noticed the way she turned her body to fully face you, as if to silently convey that she was open to you.

"You're good, babe," she admitted quietly, before she gestured towards the instrument and cleared her throat, growing a little embarrassed by her compliment. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. "At the guitar, I mean." She didn't need to clarify, but you still appreciated such, as a quiet huff of amusement slipped from you, while your smile grew into a soft grin.

"Thanks, Shaunie," you told her, making sure to address her by the nickname that only you and Jackie were allowed to use for her. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and it ballooned up your neck and created a borderline uncomfortable warmth that you couldn't push away, no matter how hard you tried. It was hard to ignore the fact that her compliments made you feel important. Maybe it was the reassurance that you were still good at something that caused you to feel so flattered in response to her kindness. You lacked the mental capability to handle a gun, due to the trauma that surrounded it, but at least you could play the guitar. No one else could, but you could. So, that had to count for something.

All you could do was try and search for the light that sat at the end of the tunnel, when it came to the entire situation that you and the rest of the Yellowjackets faced. You tried not to think about it, but you couldn't ignore the new lifestyle you had to live. You tried to smile, you tried to be lighthearted and optimistic towards the fact that you all were stranded in the fucking woods, but it was borderline impossible. You were lucky that you had a medical box full of Tylenol and other pain pills for your wounds – which hadn't caused too many issues for you as of late – or else… well…

You didn’t really want to think about the other outcome. 

"Are you guys not doing the gun thing?"

You snapped out of your whirlwind of thoughts when you heard the distant voice of Javi from over your shoulder. Clearing your throat, you turned your body to look at him, and Shauna did the same, her knees pulled up into her body, while yours crossed over each other to rest completely on the dirt. You hung your arms over your guitar as you addressed the younger boy with a small smile, speaking before the girl beside you could. "Nah," you replied, voice shaking slightly, which forced you to swallow thickly, "that whole gun thing isn't really our thing." Your girlfriend seemed to agree with your sentiment, when she nodded her head and let out an awkward chuckle.

Javi nodded, while he stepped over rocks and lumps that sat on the earth to make it closer to the two of you. His attention seemed to fall onto Shauna and what laid in her lap, and at his obvious focus, you couldn't help but move your attention over to where her hands sat, too. They were covering the journal that had a pen sitting within the spine of it, closed and preventing your eyes from seeing her terrible handwriting, and you found a warmth of affection bloom within your chest, seeing her protection over the notebook in action, which caused the corners of your lips to curve up into a small smile. "What are you writing?" he questioned.

Shauna's attention was immediately drawn towards the younger kid, in response to his question, and she shrugged her shoulders in reply to his curiosity. "It's my journal," she answered simply, as she glanced down at it for a split second, before she raised her brown eyes back up to meet Javi's, who donned a look of innocent confusion on his features in reply.

"Like, a diary?".

"Yeah," your girlfriend replied, "kind of." She flitted her eyes away from him to stare at nothing, seemingly losing herself in a temporary bout of thought. "It's just my way of trying to make sense of what's going on and... how I feel about it." She glanced at you and let out a quiet, nervous laugh, and you smiled softly at her in reply, while she unconsciously continued with a shrug, her focus moving back up to the younger kid. "Well, that probably sounds pretentious, but... hey, when I'm famous, they can go into the archives, right?"

"I'd buy one of your books," you uttered absentmindedly, which earned a flattered smile from Shauna, when she glanced back over to you and sent you an expression of love, just with her brown irises that you often found yourself daydreaming about. And you bashfully shrugged in turn, trying to play it cool – like you weren’t screaming from the inside at the look she gave you, as your chin lowered to rest on your guitar, and your forearm acted as a cushion as you glanced at the floor between you and her. "You know, like... if we ever get out of here," you added on, after a moment.

Javi lingered around, and his presence seemed to cast a shadow over your body, which caused you to lull your head to the side, just so you could look up at the boy while you still rested against your arm. He stared at Shauna's notebook, and it didn't take long before she recognized what he was silently trying to convey, when you heard the sound of something ripping to your left. "Here," she uttered, as he reached forward to grab the pen and slip of paper she held out for him to take, "there's no wrong way to do it."

Javi clutched the gift he received to his chest in response, and you smiled gently at the sight, as he sent her an appreciative nod, before he stepped back and walked away from the two of you without another word. You and she watched his form disappear behind a pairing of trees, and by the time he had fully vanished from your sight, you moved your gaze back over to Shauna, who held an expression of contentment on her features. Seeing happiness exude from her caused your stomach to flutter with butterflies. 

"Are we sure that's Travis' brother?" you questioned quietly, your voice echoing as a whisper. You almost expected Shauna to not hear you, with how hushed you were, but when she shifted her eyes away from where Javi had gone to look at you, it was clear that she had. You immediately noticed the way her eyebrows creased, as though your comment had confused her greatly, and her lack of understanding only seemed to endear you, when you lifted your head up from your guitar and leveled your focus with her. "He's, like... super sweet, compared to his older brother."

"Oh," Shauna hummed, suddenly realizing what you were attempting to convey. It didn't take her long to nod her head in response to your opinion, as a small laugh slipped from her lips, and she nodded her head. "Yeah, I guess he is." She glanced away to think for a moment, and you waited patiently while you shifted in your spot, trying to find more comfort in your position. "He's young, though. Who knows, that sweetness might turn into something else," she admitted, which earned an agreeable grunt from you.

But you couldn't help but grow a little disappointed at her assumption, when you lowered your gaze to focus on the nail of your thumb that mindlessly picked at the ridge of your guitar. "I really hope not." Shauna moved her brown eyes to stare down at you, and she felt a frown weigh on her lips at the melancholic expression that lined your exhausted features. "Between him and Laura Lee, I think they're the only two that have some shred of optimism left," you said, before adding, "and Jackie. I think she's trying to keep everyone's mood on the up and up, but I can tell that she's losing her hope, too." 

The way she couldn’t even get out of bed today was proof in itself. 

Shauna's expression fell into a look of deep contemplation at your words in regards to her best friend, and she absentmindedly nodded in agreement. "Yeah," she murmured, "I think you might be right."

You huffed, though it lacked the usual amusement, as you lifted your chin up to look at her with your eyes that she herself often found herself enraptured by, always loving the colors of them and the way they blended to create a unique, one-of-a-kind hue that was yours. "Unfortunately." You grabbed the neck of your guitar and lifted it off of your lap to set it beside you, and it created a quiet thump against the earth in turn. "I don't mean to be a Debby Downer, but... it's just hard to pretend. I can't pretend." You scooted closer to Shauna the moment you said those words, and she was quick to take you into her arms, when you leaned your head against her shoulder and hugged her tightly. "Not to myself, at least, or someone else who also realizes that things are pretty grim."

"It's not that I think things are grim," Shauna replied, gently countering your implicated assumption of her thoughts, as she tilted her chin down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. She breathed in deeply the moment she pulled back, before she let the air flow out of her nostrils, and when she turned her head to stare out towards the pond, you lifted your eyes to look up at her face, which allowed you to see the way her brow creased in ponderment. "I just think... people need to be more realistic, I guess," she clarified, which earned an understanding nod from you in response.

"I hear you," you uttered mindlessly, which forced Shauna to turn her head to look back down at you again, her arms squeezing you gently, as a small, melancholic smile came to her lips. You sent her one back, upon meeting her stare with a simple raise of your chin, and after a silent moment that consisted of the two of you keeping your focuses interconnected, you flicked your eyes down and stiffly shrugged, while you pressed your lips together shyly and moved one of your arms away from her waist to pluck at the fabric of her flannel. "I guess all we can really do is make the most of it, though, right?"

At your attempt to keep the atmosphere light, Shauna let out a quiet huff through her nose, before she lifted a hand to rub at your bicep and stared towards the trees, content to just watch the forest while she kept you secure in her own protective embrace. 

"Right," she muttered. 

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 19)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: Eris helps Nesta conquer her fear of fire

warnings: inner circle slander, MAJOR angst, Cassian hate

word count: 4.2k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: sorry for the short chapter (i mean it's still 4000+ words but its short for me lmao) but I'm already working on the next one but here's a Neris chapter! haven't updated this fic in too long, so I apologize. Enjoy and as always, tell me your thoughts and reactions!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18

read on ao3

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NESTA POV 

Nesta gently stroked Athariel’s silver scales as the dragon snaked its head around her, vying for attention. The beast made a low cooing noise at her touch, and Nesta chuckled to herself. She remembered the mix of awe and fear she had felt upon seeing the dragons for the first time. Ancient and mythical beasts beyond her wildest imagination, in the flesh before her very eyes. And yet at this moment, Athariel was acting more like a puppy than a dragon.

“Some fearsome beast you are.” Nesta murmured as Athariel continued to purr lowly. She reached forward to scratch behind the dragon’s right horn, and Athariel responded by closing her eyes and pushing her head further into Nesta’s hand. “Spoiled creature.”

The sweet autumn breeze funnelled into the cave and stroked Nesta’s cheek. It was an unusually cold day. Even the thick wool layers did little to keep out the biting chill that seeped into Nesta’s bones. She shivered slightly, pressing closer to the dragon for warmth.

Eris had left about ten minutes ago to fetch something for today’s training session. As usual, he refused to elaborate, only giving Nesta a playful wink that he knew would send her blood steaming when she asked what he was going to fetch. Every few days, Eris dragged her to the dragon cave to train her magic. Even after her demonstration to Beron, Eris insisted they continue the practice. “Killing my father is going to take a lot more finesse than your display, my dear.” He had explained. “My father is not an idiot. He knows how to defend himself, you do not.”

As much as she hated admitting that she liked spending time with Eris, it pained Nesta to be away from you. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had been constantly pulled away by servants, planners, dress fitters, and courtiers in preparation. It broke her heart, seeing the life slowly drain out of your eyes with each passing day. She saw how you snuck desperate glances at her as you were shuffled off for wedding business, pleading for help through the bond. There was nothing that could compare to the pain of the helplessness she felt. Eris had sternly told her to keep it together, that she had a part to play and couldn’t interfere with your engagement yet. His father would be watching your every move, and if Nesta became too involved then everything would go to hell. 

The thought of the two upcoming weddings made Nesta’s stomach churn. While she definitely got the better of Beron’s sons, there were still so many things about Eris that she couldn’t figure out. The Prince always had an angle to play, never revealing his next move until he was certain things would work out in his favour. Nesta could understand why he was helping her. Objectively, their marriage was a strong match. She had been raised by her mother for this exact role – a doting wife who appeased the males of the court, but one with a viper’s tongue who was able to hold her own and get exactly what she wanted. Eris would benefit from it too, having a Cauldron-made female at his side whose powers dwarfed any of those in his court. 

But his angle with you was something Nesta couldn’t figure out. Helping you was a huge risk for him, one that placed both you and the Prince in danger. Throwing you out of the Autumn Court and delivering you back to Rhysand would have been the smart move for Eris, as it would have eased the tension between Autumn and Night after Nesta had slipped through Rhysand’s grasp. Helping you was a risk that Nesta couldn’t understand why Eris was so willing to take. She had tried probing him about it a few times, but he had always brushed her off.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Eris strode back into the cave, a bundle of sticks and wood in his arms. He dumped them on the floor, the clattering noise echoing throughout the dragon’s den. Morgoth’s massive dark head appeared from the shadows, emitting a low rumbling noise that shook Nesta’s bones as he sniffed his master. Eris chuckled, saying something to the dragon in a language Nesta did not understand as he stroked its nose.

She frowned at the pile of wood on the floor. “You went out to collect sticks?”

Eris smirked. “Brilliant observation, Nesta Archeron. You never cease to amaze me.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Prick. What do sticks have to do with training my magic?”

“Because it’s hard to train fire-related magic when you’re utterly terrified of fire itself.”

Nesta froze, panic rising in her chest. Athariel nudged her now-still hand, as if sensing her anxiety. But she kept a straight face and said evenly, “I do not know what you mean.”

Eris scoffed, bending down and arranging the sticks. “Oh, please. You flinch every time the hearth is lit. You look like you’ve seen a ghost whenever I use my magic around you. Deny it all you want, but I see right through you, my dear.”

She blanched at his words. His tone was not accusing nor angry, but casual and nonchalant. He wasn’t trying to put her down, but simply pointed out an observation. Nesta’s throat closed up as she realised just how much Eris truly picked up on. Not once did Cassian ever seem to notice how she flinched from every fire he lit, or how her room was always freezing and damp because she refused to use the fireplace. He had been too focused on fucking her to ever truly see through the front she put up.

“You do not have to tell me why,” Eris said, a bit softer this time. “But fear will distract you, and we cannot afford to have you distracted at this time. I will not force you to face this fear if you truly feel that you cannot, but I believe you are able to. You have already overcome so much, Archeron. Let this be just another obstacle.”

His gentle encouragement surprised Nesta, despite having experienced it before. She always found herself comparing his words to Cassian and the Inner Circle’s. The Inner Circle always gave her the illusion of a choice, two bad options with one worse than the other, forcing her to choose the lesser of two evils and end up going with what worked best for their agenda. There was no choice in training with Cassian, it was presented as something she simply had to do. 

Eris, on the other hand, always offered her a way out – another option even if it was one that made his life more difficult. He would explain the upsides and downsides to each path with logic, not manipulation. It was something Nesta grew to appreciate. He never backed her into a corner, or wanted her to submit.

She hated how the way she was treated in the Night Court followed her around like a ghost, haunting her every move. Guilt churned in her gut every time she instinctively snapped at Eris, anticipating that she would be forced into something. To his credit, he did not appear phased by her reactions and would wave off any apologies. It was something the Inner Circle had never understood about her. Nesta’s life had been taken out of her hands when she was snatched in the middle of the night and forced into the Cauldron. She did not choose to become fae, and now suddenly she had an immortal life ahead of her and no idea what to do with it. Yet her choices in the Night Court were never her own. Someone always decided what was best for her, rather than letting her figure out this transition at her own pace.

But Eris always gave her a choice. Nesta knew Eris wanted her to overcome her fear of fire for everyone’s sake, and she trusted him enough by now that she knew if she said no, he would drop the subject rather than push her buttons. So she took a breath, staring at the pile of sticks the Prince had assembled. “Ok,” She said. “I’ll do it.”

 *********************

Half an hour later, Nesta’s breath was slightly less shaky. Her back was pressed against Athariel’s silver neck, the heated scales of the dragon adding extra warmth against the damp autumn chill. A small orange fire blazed a few feet in front of her, that haunting snapping noise echoing throughout the cave. It took every ounce of self control Nesta had to not panic, taking deep breaths to try and push down the bile in her throat. 

Eris sat beside her, his arm ever so slightly grazing hers. He had spent the past thirty minutes monologuing about anything and everything, a welcome distraction to help Nesta focus on something else other than the crackling of the fire. He told all types of stories, ranging from tales of the ancient beings in Prythian to recounting the time Lucien accidentally killed Eris’s favourite fish by taking it out of the water to get fresh air. Nesta had not chimed in, but let out a snort at the latter story. She had seen Eris smile out of the corner of her eye. A true smile, not his usual arrogant smirk. It made her heart flutter, seeing the autumn Prince so relaxed. 

As time passed, the less Nesta flinched at the noises from the fire. Her body began to relax, and she saw less of her father’s face across her mind and began to appreciate the beauty of the orange flames. They still unsettled her and if she could smite them out this second she would. But she no longer felt the urge to crawl out of her own skin.

“... And I ate every last bit of that so-called ‘birthday cake’ Lucien made,” Eris rambled on, following another story about him and his youngest brother. “It was ghastly. Every bite made me want to hurl my guts up, but my brother looked so young and proud of his creation that I couldn’t hurt his feelings. Although he has always been a slippery little bastard, so part of me wondered if he was just playing innocent and deliberately made me a disgusting cake on purpose to see if I loved him enough to pretend it was good.”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed at that. She turned her head to meet Eris’s gaze. He made no jibing remark about how rare a laugh like that was for her, like Cassian would have done. He simply smiled, the orange light of the fire casting artful shadows across his pale skin.

“Eris,” Nesta began hesitantly, the noise of the fire fading into the background. “Can I ask you something?”

The heir shrugged. “I am an open book, Nesta Archeron. Ask away.”

She snorted. “Ok, well we both know that’s not true.”

“If you want to know my deepest darkest secrets, my dear, all you have to do is ask.” Eris purred. Nesta’s blood heated at his velvety voice, and she pushed herself to focus.

“What happened to Lucien?” She asked. “I was never told much about him, even by (Y/N). All I know is that he was in the Spring Court with Feyre when she was there, and he was in that room in Hybern with the Cauldron. And that he’s Elain’s mate and is now bouncing between the mortal lands and the Night Court.”

Eris sighed. “It’s complicated, Nesta.”

“I’m just trying to understand his role in all of this.”

“Including if he would be a good mate to your sister, am I correct?”

Nesta swallowed her sadness. She had tried not to think about Elain these past few weeks. The memory of finding out Elain had been the one to pack up what little belongings she had in her apartment stung like a fresh wound. “No,” She corrected Eris. “Because I appear to be the only one from the Night Court who likes to think of him as his own person, not just Elain’s mate. Who Elain chooses to be with is no longer my concern.”

Eris nodded. “Very well. Lucien is the youngest of my brothers, and my father was especially cruel to him. What I am about to tell you cannot leave this cave, understood?”

Nesta nodded, curious.

“Lucien is not my father’s son. My mother had an affair with Helion, the High Lord of the Day Court. I figured it out quickly, but my mother always denied it. My father had suspicions but no proof, so he took every opportunity he could to punish Lucien. He hated that Lucien never cared about his royal status, and that he frequently made friends with individuals that my father deemed unworthy – (Y/N) included. One day, he met a lesser faerie named Jesminda. When my father found out about it, he had two of my brothers hold Lucien back as he executed Jesminda right in front of him.”

Nesta chose her words carefully. “Were you… were you there?”

Eris looked at her sharply. “Yes, I was. But I refused my fathers request to kill Jesminda, so he did it himself. It is the only thing I have ever refused him, even to this day. And I paid the price for it.”

“What did he do to you?”

“That matters not. Once I was released from the dungeons, my spies informed me that my father was planning on killing Lucien. I knew my brother was smart and would flee to the Spring Court, so I alerted Tamlin to the situation. Tamlin found Lucien at the border and killed two of my three brothers that had been sent after him to slaughter Lucien on our father’s orders.”

Nesta picked at a thread on her sleeve and asked dryly, “Let me guess, Malgorm was the one who escaped Tamlin’s claws?”

Eris snorted humourlessly. “Yes. Somehow, Malgorm always finds a way to escape death. It’s incredibly annoying.”

“Does Lucien know what you did for him?”

“No. He does not. And it does not matter if he did know, it would not change his hatred for me.”

A sadness overtook Eris’s eyes that pained Nesta. With a sick feeling in her gut, she knew looking at Eris was like looking in a mirror. Two eldest children with a cruel parent, twisted and moulded into their parent’s perfect creation. Nesta knew that Feyre would always see her as their mother’s favourite, but never knew just how much Nesta suffered underneath her. How Nesta would plead to the universe every night that their mother would turn her attention elsewhere because neglect was better than cruelty to her. Feyre did not know that her grandmother had beaten her, or that her mother had pulled Nesta’s hair until she cried and deprived her of meals to keep her thin. Nesta had never told her, not only for fear of showing weakness, but because she knew that Feyre had been so neglected she wouldn’t truly be able to understand that their mother’s attention was not something to be desired.

And Eris was the same. All the tales Nesta had heard of him portrayed the male as a worse version of Beron, a perfect eldest son and soldier for the High Lord to wield like a sword. But he had done so much to protect his younger brother, and just like Nesta, had never told him because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully understand it. They were both disliked by their youngest sibling for being their parent’s prized pupils, oblivious to the whole story. Even though Eris had not answered her question, Nesta knew that what Beron had put him through was a thousand times worse than anything her mother had done. Deep down, she knew that Eris was just as broken as she was. Their main difference was Eris had centuries of practice in masking it, whereas Nesta did not.

“You’re not a bad male, Eris.” Nesta said softly, her gaze lost in the warm amber of his eyes.

“You hardly know me.” His voice was bitter, the aloof arrogant mask he wore threatening to slide up and hide the vulnerability Nesta had seen in his face moments ago. “I’ve done horrible things in the name of my father, Nesta. Things that would make you run back to the Night Court if you knew.”

“I don’t judge people for what they had to do to survive.” Nesta insisted, her voice even. “You may have your own secret agenda, Eris, but you’ve treated me better than most people have in a long, long time. Do not think I don’t appreciate that.”

Eris laughed, and the haunted look was shoved from his face. “My dear, how you have been treated is appalling, even to me. Let’s not have that be the standard, I beg you.”

“How do you know I didn’t deserve it?” Nesta said before she could stop herself. It simply slipped out, the guilt that had been shoved down her throat by the Inner Circle ever since she became fae entrapping her words once again. It was an exhausting uphill battle. Every day, she told herself that she was right to flee the Night Court, to try and make a life for herself outside Velaris. But every day those seeds of doubt wriggled their way into her thoughts, trapping her inside a web of self hatred that she had fought so hard to get out of.

“Seriously?” Eris said incredulously, eyebrows raised. He shifted so he was facing Nesta, and he took her still trembling hands in his own. “Tell me, what criminal, abhorrent offence have you committed to warrant being treated like shit and locked up?”

Nesta’s throat was dry. “I didn’t try and help my family like Feyre did when we were in poverty.”

Eris shook his head. “You are the eldest daughter, not the parent. It was not your responsibility to provide for your family.”

“I was mean to Feyre on several occasions.”

“You’re sisters, that’s supposed to happen. You should hear the vicious things my brothers and I say to each other.”

“I spent a ton of Rhys’s money on alcohol, drinking myself stupid every night.”

“Please, that male has more money than anyone I know, my dear. I assure you his bank account was not dented in the slightest.”

“I slept my way through the city after the war.”

“Everyone in that little Inner Circle has fucked more fae than anyone I know. Your number is nothing compared to theirs.” Eris said calmly. “All I’m hearing is that a newly turned fae female was traumatised after being dragged into a brutal war she did not ask for, and found unhealthy yet very normal ways of coping. So tell me again, what actual horrid thing have you done to deserve any of this?”

Tears filled Nesta’s eyes as she listed her sins, the crackling of the fire fading into the background. She knew Eris was right, his logical mind soothing her anxious one. Talking about it with Eris was different than talking about it with you. You had been just as angry as Nesta had, forced into the same situation as her and kept in the House of Wind against your will, the Inner Circle using the fact that they had saved both your lives as leverage to make you do what they wanted. You were someone who Nesta could rant to about it and get angry, letting that hatred she felt out to someone who knew exactly what she meant. But Eris was different. He rationalised her thoughts, providing a different kind of reassurance. 

She couldn’t stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. Nesta bit her wobbling lip, trying to keep more from spilling out. Eris released one of her hands, bringing it up to her face and gently brushing the tears away. “They’ve done a number on you, haven’t they?” He murmured softly, cupping her cheek.  “What are you thinking right now, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta inhaled deeply, pressing her face slightly harder into Eris’s warm hand. The smell of smoke and forest engulfing her senses. “That I am scared,” She admitted. “For so many reasons. I am scared that Cassian will find me and steal me back to Velaris. That everything we’ve done has all been for nothing. I’m scared that your father will find us out somehow and kill us all. I’m scared for (Y/N) and her engagement to your awful brother. And I hate myself, Eris. I hate myself for who I’ve become not just because I am now fae, but because the person I was before the Cauldron would not have given in and trained with Cassian. I… I am afraid that with this new immortality ahead of me I will not recognize the girl I used to be, and not in a good way. I hate that I have let the words of people who barely know me cut this deeply, and I am ashamed of it.”

Eris continued to use his thumb to brush away the fresh tears on her cheeks. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have had a difficult hand dealt to you, Nesta.” Eris said softly. “And they should have known better. Do not be ashamed. For anything. Just know you have (Y/N), just as you have me. We will not let the Night Court take you, I swear on my mother’s life. Your mate cares for you, and I… I care for you, too.”

Nesta opened her mouth to respond, but a strange sensation in her chest stopped her. It suddenly felt like she was falling through space, the stars overhead spinning around her as she plummeted towards a strange light. She gasped, and felt Eris tense up as well. In her mind, she saw her silver flames dancing towards orange ones. They intertwined, braiding together and forming a magical rope-like appearance. Nesta reached down in her mind, her heartbeat racing as she grabbed a hold of it. She peered down to where the flames had extended to, seeing a flaming silhouette on the other end, her silver flames surrounding it affectionately. 

And so she reached forward, extending a mental hand into that flaming silhouette.

And Eris gasped. 

Nesta’s eyes shot open, and she lurched back from the Autumn Prince’s touch. Eris’s face was ghostly pale, and he was panting as if he had just fought off a hundred soldiers at once. Athariel hissed behind her, not happy to be awoken by the sudden movement. Her mouth was dry. She had felt this feeling before, but with you. That flaming rope she had followed felt the same as the pull of the tattoo on her sternum.

The mating bond.

The flaming silhouette at the other end of the magical rope was Eris Vanserra. Nesta’s mind reeled, her body threatening to combust with the feeling inside her chest. She could only stare at the male before her in shock.

Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours. Your words rang in Nesta’s head like a bell, making her feel dizzy. No, she thought. This isn’t possible. You were her mate, how could this happen? There was still that strange feeling in her chest from Cassian, which confused her even more. The feeling of one mating bond within her was overwhelming enough, but two? Nesta didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Eris…” His voice was like a prayer on her lips, sounding completely different than the previous hundred times she had said it. It was like a song, carrying over to the shaken autumn prince and snapping him out of his trance.

“Nesta.” Her blood sang at the sound of her name, silver flames sparking from her fingertips in response. 

“Like calls to like…” She muttered, recalling Eris’s repetition of the phrase. And then it dawned on her. Eris had consistently told her that like calls to like, and she had thought he was talking about their similarities in magic.

Fury rose within her, drowning out everything else. “Did you know?” She hissed at Eris.

The male’s eyes were wide, and he stuttered. “I–”

“Did you fucking know?” Nesta growled. “Is this the only reason you agreed to help us? So you could use the bond to trap me. Is that what you wanted? To keep me prisoner here, just like your father did to your mother?”

Eris blanched, flinching like he had been struck. Nesta felt it, the blow of her words, as if she had been punched in the chest. “I swear, I did not know.” Eris pleaded. “Nesta, please, you have to trust me. I had no idea about this.”

Nesta rose to her feet, her entire body shaking. She climbed onto Athariel’s back, nudging the dragon forward with her heels. Athariel grumbled, but got to her feet and began to crawl out of the cave. Her hands shook as she held onto the dragon’s horns. She stared down at Eris, who appeared paralyzed in shock as he looked up at her. Nesta’s voice was cold as ice as she said, “I don’t believe you.”

And as Athariel spread her wings and took to the sky, Nesta had not noticed the fire had gone out completely.

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Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

Whumptober Day 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK | Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.”

Whumptober Day 2: TRUST ISSUES | Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.”

Whumptober Day 9: OBSESSION | Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.”

Whumptober Day 18: REVENGE | Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.”

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Tranquilizer Dart

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 4000

Tag List: @badthingshappenbingo @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @the-ellia-west

CW: 2nd person POV, running, attempted escape, tranquilizer dart, failed escape, amnesisa, noncon drugging, carewhumper, deception, panic, knife, needles, blood, threats, broken glass, drowning, bad ending

A/N: It's only day 1 and I'm already combining prompts like the madwoman I am. This is based on a dream I had at the beginning of September, and believe me when I say all four of these days PLUS the BTHB all apply.

----------

You are running for your life.

You hear shouts some distance behind you as you sprint through the woods, hands held protectively in front of your face as pine branches whip past you, striking any exposed skin with a harsh sting. You can only hope that the branches that slow you down also slow down your pursuers, and you seem to be right, the shouts are getting quieter.

You had a good head start, you think. Before you started running, things were kind of a blur. But that’s why you had to run. Right?

It doesn’t matter. You’re running for your life, your bare feet pounding against the pine-needle-covered ground, enduring torture from the branches you push through. Your calf muscles are beginning to ache, and you have stitches on both sides, but you keep running.

Running is better than being caught. You’re not sure why that is, but you know that with absolute certainty. And that certainty is what keeps you running.

So you run.

And run.

And run.

And—

You burst free from the thicket of pines into some sort of clearing covered in dead, dry branches, perhaps from a storm long ago. Glancing up, you glimpse the sky through the gap in the trees, and hope swells within you. No longer hindered by the trees you just forced yourself through, you put on more speed, dodging around the graveyard of branches.

Pain erupts in your thigh.

You stumble, looking down to find a feathered dart sticking out of your leg. Not daring to glance back, you yank it out and keep running, nearly to the far side of the clearing.

But the damage has already been done.

The world blurs before your eyes, and the ground seems to vanish beneath your feet. You crash to the ground, pain tearing through your hands, arms, and back.

You landed on one of the dead branches. The delicate twigs must be sharper than you realized. Lethargically, you raise one of your hands to your face, but the world is still too blurred—or your eyes are still too unfocused—to make out anything but a vague red splotch among the brown and gray and green. Your hand falls.

Dead pine needles crunch as someone approaches. You try to turn your head, but it doesn’t move. A shadow falls over you, and you barely see a dark silhouette at the edge of your vision.

No.

Someone’s hands appear, supporting your neck and legs.

No.

The hands lift you up, away from the branch, away from the ground.

“Nonono….” you mumble, trying to move, trying to get away.

You do not move. You do not get away.

“It’s okay, I got you,” a voice says.

You do not recognize the voice.

“You’re safe now.”

You are not safe.

“You must be so tired from all that running.”

The voice speaks the truth.

“Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.”

You can’t rest.

But your traitorous body thinks otherwise. Your eyelids slide closed, and the entire world spins around you as the voice begins to carry you away. You don’t know where.

You don’t want to go with them.

But as the drug contained in the dart pulls you under, you find you don’t have the energy to care anymore.

----------

“...how far…”

“No… last time….”

“...thicket…?”

“Ha! That didn’t… a bit….”

----------

You open your eyes, and you are not alone.

You lay on your back in the softest bed you ever recall sleeping in, a plush pillow beneath your head and a warm blanket over your body. The ceiling is dark paneled wood, and the walls are decorated with faded wallpaper patterned with flowers.

An armchair has been pulled up next to your bed, and a man sits in it, reading a book whose title you cannot make out. He glances up as you turn your head, and smiles.

“Hello,” he says gently, “how are you feeling?”

You stare at him for a moment, thinking. Now that your attention is drawn to it, you are aware of bandages wrapped around your hands and forearms. You raise your hands, feeling a strange sense of deja vu, but nothing about them seems out of the ordinary aside from the white cloth wrapped around your palms. Flexing your fingers causes a slight twinge of discomfort, not quite pain but not nothing, either.

“What happened?” You try to ask, but your voice catches. You clear your throat and try again.

“You had quite the fall in the woods,” the man explains, closing his book and setting it on the nightstand beside your bed. A cup of clear liquid sits next to it, and he hands it to you. “Here, drink.”

When you hesitate, he smiles patiently. “It’s just water.”

The water has a faint metallic aftertaste, but that’s not unusual. You think. Perhaps it’s well water.

“You can call me Theron,” the man says as you sip at the water. “I found you semiconscious in the woods near my house. Your arms and hands were pretty scratched up, and I thought you just had a mild concussion until you passed out and wouldn’t wake up.”

“Oh…” you mumble, frowning. You don’t remember any of that. You remember… uh… that… you remember running. And falling. But now you’re not sure.

“What’s your name?”

You open your mouth to answer confidently, but the words die on your lips as you realize that no, you don’t know your own name. Your hands begin to tremble, and Theron quickly takes the cup from you and sets it back on the nightstand. “I…” you stammer, “I’m sorry… I don’t remember… I don’t….”

“Hey,” Theron says gently, taking your hands in his own, “that’s okay. I’m sure it’ll come back to you soon. I don’t suppose you know why you were in the woods?”

“I…” you begin hesitantly, now half-convinced that the blurry memories of running and falling might just have been dreams, “I think… I think I was running. And I tripped… I think. But no… I don’t know why I was running.”

“I’m sure you had a reason,” Theron encourages, “just give it time, you’re still healing. You’re probably hungry, so how about we get some food from the kitchen? Do you feel up to coming with me?”

You think for a moment, gauging how well your body would react to standing up and walking. You're not dizzy or anything, maybe a little light-headed, but considering what Theron said it made sense. Your hands and arms with their aching sort of discomfort, but otherwise you think you feel okay. "I think so."

Theron nods and rises from his chair, holding out a hand to you. You push back the blankets covering you to discover that you're wearing clothes that are comfortable but don't seem like the kind of thing you'd typically wear. Soft, flowing garments of a muted green color. As Theron helps you to your feet, you can't help but think that while the clothes are comfortable, something about them feels slightly off to you.

"Is everything all right?"

You realize your confusion mixed with a vague sense of disgust must be showing on your face. "Yeah," you lie, "just a little light-headed. I'm okay now."

An emotion quickly crosses his face, gone so quickly you don't have time to place it. But he immediately accepts your explanation, leading you to the door. "Let me know if you need to rest. The kitchen isn't far."

"Okay."

Theron opens the door and moves out into the hallway, and your breath catches in your throat, along with the realization that this isn't simply a house. It is a full-on manor. The carpet on the floors is a deep burgundy, and while the walls are simple dark wooden panels, they are adorned with paintings and lined with small tables with sculptures and decorative china and lamps resting upon them. Massive windows allow natural light to illuminate the hallway, revealing a thick forest beyond the walls of the manor.

The two of you are also not the only ones in the manor. You pass by three people on the way to the kitchen, two men and one woman, all dressed in uniforms colored in black and green. They all nod to you and Theron in greeting as they pass.

"My household staff," Theron explains, noticing the way you stare. "It's a lot of work for one person to run a place this size."

"How many are there?" You ask softly, wondering if the latest passerby is still in earshot.

"No more than twenty, usually. On special occasions I hire temporary staff. Things like parties, renovations, or hunts."

You tilt your head curiously. "'Hunts'?"

"Yes. I own an extensive amount of land, roughly several square miles. I host hunts in the autumn and winter for a number of seasoned huntsmen. They're the most chaotic of the events I host, with many guests and the usual fast pace of a hunt, but I enjoy them immensely."

You contemplate his words as you enter a room that appears to be a dining room, with a heavy table in the center lined with chairs. A simple white tablecloth covers it, with a lace runner down the center. A chandelier provides the illumination, lighting the room with a warm vaguely yellow light cast from the electric bulbs. Theron leads the way past the table into a swinging door opposite the door you came in through, entering into the kitchen proper.

The kitchen is devoid of activity, dark and completely deserted. Theron flicks a light switch, and a single row of overhead lights snap to life, leaving the rest of the kitchen in darkness. The lights show a few countertops, one with a sink, several cabinets, a row of metal refrigerators, one of many stoves, and a plain table in the corner laden with a tea tray, near a door that you guess leads to a pantry. A kettle rests on the stove you can see.

Theron ushers you to one of the chairs around the small table and pulls it out for you to sit. You obey, still mulling over his earlier explanations. What was I doing on his land, if he owns 'several square miles' of it? Was I one of his hunters? If so, shouldn't he know my name?

You realize you still don't fully believe his story about a fall. Perhaps it's just the lack of headache, but something about it, something about everything rubs you the wrong way.

"How long was I unconscious?"

Theron pauses as he fills the kettle with water. He frowns in thought for a moment. "Most of the day," he finally says, turning off the faucet. He places the kettle on one of the stove burners and turns it on with a click. "Roughly sixteen hours. I found you yesterday, sometime in the evening, when I was out on a walk to clear my head before the sun went down. It's now mid-afternoon."

You nod hesitantly. That same uneasiness still curls in the pit of your stomach, almost taking away your appetite.

"We're lucky I found you when I did," he continues, crossing the kitchen and opening the nearby door. You spy rows of well-stocked shelves inside. Indeed a pantry. "We're currently in the off-season for hunting, but who knows what sorts of creatures might wander about the grounds?"

He returns with a covered basket. Setting it on the table, he returns to the stove and removes the tea kettle, steam now rising from its spout, and brings it over to the table, putting it next to the basket. Finally, he ducks back into the pantry and returns with a few small jars carefully stacked in his hands. The jars all appear to contain the exact same dried leaves.

"All right," Theron says, pulling out the chair opposite you and sitting down, "take your pick. I grabbed white tea, green tea, and herbal tea."

You slowly nod, as if you had any way of knowing which jars held which tea. Do you even like tea? After a long moment, you point to the one on the right. Theron smiles and takes it, unscrewing the top and scooping the contents into the teapot with a little teaspoon. He doesn't clarify which is which, and you don't ask.

"How are you feeling?" He asks gently, setting aside the jars of tea. "You look overwhelmed."

"A little bit," you admit, tracing a finger along the wood grain on the table. "It's just... it's a lot... and I just woke up... and I still don't remember anything...."

Theron hums in sympathy. "I can't claim to understand, but I'll do my best to make you comfortable. Just let me know what you need, okay?"

You smile uneasily. His words were intended to put you at ease, but they somehow have the opposite effect. You simply nod, unsure of how to even articulate the sense of wrongness about all this.

Theron doesn't press you any further, instead pouring tea into two small cups. A light, almost floral scent rose from the orange-colored liquid along with the steam. Perhaps you had chosen herbal? You didn't know what white tea was supposed to look like, but green tea you assumed was supposed to be, well, green. Theron pushes one of the cups towards you and removes the cloth cover from the basket, revealing an assortment of rolls and pastries.

You grab one covered in a yellow glaze and bite into it. The glaze is sweet, balanced by an almost plain flavor from the pastry. You almost expect the taste to invoke a memory, but it does not. The tea is almost too hot to taste, but you taste enough to cement that you have chosen herbal tea.

Silence settles over the kitchen as you eat, Theron nibbling at a poppyseed muffin. Your earlier apprehension and fear seem to evaporate by the time you finish the pastry and the cup of tea. You consider taking another roll, but somehow find your eyes glazing over.

"You okay?" Theron asks quietly.

You blink up at him and almost nod, but instead, you shake your head. "My head," you say in a whisper.

He pushes back his chair and stands, holding a hand out to help you up as well. Your vision tunnels as he pulls you upright. "Here," he says softly, "I'll take you back to your room so you can rest, and I'll come back when it's time for dinner. If you're feeling up to it, you can eat in the dining room. If not, I'll bring it to your room. Sounds good?"

Anything involving rest sounds good. You nod and smile, although somehow, you feel this isn't right. But the feeling quickly evaporates like the morning mist in sunlight.

----------

It is late at night. You slowly drift fully awake, alone in your room, and for a few moments, everything is peaceful. You are numb, and comfortable, and happy.

The peace vanishes. And everything off crashes down upon you like a tidal wave of anxiety.

You bolt into a sitting position, hands pressed against your temples as the pieces fall into place. You had fallen, yes, but not out of a tree. Theron had found you, yes, but he had not rescued you. He had retrieved you.

You were trying to escape.

You need to get out of here.

Panic racing through you like lightning strikes, you throw off your covers and get out of bed, crossing the room to the door. Your hand is on the door handle when your logical mind catches up with you. What if Theron sees you? What if one of the staff sees you?

The kitchen isn't far, you think. Your memories of the past few days are such a murky, blurry mess you aren't certain how long you've been here. But you think you can get to the kitchen, get a knife or some other weapon. And then find a way out. A door, or breaking a window would suffice. As long as you could run and get away and stay away, this time.

Your heart beats like a drum in your chest, but you force yourself to pause and listen for movement outside in the hallway. Silence. Everyone is asleep. Should be asleep. Just like you should be.

You still aren't sure how you had been so docile this whole time. It seemed like every time a rebellious thought occurred, a thought of escape, it had simply vanished. Until now.

Which was why you needed to get out of here fast. Before the soothing, dreamy, terrifying calm settled back over you like a smothering blanket.

You turn the door handle slowly. It clicks softly, but in the quiet of the night, it might as well have been as loud as thunder. You freeze, handle still partly turned, and listen again. Still nothing. And it had better stay that way.

The door is silent as you ease it open. Another thing you had noticed but somehow never registered. None of the doors creaked or squeaked, the hinges were always kept well-oiled and straightened. Was that a preference, or protocol?

It doesn't matter.

Silence envelopes the hallway. You tread carefully, bare feet padding on the soft carpet, marveling at just how dark the manor can get. Every shadow that could hide a potential threat also hides you. The moonlight shining through the windows is the only thing lighting your path, filtered through dark gray clouds.

You stare out the window. You have been here before, in this very spot, staring at this very sight. Adrenaline floods through you at the thought, and you shake your head and move on. Kitchen. Quickly.

The dining room is pitch black, but the light from the hallway is just enough to show a path to the opposite door. As you pass the dining table, you are struck by a hazy memory of dining there with Theron. The memory is clouded like the night sky, and you move on before you can dwell too much on it, flicking on the kitchen light and dashing to the knife block.

Your hand closes around the largest one, but before you can pull it out, someone speaks.

"Well..." Theron says casually as he seems to melt out from the shadows, twirling a slim object in his fingers, "I was wondering when you'd wake back up."

You yank the knife out of the block and point it at him. "Stay back!"

He regards you with an amused expression. "I must admit, you are quite the predictable prize. You always come here for a weapon. You always choose the same chef's knife. And you always pause at that one window. I'm sure you've noticed the familiarity, correct?"

You back away. "Enough with your damned games! I'm leaving."

Theron steps forward. The light gleams off the object in his hands. A syringe filled with a clear fluid. "You like to say that too. I must say, this repetition is getting boring. I might have to move on to more interesting prey."

He lunges, closing the distance between you so quickly you almost don't notice. He drives the syringe into your shoulder and pushes the plunger.

No! I will not succumb!

You duck backward, bringing the hand with the knife around and slashing it across Theron's chest. It tears through his shirt and cuts into his flesh, spattering blood on the ground. He staggers, staring at the blood in shock. Without thinking, you slam the knife handle into his skull, sending him to the floor.

Theron groans and tries to rise. A grim satisfaction settles over you as you yank the syringe out of your shoulder and cast it aside. Your head's already swimming, but you won't give in. Can't give in.

You flee back through the dining room. The nearest window does not open, but it, like Theron's skull, is no match for the handle of your stolen knife. You strike the glass with all your strength, and it takes three before the window breaks.

One. The impact jars your entire arm, and small cracks begin to form on the surface of the glass.

Two. The cracks spiderweb across the window.

Three. The glass shatters into a hundred thousand shards, scattering across the lavish carpet and the ground outside the manor in a cascade. The knife slips out of your hand, but you don't bother to retrieve it, scrambling through the opening and hitting the ground outside with a thud. Glass digs into the soles of your feet, but you don't hesitate before breaking into a sprint.

Keep running.

Just keep running.

You try to go north, but after a few moments, you are struck with such an intense deja vu that you recoil and veer east instead.

----------

You are running for your life.

You hear shouts some distance behind you as you sprint through the woods, hands held protectively in front of your face as pine branches whip past you, striking any exposed skin with a harsh sting. You can only hope that the branches that slow you down also slow down your pursuers, and you seem to be right, the shouts are getting quieter.

You had a good head start, you think. Before you started running, things were kind of a blur. But that’s why you had to run. Right?

It doesn’t matter. You’re running for your life, your bare feet pounding against the pine-needle-covered ground, enduring torture from the branches you push through. Your calf muscles are beginning to ache, your bare feet throb and sting, and you have stitches on both sides, but you keep running.

Running is better than being caught. You’re not sure why that is, but you know that with absolute certainty. And that certainty is what keeps you running.

So you run.

And run.

And run.

And—

The forest abruptly ends at the shore of a fast-moving river, the water churning so violently you can’t make out how deep it is. You pause at the bank, bouncing on your toes in panicked impatience as you try to gauge how wide the river is. If you can swim that far.

Drowning is better than getting caught.

You splash into the water, the riverbed at such a steep incline that you fall forward, immediately forced to swim. The river battles you at every stroke, and you are tired, your limbs ache from running, and after only moments of swimming, you know you will not make it across.

You’re not sure why, but you are not frightened by this realization.

You are halfway across the river when complete exhaustion settles over you, making your limbs feel as if their bones are made out of solid stone and your flesh heavier than titanium. Your body stills, and you sink beneath the surface of the water, allowing its currents to pull you far, far away. Your lungs burn, not wanting to release the precious air you have left.

The world darkens around you, and you feel at peace.

Air re-enters your lungs, harsh in its vitality. You gasp, coughing and choking, expelling water with each spasm. Rough hands slam against your back, forcing the liquid out.

No.

The hands turn you over, supporting your head. Sharp pain stings your neck, and you gasp in brief recognition before your thoughts begin to muddle.

No.

The hands lift you up, away from the river, away from the ground.

“Nonono….” you mumble, trying to move, trying to get away.

Your body twitches, but you do not move. You do not get away.

“It’s okay, I got you,” a voice says.

You do not recognize the voice.

“You’re safe now.”

You are not safe.

“You must be so tired from all that running.”

The voice speaks the truth.

“Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.”

You can’t rest.

But your traitorous body thinks otherwise. Your eyelids slide closed, and the entire world spins around you as the voice begins to carry you away. You don’t know where.

You don’t want to go with them.

But as exhaustion pulls you under, you find you don’t have the energy to care anymore.

[kandisheek]

Hey friend!! I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to let you know how much I adore your works, and how your presence in fandom has always been a delight. I love your year in fan recs—it’s so wonderful to see so many names I haven’t heard of before, giving folks a chance to read something new and giving less well known authors a chance to shine!!

How about some fun asks now?

If you were suddenly a billionaire and could quit your job and fully engage with fandom for the rest of your life, would you?

What’s a fic you’ve been dying to write but just haven’t gotten to yet?

Why do you love Tony Stark?

Oh my god, you're the absolute sweetest, thank you so much <3 I can only return the sentiment, your fics are a constant source of joy for me <3 And I'm so happy that you found some new authors through my recs! As for your questions:

If I were suddenly a billionaire I'd probably try to take over the world Tony Stark style and (most likely fail to) fix all the agregious wrongs, so I might actually end up not having time for fandom stuff anymore whoops 😂 But in all seriousness, if I could live off fandom writing and arting, I absolutely would. Although I'm fortunate enough to love my real life job as well.

I've been planning to write this fic for ages, in which Tony is with Ty and due to their relationship troubles (which are solely Tony's fault, of course, at least according to Ty) Ty signs them up for a couples retreat. Turns out its a tantric fix-your-sex-life thing, which Ty knew but Tony didn't, so that's great. And guess who Tony runs into on the first day? His ex that got away, Steve Rogers, and his lovely fiance Sharon. Seems like Steve's gay crisis after his stint with Tony led him right back to the straight life, which is just the cherry on top of Tony's shitty sundae. However, it turns out that Steve and Sharon's relationship is far from perfect, just like Tony's. And Tony does remember how happy he used to be with Steve. He highly doubts that Steve thinks the same though. Right? -- I swear I will write this eventually, but the outline alone is like 4000 words long and I just know this fic will be the longest thing I've written yet, and I'm just... yeah. Eventually, I'll get there :)

And I love Tony Stark because to me, he's the human embodiment of mind over matter. Even when all odds are against him, he finds a way to come out on top, despite his multitude of issues. He always pushes for the perfect solution, reinventing himself time and time again. He has flaws, but he wears them like armor. He has trust issues but is fiercely loyal to his inner circle. He's charming and hilarious in the best possible way. And of course, it doesn't hurt that he's hot as hell.

So yeah, Tony is incredible, and I love him. And I love YOU for asking me these questions, thank you so much <3 I consider myself incredibly lucky to count you among my friends <3

[mejomonster]

Hello there! I saw your tags on my "Why do people keep recommending Dreamwidth as a Tumblr alternative" post, and I wanted to let you know that I actually have a guide to finding new stuff and people on Dreamwidth already written out! It should be relatively recent in my Dreamwidth 101 tag, but I can also dig it up for you if you like. Just maybe not for a while; I'm still catching up with all of the other notes on that post 😂

Thank you for sending this! I just went through your posts tagged dreamwidth, i think i found and liked the post you're talking about regarding how to find people on dreamwidth to chat with. I'll look into it more when i am setting up an account. <3

Ignore the below, its mostly just personal rant. ToT tldr: i think dreamwidth is cool and since i miss livejournal ill probs make an account regardless, but tumblr has some ways of using that just work better for some things i do regularly.

I plan to use dreamwidth eventually. Its just, ahh again like my tags ToT, the benefit of tumblr (over stuff like livejournal dreamwidth ao3) has been being able to easily have casual chats with people with shared interests even if they dont follow me or know how to find me specifically, long chats (unlike twitter), chats we can both save a copy of on our blogs just by reblogging. I do a lot of study blog stuff with sharing study ideas, where the informality of tumblr makes discussions warmer and more open to mentioning experiments and trial error than reddit (which language subreddits expect high quality informative additions mainly) and lets ppl find the discussion posts based on tags (again a bit easier than reddit and much easier for ppl to find then them trying to find Me specifically). And a lot of fandom liveblogging, which twitter is an alright alternative to but 1. Expects real name (and my job marketing i dont really want tied with grammatically messy giggling about some show) 2. Elon musk touching anything i make frankly 3 twitter is shortform so its not really compatible with 4000 word meta posts. Dreamwidth (and blogging sites) are. But then they're not super compatible with 20 other active show watchers finding you the same night theyre liveblogging and you all getting to chat excitedly.

Then as an artist... im glad tumblrs still up. Instagram doesnt encpurage reblogs, has a messed up algorithm, so its not good for new people finding you. Twitter is better with tags connected to public feeds, and reblogging culture, but elon musk is very cool with ai scraping any art posted and hes stolen art before personally anyway so i dont want my art near that. And then sites with no reblogging culture just are not great for spreading art to more people to find you. (I moved to tumblr after the deviantart exodus years ago, and while some ppl moved to twitter later as its also got common reblog usage which helps artists get more visibility, im just not super compatible with twitter ToT). I do wonder if eventually a new social media more artist focused will surface (since after deviantart pulled the "needs premium membership" push and ppl left, nothing really replaced it... tumblr is closest cause personal blogs allow for tagged/ personal blog Pages so you can organize art somewhat, compared to twitter or instagram. But tumblr itself was trying to push away from personal blogs too for a while, so who knows.)

[aceisamazing]

Hey! This isn’t what I would usually post but I thought maybe someone would like this. (ignore the lack of empathy showed by the characters I am autistic and can’t/don’t know how to write empathy becuase I can’t show it)

Here is my Dystopian story I had to write for english (I got 88%) also it’s about 4000 words or 9 pages.

Content warnings! : G0re, d1sm3mberm3nt , Sk1nned Person/body, talk of being locked away in a mental hospital

Comment if you want more stories like this! Enjoy

Salt on the windowsill

“Grandma!” asked a small voice

“Yes my darling?” asked an old, wise voice, it was Grandma Betty.

“Why is there salt around the window sills and at the doors?” asked a small voice

“Well…”

This story starts when I was about 14-15 and our prime minister was Helen Dark. She was an evil person. Every time someone spoke out about her they would go missing and every one would forget about them except me. The first person who went missing was my year 9 maths teacher Miss Screecher. Well she definitely wasn't nice, she would smack rulers at the ends of our tables to scare us, she would scream at us in her horrible scratchy voice “HOW DARE YOU COME IN LATE.” and if you were late you would get locked in her cupboard.

But one day she started going on about how much she hated Helen Darks new rules about going to the eye doctor every 2-3 weeks. She kept yelling about the rules and about how stupid they were and how much she despised them. I was listening to her yell and screech while I sat alone in the cupboard she locked me in.

Until all of a sudden. Two large men in yellow hazmat suits appeared and roughly grabbed both her arms and tied her to the table, then they pulled out a suitcase and opened it inside was A large butcher's knife, a garbage bag, a silver soup spoon and a packet of wipes. Miss Screecher was yelling “LET ME GO!” then they pulled out the butches knife and started hacking off her arms you could hear her bone chilling screams for help and the loud thud her limbs made when each of them fell to the floor, blood poured out from out socket of where each of her legs and arms used to be. The next one held her head back as the other can grabbed the shiny silver soup spoon and put it up too her eye socket and started digging and scooping at her eye after a short period of time the first eye popped out and it was left dangling from her eye socket by the nerves, soon after he plunged the spoon right into her other eye and it went flying across the room and hit the wall.

I was frozen in place, I felt sick and I couldn't move, I was too scared, I was terrified, I couldn't breathe. Then the two men shoved the still alive eyeless and limbless Miss Screecher into the garbage bag they wiped up the blood and blew what looked like tiny shards of glass in each students eyes, except mine they didn't see me because I was still trapped in the closet Miss Screecher locked me in.

“Good morning class! So sorry I'm late, the traffic was horrible!” sung an unfamiliar voice and all the kids were just chatting and laughing? I was so confused on why no one was unfazed or upset about how Miss Screecher was just hacked apart in front of us and taken away.

Maybe it was that dust that they got blown into their eyes? I thought. Then I suddenly remembered I'm still locked in this cupboard so I banged and yelled desperately trying to get the teacher’s attention, finally the new teacher unlocked it. She looked sweet and kind. She had long blonde hair that was tied into a bun and she was wearing a knee length dress with maths symbols on it.

“Oh honey how did you get trapped in there?” she said in a sickly sweet voice as she pulled me out of the cupboard.

“Miss Screecher put me in here!” I said in an obviously scared tone.

“There is no one called Miss Screecher honey, it must have been a bully, stay here I'll be back in a tick!” she said again in her horribly kind tone.

A while later I found myself sitting in the councillors office desperately trying to convince the councillor Miss darlingson that I wasn’t crazy, she was an older lady around her late 5o’s to early 60’s she usually wore a long ankle length skirt and a colourful blouse.

“No no Miss darlingson I promise that what I'm saying is true Miss Screecher got hacked up into pieces by these strange men!” I begged Miss Darlingson to believe me.

“Okay, why don’t I give your mum a ring to come and pick you up?” Said Miss Darlingson as she slipped out of the room and picked up the phone and rang my mother

“This is Lucy Leghorn speaking”

Hello Miss Leghorn, this is Miss darlingson, I have your daughter in my office claiming a teacher got hacked to pieces, she's pretty upset could you come and pick her up please” whispered Miss Darlingson.

“Oh my yes I'll be right there” said my mother she sounded very concerned.

I could hear the whole conversation because Miss Darlingson often forgets to take the phone off speaker.

Miss Darlingson came back into the room “your mother will be here in 30 minutes” she explained.

I nodded my head in response after I stared at the wall. The previous event was flashing through my mind while I tried to make sense of what I saw. Suddenly I felt hot tears streaming down my face then I started to sob loudly.

“Betty, are you okay?” said my mother as she sat down next to me in the office.

“N-no one believes me… no believes what I saw,” I sobbed.

“It's okay honey, come on, let's get you home” my mother comforted me as she helped me into the car and drove me home.

Once we got to out house I climbed into bed went under my covers and hid I stayed like that for three days only coming out to go to the bathroom, my mother brought food to my bedroom otherwise I wouldn't eat and I barely slept because every time I closed my eyes I would have these recurring dreams or visions of Helen Dark telling me “If you tell anyone what you saw you will be next” and behind her in the background where things that i do not wish to say out loud.

After a few months I was feeling better although I definitely will not ever be able to forget what I saw. It was a Wednesday night. I had lost a baby tooth before school the previous morning so I put it in a glass on my nightstand and laid down and went to sleep but I was woken up by the sound of my bedroom window opening. I kept my eyes open enough to see, but it still looked like I was asleep. I saw what I could only describe as a green goblin, about the size of a tea kettle with wings. It was covered in oozing blisters and warts the size of a 50c coin, its rotting teeth were falling out. Then it plunged its green oozing hand into my glass which had my tooth in it and it put the tooth in a pouch. Then it flew away with great effort because of how fat it was compared to its small wings.

“Arghhh” it screamed as it touched my salt rock candle.

Then an idea sparked in my head: what if I sprinkle salt on my window sill and at the entrance of my door and floor vent then it would never be able to come in. so I snuck into the kitchen in the pitch black darkness and grabbed the table salt from the pantry and ran back to my room and sprinkled salt at the front of my door, on my windowsills and around my floor vent also for a little extra protection I pulled my bed away from the wall and sprinkled a ring of salt around it and my nightstand. Once I finished that my mother came into the room because she had been awoken by all the racket.

“Betty, darling, what on earth are you doing?” my mother asked in a very concerned tone.

“I’m protecting my room from the tooth monster!” I said in a very serious tone.

My mother told me to go back to sleep and we will talk about this in the morning but I knew she thought I was crazy, I knew she didn’t believe me, I knew for sure she was gonna have me locked up.

Once I woke up in the morning my mother was waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Betty come down to the kitchen please,” she said but something sounded off about her. She didn’t sound quiet just like her.

“No! You have to come to my room and step past the salt" I yelled in fear that Helen Dark or one of her minions could be impersonating my mother.

“Okay then,” she yelled back and I heard her getting closer as footsteps echoed in the hallway louder and louder until she was standing at my door.

I let out a sigh of relief as I realised it was my mother but I had to do one more test just to be sure.

“Touch the salt ring,” I demanded.

“Isn’t that a little unnecessary Betty?” my mother asked

“No, you need to do it to prove to me that you aren't one of them,” I replied in a stern and serious tone

“Okay then,” my mother replied as she bent over and placed her whole hand on the ring of salt.

“Now show me your hand,” I demanded, my mother outstretched her hand and I gasped as her hand had broken out in giant oozing blisters and the skin from her very hand was falling off in chunks onto the floor right outside my bedroom. Then she grabbed her forehead and peeled off her skin to reveal a horrid creature. It was a snake-like creature with human skin, two smiles, one with human teeth and one beneath which was just a thin closed mouth smile and soulless hollow eye sockets. It started hovering above the ground and clawing at the door frame desperately trying to break into the room.

“Come on Betty… LET ME IN” the monster screeched.

“NO!” I screamed as I ran and grabbed the salt container off my night stand and desperately threw the whole contents of the container on to the horrid beast.

“AHHHH,” it hissed and screamed as it slowly started melting away into a pile of mushy flesh and teeth on the ground. I fell to my knees as I started sobbing. I was so glad that I had killed at least one of these things. Then the realisation hit me, where is my real mother? So I ran into my mothers room and there laying on my bed was the skinned corpse of my mother. Her organs, muscles, nerves and bones were showing. I could see all the squishy and raw flesh that was once encased in her skin but now was raw and exposed. There was blood dripping from my mothers corpse. It was seeping into her bed sheets and pillow. It was dripping down the bed and leaking into the carpet making it a dark grey as its previous colour was a light grey.

“Mummy… no no please this can’t be real,” I cried as I climbed into bed with my mothers corpse hugging onto her, As blood transferred from her lifeless skinned body onto my red tear filled face, blood was also seeping into my baby blue cotton pyjamas making them turn a dark blue colour.

I snapped my eyes open and I found myself still in bed with my lifeless mothers body, but this time I didn't cry. I didn't feel anything. I was numb. I climbed out of the bed and made my way to the bathroom where I took a long hot shower scrubbing all the blood off my body. After I made my way to the garden shed where we kept the shovel, I then proceeded to dig a hole big enough to fit my mothers body. I then placed a blanket beside the bed on the floor. I then rolled her off the bed onto the blanket. She made a surprisingly loud thump as her stiff, cold and breathless body slammed onto the blood soaked carpet. I folded the blanket up and dragged her outside and through the grass to the 6ft deep hole I had dug for her.Then again I rolled her until she fell into the hole as she made a squelch when she landed because the rain moistened the ground and made it muddy and very slippery.

I made my way inside slowly, I thought about all the good times I had with my mother. I thought about how kind she was, how she always let me braid her long brown hair. I grabbed a armfull of firewood as I was coming inside, I kneeled down and placed the firewood down in a tower style with gaps to place some paper as a fire starter. I then grabbed a match and struck it hard against the side of the match box and a flame erupted from the end of the match. It was hot. I quickly dropped it into the fireplace and slowly but surely the paper started to catch on fire and next thing i knew i had myself a nice warm fire. I sat down and soaked in all the heat I could. I was cold from the rain outside and the lack of heat in the house.

I was becoming paranoid, every shadow I saw I was convinced was another one of those horrible and terrifying creatures and I was next on their list of victims to skin and impersonate. I was scared that it was going to find out where my best friend Abby lived and it was going to skin her and leave her skinned, bloody, cold and lifeless body for me to find, I was sure Helen Dark was coming for me at anytime she was going to appear and slaughter me either in my sleep or when I was conscious. I one hundred percent did not want to end up like my mother or Miss Screecher. I needed to go find Abby before they did.

I ran out my front door barefoot onto the street, the asphalt was slippery and wet, the rain was cold and harsh on the bare arms. My feet stung from the cold as I sprinted down the road desperately trying to get to my best friend's house as fast as humanly possible.

After 10 minutes of running and speed walking I finally saw Abby’s house. The lights were Off which was unusual. It was a Saturday at 10:30 am. I cautiously approached the front door and knocked three times.

“Hello? Abby, are you there?” I yelled.

Then I heard crying very loud and distraught. I tried opening the door and it was unlocked so I very carefully stepped inside. I started searching where the crying was coming from and as I set foot into Abby’s dining room I found a horrific scene Abby was hunched over on the floor clutching her left arm.

“A…Abby are you okay?” I ask with great concern.

“She cut off my arm!” Abby wailed as she turned around to face me and I saw from her elbow down Abby’s arm was hacked off, there was blood pouring out from the gaping wound. Underneath Abby was a ginormous pool of blood.

“Who did this to you?” I asked and I knelt down with her and used her jacket as a tourniquet.

“Some tall scary woman she kind of looked like…Helen Dark” she told me as she whispered the last part.

As soon as I got Abby all cleaned up as best I could and sewed her arm shut with a sewing kit we found in the closet, I asked her.

“Where is your mum?”

“I don’t know, I haven't seen her since that woman showed up” Abby said, her voice shaking from pain.

“How about your dad?” I asked hoping to get a good answer

“Same thing he’s been missing since the lady showed up” Abby explained again

Then a great idea sparked in my head, I needed to google “how to summon skin snakes”. The only thing that came up was a strange looking website so I clicked on it and all it had was short instructions and a list on the list was. Table salt, and two candles. The instructions were to sprinkle the table salt into two rings one small and a bigger one around it, then place the two candles one on the top of the bigger circle and one on the bottom of the little circle.

So I rushed into Abby’s kitchen and quickly grabbed the table salt. Next I took two candles from the bathroom and a lighter from the fireplace shelf.

“Okay, Abby help me make the two circles of salt” I said as I started making the first circle while Abby made the second. While Abby was finishing up the last circle I got to work placing and lighting the candles. We both stepped back as all the lights started to flicker and a whirlpool of air formed in the middle of the two circles.

“WHO DARES TO SUMMON ME!” screeched a voice then a skin snake appeared out of the air.

“I want you to take me to your boss Helen Dark!” I demand in a somewhat confident tone.

“YOU WANT TO SEE MY BOSS YOU SAY? WELL I CAN TAKE YOU THERE IF YOU GIVE ME A HUMAN SACRIFICE” screamed the monster as a cruel smile ran across its face.

“Okay,” I agree but I am not sure where to find a human sacrifice. We walk around the street desperately looking for a sacrifice then I find it a perfect candidate. A lonely old lady was just standing outside watering her flowers so Abby and I snuck up behind her and I raised my first to give her a hard smack to the back of her head. The old lady crumples to the floor.

“Quickly Abby grabs her legs,” I sternly say as I grab her arms and we quickly drag her back to Abby’s house. It was a struggle though because she was quite heavy. Once we got back inside I heard the creature.

“I SMELL A HUMAN SACRIFICE,” it yelled it in a horrible scratchy voice

“We have what you asked for, now take us to your boss!” I demand

“JOIN ME IN THE CIRCLE” yelled the beast.

Abby and I jumped into the circle where we were met by a horrible rotten smell and started spinning faster and faster till we both lost consciousness.

My eyes snapped open as I was awoken by loud screaming.

“AHHHH IT HURTS PLEASE LET ME GO,” screamed a voice they sounded like they were in tremendous pain. I slowly stood up, Abby was no were to be seen so I followed the screaming. The floor was slippery and mushy, I looked down and I saw the floor was made up of bits of human flesh, bones, and mud. I turned the corner and I saw a horrible scene. There was my teacher Miss Screecher hanging by the back of her neck in a butcher's hook, her arms and legs were still missing and now she just looked like a stump of a human with no hope or happiness left.

“Miss Screecher?” I asked in a concerned voice.

“Who is that?” she said her voice just above a whisper and she sounded weak.

When I turned around I found more body parts. This time there were buckets of them labelled arms, legs, eyes and heads and in each was a sick collection of bloody and banged up body parts. None of them looked like they came off easy.

“Hello Betty.”Said a blunt voice.

“Who are you?” I said as I turned around to see Helen Dark.

“Oh you know who I am, I heard you needed to see me?” Helen said in an evil tone.

“Yes I need you to stop I need you to go back to where you belong,” I hopefully demanded

“Oh if only it was that easy,” Helen trailed off. “Well tell you what if you can get to the heart of my nest and kill all of my eggs I'll go away for good,” an evil smile appeared on her face.

I gave her a nod as she disappeared. Now somehow I had to find my way to the heart of this place, I started by grabbing a carving knife I found by the body parts and I set off. It felt like I had been walking for hours until I came across my first enemy, a skin snake but this time I had no salt, only the knife I had in my hand. So I crouched down and tried to sneak up behind it but I saw me so I just stabbed it right in the face repeatedly until this black liquid started oozing out of its wounds. The liquid was thick like honey but smelt like death, the skin snake fell to the floor. I had finally killed my first monster down here.

After countless hours and so many monsters I finally made it to the heart of the nest. I saw so many of what I think were eggs but they were the size of a soccer ball and there were about three dozen of them. I started slicing them open one by one and killing whatever animal or monster that was inside but as I got to the last one Helen appeared.

“You really thought I would just leave that easy?” she said as she let out a big loud laugh. I scowled as I knew what I now had to do so I charged at her with my knife in hand and got in a few stabs before she broke free. She ran at me scratching me with her claws but then I grabbed a hold of her hands and cut them off. They surprisingly cut off super easy.

“Ahh you stupid child” she yelled in pain.

I then kicked her down while she was clutching her handless arms and stabbed her right in the top of the head. The same black death liquid oozed out of the wound in her head. I could now see inside of her head there was only the black goo no brain nothing.Then she exploded into a big beam of light.

“Jump in child you are safe now.” said a kind sounding voice.

I reluctantly went in, the bright light blinded me but I kept walking until I appeared back in my house but everything was fixed except my mother and best friend were nowhere to be found. So I tried to get on with life but some days I still see them all in my dreams including Helen Dark, so that is why there is always salt on my window sill.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Brother

Tw: heavy incest, definitely yandere, age gap, stalking, sexual content, feelsbad parental trauma, infantilization, AFAB fem reader, A Lot Of Words (abt 4000+)

Self indulgent post. Feeling pretty down right now, just need someone 2 coddle me. This doesn't belong to any fandom or whatever. It is just general ramblings about an older brother who seems to love you a little too much.

Don't take this post too seriously. Just enjoy it as a fictional fantasy.

pt 1 out of 2 3

Click here for part 2

Ever went batshit insane on your sibling? Cause they took that last popsicle stick you were saving for later, or cause they stole your charger? Living with a sibling for so long bound to breed some conflict, especially if your parents clearly favor one of you against the other.

"You got shit grades? Why can't you be like your smarter older brother? No phone for a week."

"I don't care if it's your birthday present or something you bought with your hard earned money, share your laptop with your little sister. Don't be selfish. What's yours is ours too."

"No, you can't go out with your friends. You have to stay home and look after your younger siblings. That's your responsibility, you're their older sibling. Don't be such an irresponsible piece of shit."

"What? You want new clothes? Why? Don't waste money, just wear your big Sister's clothes."

"Give your stuffed toy to your little brother. You're too old to be having that."

The worst types are those who would use your parents blatant favoritism against you on top of already being the better child. Smugly smirking at you as you get berated by your parents for something THEY did. Your parents won't believe you as you're the worthless one.

Maybe even bully you in school and sabotage every good thing that happens in your life. Like stealing your significant other, ruining your chances of getting a scholarship, spreading nasty rumors about you...

When you have that variant of an asshole sibling, its time to cut them off.

But imagine. An older brother that shines so brightly, making you look so dim in comparison.

He works hard, gets an A plus-plus for every single subject. Excel in every extra curriculum including but NOT limited to: piano, violin, cooking, karate, swimming, basketball, painting and chess. Extremely popular in school, all the girls want him and all the boys wanna be him. Teachers has the utmost respect and love for him, some even swoon at the thought of your big brother.

He is so handsome and well built, absolutely far beyond the image you can ever hope to achieve. Kind, charming and manipulative a joy to be around too. What an Adonis, he is.

Your older brother is everything you are not. The yang to your yin, except he took that white circle from your yin and made you completely pitch black.

It is natural, everyone would either compare between the both of you or don't remember that you exist. Always thinking your big brother is an only child and you're... Just there. Out of place.

You must be an accident, an unwanted child that was produced from a night of passionate carelessness by your parents.

However, your big brother isn't doing all these just to spite you or snatch all your parent's love and attention.

It is all for you.

Never did he once call you by any derogatory names, your big brother would only call you by an affectionate nickname or an endearment such as 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'my love', 'dear' and many more.

Which creeped you out. Your parents think nothing of it, it's just some brotherly love, right?

Yeah, the running of his slender fingers through your hair, hours of cuddling on the couch, kisses given to your forehead, cheek, neck, shoulder, knuckles and temples, brushing strands of your hair away from your face, excessive fixing of your clothes on you, frequent hugs from your back while you're fixing a bowl of cereal for yourself, sensual caressing of your cheek and thigh, the arm permanently wrapped around your waist and him being the big spoon in bed are all fucking platonic, alright.

Your parents love how he would never complain if they made him take care of you while they fuck off to do whatever things romantic couples do.

He is an outstanding chef, only cooking the things you like perfectly, just how you like it. He has no regard to his own or even your parent's preference in food. As long as you're happily and healthily eating, he's fine.

The last piece of cake is always for you, no matter how delicious it was. His fries? You want it? All yours. Your favorite pizza that happens to also be your parents' favs? Back off, mom and dad, you are a growing girl. You need your nutrients, hence you get the last slice. Hell, you even get to eat his slice if you want to.

He wouldn't touch anything of yours in the fridge, but you are free to eat whatever you want that are his. He genuinely doesn't care if you ate the last scoop of chocolate ice cream he was thinking about for the entire day. He doesn't give a crap if you ate all the snacks he bought with his own allowance. He bought them with the thought of you in his mind.

Why else do you think all the food he buys are only foods that you specifically like and very rarely the foods that he or your parents like?

If he comes back with a paper bag of takeaway, it's yours. No question about it. Even if he is sipping on a smoothie, you're always welcome to take a sip... Or finish the rest of it. Do you want another one? Big brother can always buy a bigger cup for you. Are you hungry? Want big brother to buy you a burger? No? Are you sure?

You tried being a good little sister by giving back. Never again.

You got your big brother an energy bar from a nearby convenience store once. Gave it to him before a field trip into the wilderness. He was over the moon, singing praises up and down for a whole fucking week and his doting on you increased tenfold. It was suffocating.

But... Not bad of a deal. An energy bar for a brand new Ipad he got you by breaking his piggy bank. Though, you wouldn't want to go through his lovesick fever again, so that was the last time you're doing anything remotely nice to him with your own will.

Your big brother will gas you up. He supports you in whatever you want to do as long as it won't hurt you or separate the both of you in the long run. That means, no drugs, no cigarettes, no parties, no sleepovers and no boyfriends. Or boy, friends.

If you're attracted to girls too, don't let him know for the sake of your social life.

Other than that, you want to pursue your dreams of being an artist? Big brother will support you from behind, guiding your hand that's holding the brush. He took years and years of art classes and he was the best of all, isn't that such a nice privilege?

Want to be a famous sports player? Sure! Big brother will correct your form and tend to any injuries lovingly, always making sure to give you a sweet kiss on it.

Oh, you want to be a best-selling author? Big brother has contacts, you know. All you have to do is just ask and maybe return the favor with a kiss.

An... Internet influencer? An actress? An international celebrity? He's a little hesitant on that one. Big brother will make sure to educate you on the dangers and demands of the entertainment. Frame it in such a way that it scares you off, look at what it has done to one of big brother's classmate. She took her own life because of the stress and injustice! Big brother says to stay away from it.

Unless you're hiding behind a fake identity.

But... Parents aren't as supportive? Wants you to excel in your studies just like big brother? They're seeing you as a lesser being than your older brother?! This is a travesty!

Whenever they make rude remarks about your performance at school, big brother always has your back, he is going to stick up for you and yell at them despite knowing he would get some flak later.

However, it doesn't mean big brother will neglect your academic needs. He will gladly pull you up the ranks and beat even the highest overachiever in your school. If that is what you want.

The thing about your older brother is, he is only supportive of you for things that YOU want (and things he considered 'safe'). No, he knows that you don't want to be a surgeon, this sudden declaration means nothing to him because he knows it was a product of your parents or peers pressuring you. He won't hear it. He will only tend to things YOU want. It is YOUR world and everyone is just living on it.

Regardless, Your big brother would patiently tutor you and help with any homework. With one condition, you sit on his warm lap the whole time. No, he won't yell. He won't get frustrated. Your big brother won't give up on you. You and him will work it through, together.

Let's say, you came back home with a big C- scrawled on your corrected exam paper. Your parents are indifferent. Family friends are secretly mocking you behind everyone's backs. Your teachers can only shake their heads at your grade.

But Big Brother... He would welcome you home with a warm hug, pick you up and twirl you around as he coos about how proud he is of you. It is an improvement from your D+ before, he is so glad to see your grades go up. Your older brother would kiss you on the forehead and tell you that you did a great job, he would tell you to relax as he makes you a warm, hearty meal as one of your many rewards.

It doesn't matter if your grades dropped instead. You could come home crying with a massive, fat "F" on your paper and he would still envelope you securely in his strong arms. Mumbling that it is okay to fail, you can always get back up and try again. He would repeatedly assure that he would love you and your 'F's will change nothing. He is proud of you nonetheless, you're always going to be his beloved little sister.

Big brother tries not to leave you alone with your parents if you come home with a failing grade. They're only going to make you feel terrible, like a moron. Whereas you're not, you're your big brother's darling angel who deserves the utmost respect and love.

Any passive-aggressiveness from your mom would be met with an angry scowl and an aggressively hurtful remark about an insecurity of hers. Big brother does not give a shit if his venomous insults were low blows that leaves your mom awake in anguish for many nights, she hurt his precious baby sister.

Any disapproving scolding from your father will lead to a yelling match between him and his golden son. Sometimes if big brother deems your dad's words to be crossing over the line, a fistfight might just break out. Big brother would always be the victor because he is simply too strong and large.

Or maybe its because your parents do not want to lose such trophy of a son. The only thing which makes them better than all your family friends and your parent's colleagues.

Your parents do get compliments about how your brother gets along very well with you.

Relatives and other adults found it strange yet adorable that the both of you never had any sibling rivalry. Your big brother would always treat you like a princess and give you the best toys, the best candies and the best gadgets. Any appropriate gifts addressed to him goes straight to you. Constantly spoiling you rotten.

They didn't like how he was super overprotective of you, though. He wouldn't let anyone carry you, only HE gets to hold you. Your big brother simply doesn't trust your safety and comfort with anyone else, he is even wary about the abilities of your parents. He was like a feral guard dog with exemplary parenting skills, skills better than actual parents.

He is the type to wrap his coat around you because HE feels cold.

You wish that you had a bit more freedom. Because of your possessive older brother, your relationship with your cousins is close to nonexistent. You missed out playing fun games with them, you missed out slumber parties, you missed out knowing what "going for a walk with the cousins" on Thanksgiving means.

No one dares to interact with you. Your older brother would surely have something up his sleeves to blackmail them with. You're always seen with him, either in his lap or in his arms. He is also either seen spoon feeding you or tilting your sippy cup against your lips or playing with you and your toys. He stopped doing most of that when you turned 8... Because you had a very public mental breakdown due to the humiliation of being treated like a helpless toddler.

Big brother still haven't broken the habit of gathering your food for you and pouring your drinks, though. It hurts him to see you grow up, but everyone must move on.

You were unfortunate enough to be in the same school as your big brother for a few years. The school you went to is fucked up enough to cram elementary, middle and high schoolers all together in one compound but different buildings.

The age gap of 10 years would mean that, when you're 5, he would be 15 learning about the mitochondria, powerhouse of the cell. Big brother dart out of class whenever it is break time or lunch time to seek you out. He would bring you away and make you sit on his lap as he chats with his friends.

If you want his attention, he would gladly give you ALL of it. Which... Kind of made his friends jealous of five year old you. They won't say anything about it because it's ridiculous and your brother is too hot and popular for them to do anything bad.

You get what those glares mean. So you try your best not to distract your older brother during lunch breaks, quietly eating away at your lunch (and his own if you're still hungry).

All your big brother's friends know about you. Because that is literally all he talks about. Endless praise and no criticism at all. He shows off your drawings to his friends and made them hype you up as well.

They know he can get a little... Unhinged at times when it comes to his love for you. But they knew not to question it, their reputation depends on his mood!

The easiest way to make him like you (if you are his classmate instead) is either to compliment you or give you something you like. But be careful, you don't want to give the wrong idea that you are a rival for his baby's attention.

You were bullied by your peers once in elementary school. You came crying and bruised to your older brother, he comforted you by gently kissing the pain away as he coos sweet nothings. He promised that he will fix everything as he offered you the candy bar someone gave him as a love confession. (of course, he declined politely)

And he did, he solved it. You don't know what happened to your bullies but they came to school, scared shitless upon seeing you. A week later, they were all gone. Your teacher telling the class that these kids' families had to move to another away for something. One was due to 'work', one was because of 'family matters'... It was left vague.

You knew your big brother had something to do with it, but... What could he have done to scare their families to flee the state? He was only a teen!

The both of you had respective bedrooms, but your big brother is constantly stationed in yours, that his room becomes a museum of your creations a library for his textbooks. He still kept that crayon drawing you made of a flower when you were four.

Unlike your parents, he had never dismissed your fear of monsters under the bed as something silly. He instead cupped your cheeks and pressed foreheads, promising that he would always protect you. To ease your worries, he would do routine checks in your closet and under your bed.

He would always offer to sleep with you. He's always the big spoon.

But there was a point in your childhood that you would continuously turn him down. Because you're a 'big girl' and you can face your imaginary monsters by yourself. Your big brother would just stare in shock before smiling, he can see that you're still scared. Tucking you in and kissing you good night is always a must, stroking your hair and singing a lullaby to ease your trembling self to sleep.

You would wake up and find him holding you close to him anyways.

You had always felt safe in his arms, but as you grew older, you felt that it was... weird.

As you reach your preteen years, you yearn for privacy. You wish that your brother would leave you alone to scroll mindlessly at your social media app. Instead, he would snuggle himself up against you and watch whatever you're watching. It's stressful because he would steer you away from anything 'inappropriate' for you. He would comment on everything that appears on your screen, to try to teach you the obvious. Yes, you get it. The t-rex chasing those teens aren't real, they're just CGI.

Texting your friends is hard too. He can see everything, you had to warn them beforehand.

He went absolutely ballistic when one of your friends sent you a five second GIF of animated breasts floundering about. The said friend suspiciously had to leave the state.

Speaking of friends, he only allows interactions between girls. But even so, he does more research than the FBI on them. He knows and remembers the lineage of each and every one of them, their contacts, their parents' infidelity Family Matters, their history from the very beginning and especially their personality.

No, he doesn't care if you and your friends are 5 or 18, they're all getting a thorough background check. It's for your own good.

You managed to get over your fear of the night because your desire for privacy was more intense. The only way you could browse the net without him breathing down your neck is by staying up at night. After tucking you in and accompanying you until you're asleep, he would go back to his own room to work on his university assignments. Lucky bastard received a scholarship from a prestigious university 30 minutes away from home.

It took you a while to master the art of deception. After a few nights of accidentally falling asleep and many weeks of getting caught faking it as he watches you, you managed to fool him.

But not for long, no matter how faint your eyebags were, he knew what you were doing. So your brother fucking grounded you. Your brother, and not your parents. Your big brother took away your gadgets and began sleeping in your room again.

Of course, this was one of the very few rare times he got upset with you. It is not a good feeling, you cried which secretly tugged at his heartstrings. However, he has to be firm because he loves you but you crossed his boundaries.

Your parents would rarely have any idea what your big brother is doing to you. As long as you seem normal and he's not becoming a 'disgrace', they won't care.

Your grounding continued on until he graduated and found a place to live on his own. During your punishment, your friendships deteriorated because there were no other way to contact your friends. You get to speak of this insanity to them only at school.

During which, big brother would keep you entertained by getting you dolls, do arts n' crafts with you, make homemade slime, story telling, instrument playing and generally live like a kid in the 70's.

Sometimes he would hand you his phone, which a picture of you as his lock and home screen wallpaper. You were allowed to play 'age appropriate' games which he installed in it when he's too busy to play with you.

Every other app was protected with a password EXCEPT:

His photo gallery.

Being the curious little girl you are, you decided to check it out.

Only to be met with thousands upon thousands of pictures and videos of you. There were selfies of himself alone and with his friends scattered around here and there. Maybe some pictures of his university stuff too, but the sheer number of media about you is horrifying.

Yeah, curiosity creeped the cat out. You're not going back there again.

He tried getting your parents to agree with his plan of adopting you and letting you live with him after he got a job and a cozy apartment. Your brother even prepared a presentation slideshow and everything, proving that he could provide for you much better than your parents can.

Of course your parents said no, because, what the fuck?

As a result, he cussed them out. Your dad and your brother got into a physical altercation which gave your dad a broken nose, broken arm and a black eye. Your brother walked away only with a few bruises and a cut under his right eye, he brought you back to his apartment and whipped up your favorite comfort food while your father was admitted into the hospital.

They were upset about it for a while but decided to not hold a grudge or press any charges to keep this incident under wraps. As a peace offering, you get to stay over his place on Fridays and weekends. You don't have a say in this matter.

But hey, you get way more privacy than before. But your older brother moving out doesn't stop him from popping in randomly to shower you with love and maybe start another fight with your old man.

Your big brother began earning a lot of money. His starting salary is so fucking high, you can't even comprehend how it is possible for him to get it at that age. Hell, you don't even know what he works as. He's rarely busy!

You thought it was hell. Your brother would send you to high school and pick you up almost every day. Sometimes he has no choice but to send mom and dad to do it, thanks to his job that you still have no clue what it is about.

Just like how it was in middle school, your older brother sends you off with a kiss on the forehead on good days. A kiss on the neck on bad days. You would bring your own lunch packed by him, still warm and fresh because it was made with love and care.

Your brother has a youthful look to him. Making a lot of people think he is your hot, older boyfriend. Which... Makes you shiver in a mix of disgust, shame and anger. The look of pure surprise on your friends' face when you tell them the truth is something that would haunt at 3am.

You dread the days where he didn't pack any lunch for you. That means he would purposely drop by and hand you your favorite fast food takeaway. It almost always would come with a bouquet of flowers for you and leave after giving you a kiss.

To your friends, they're familiar with this creepy behavior and understood the context behind it.

To others? Aww, how romantic. That's so cool, you have a rich boyfriend!

Makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Your older brother with his newfound wealth would spoil you a lot more. He obviously saves up for your college fund too, but he has so much disposable income that he gets you give you as much as a thousand dollars as "pocket money". You get to use his credit card as much as you want, go nuts on the online shopping, get as many cute but useless kitchen gadgets as you want.

He is at your beck and call, your big brother is like your chauffeur, wherever you want to go, he will bring you. As long as it isn't anywhere near the sketchiest parts in town.

During summer holidays, he would book plane tickets for the both of you. Just tell him where you want to have your vacation, he will take care of everything. Be it Korea, Indonesia, Thailand, Switzerland Disneyland-- No price seems to be too high for him, no place seems too far for him.

Your parents aren't invited, though. Which leads to another major fight between him and them.

(click here for Part 2)

[silly-thinkings]

The cursed stone~ Pt. 3

Part 3 of my Batmom series! please enjoy!  4000+ words  Edit: Idk how to add the read more text so i am super very sorry for the scrolling. 

Part 1 // Part 2   Part 3 // Part 4

Day 1 The four boys dressed in casual attire while sitting in the car. Dick had driven to the cafe to see if Y/N actually does remember them. Tim suggested doing such since she was in the blast as well.

Dick parked the car and looked outside "ready?" He asked his brothers

Jason adjusted his hair, Tim tapped a few things on his phone and Damian looked out the window. "No paparazzi."

Dick nodded. They all got out of the car and made their way inside. The soft chime of the bell gained most people's attention.

"No way."

"It's the Wayne boys"

"Why are they here?"

"Think I can get a picture?"

Damian rolled his eyes as he sat in one of the booths towards the back of the establishment with his brothers following his lead.

They all opened the menu.

"Where ma?" Jason asked

"I saw her walk in the back room" Damian answered.

"Oh! They have cream puffs." Tim said with a smile. Everyone looked at him unamused. "S-sorry."

Dick put the menu down "remember everyone. We're only here to see if she recognizes us. Don't say anything weird." He said looking at Jason and Tim.

Damian put down the menu "here she comes."

The boys watched Y/N by the kitchen entrance fixing your hair. Tim noticed a bruise on your wrist before you adjusted the sleeve. As you walked closer he remembered that Y/N wasn't much of a makeup person. So when you finally made it to the table he couldn't help but notice the extra foundation on certain parts.

"Hello~ my name is Y/N. I'll be your server for today. What... can I ...get you?" her words trailed off. They all stared at her. Damian wanted to hug her and never let go. Even though the fight was recent, he felt like he hadn't seen her in years.

"I-I'm sorry. I was staring. You four feel...familiar to me. Have we met?" you brought your hand up to your cheek.

"Not in this lifetime" Jason let out an awkward chuckle. They all placed their drink orders then handed her the menu.

You took them and smiled "I'll be with you all shortly. If you need anything just raise your hand.

"You paused briefly and stared at Damian. Then at the rest of them. A tear slowly fell from your eye.

"Ma? You ok?" Jason said but quickly stumbled over his words

"Ma?" you question, wiping a tear away quickly. Hoping it didn't ruin the makeup

“Ma... my... My you have such a wonderful establishment. How long have you been working here?" Jason asked, resting his head on his hand. Giving her a cheeky smile.

Dick looked at Tim who nodded and pulled out his phone. Taking a note of what had just happened.

"Oh. A couple of years now." you lean down "but I much rather be anywhere else" you giggled to yourself before finally leaving.

"Y/N! Get over here now."

You let out a sigh "sorry about the manager, he can be a bit cranky when he doesn't get his fix of coffee. I'll see you in a bit."

You winked before walking away leaving the boys alone. Damian was the first to break the silence. "She cried..."

Tim looked up from his phone "but she didn't remember us. She also wore too much makeup around her left eye." He pointed to his wrist "not to mention that bruise."

Dick closed his eyes deep in thought trying to calm down. Jason's ears were red with anger "Someone puttin their hands on Ma? I'll kill them."

"Calm down idiot. that is not the focus right now." Damian retorted. Everyone could tell that he was just as furious, with the way he balled his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Dick let out a sigh "Maybe the crying was a muscle memory thing." He rested his head on his hand.

The boys continued to throw theories in the air. Damian noticed a blond boy next to Y/N helping her carry the trays of food and drinks as they made their way over to him and his brothers.

"Who is that? Next to mother?"

Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned their heads "No idea." Tim shrugged bringing his attention back to his phone. Dick felt his head throb. The sudden pain caught him off guard. Y/N smiled While the two expertly placed their orders down on the table. Perfectly synchronized.

"Dr. Pep for you jay. And here's a burger~ normally we don't make those but the chef owes me." Jason looked down at the burger, then back at his brothers.

"Tim, here's your coffee with extra espresso and some cream puffs. Dickie here's a BLT. And here's a cupcake for you Dami~ it's fresh. Oh! With your juice box of course."

The boys all stared at her in shock and awe. She called them by their nicknames. You blinked, stunned with the words that came out of her mouth "I'm sorry... I don't know where I got those names from." You shook your head "Anyway... the foods on me yea? You guys seem like you've been through a lot." You gave them one last smile before putting an arm around the boy beside you "I have some other tables that need my attention, so He'll take over for me. So sorry" you pinched the blond's cheek and adjusted his hair before leaving to attend the other tables.

 The teen looked at them with an eyebrow raised. He took a chair from another table and turned it towards them sitting down "so? There a reason why one of the Wayne's called my mother Ma?

Damian placed his juice box down and closed his eyes "Todd was just surprised. She looks like our mother."

"Aren't you all adopted?" The teenager pulled out a lollipop from his pocket and placed it in his mouth. "So who's mom did she look like? is it yours" He asked, pointing the lollipop at Damian.

Annoyed, Damian finally opened his eyes "Aren't you supposed to serve us? Why are you asking stupid questions you hindrance?"

"Damian" Dick glared at his youngest brother before turning his attention to the blond "sorry about that. He doesn't mean anything by it."

The blond teen smirked "right. And I own the daily planet." He stood from his seat, side-eyeing them "imma give it 30 minutes before the front starts to swarm with people. When you're done I'll show you to the back."

Jason watched the teen enter the kitchen. He wore simple jeans and a black T-Shirt with the Cafe's apron on "That was... awkward"

Tim took a sip from his coffee "w-wow this coffee, it's just like how mom made it back at home."

Dick noticed the BLT cut diagonally into two triangles. He remembered her doing that a lot for him when he was younger. After 30 minutes The door outside began to crowd with people. Paparazzi, news journalists, random fans all formed at the door to get a good look at them eating.

"Sheesh. he was right."Jason said, taking the last bite out of his burger. **

** The boys finally arrived at the manor. After an eventful afternoon lunch, they left a large tip before leaving. Alfred was the one to greet them first. "Welcome back. How was your day?" He asked, taking Dick's coat and keys.

Damian let out a sigh "I will be going to my quarters. Please do not disturb me." he moved to the side and made his way to his room, feeling defeated.

Alfred took note of his darkened mood but chose not to mention anything. Tim gave Alfred a big smile "we had an amazing lunch! Most definitely recommend this little cafe."

Jason scoffed "aside from the snotty-nosed brat. It was alright. How old was he anyway?

Dick shrugged, "is Bruce home?"

"Master Bruce is in the cave getting ready to leave"

"He's suiting up? Where is he going?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I believe he is investigating a high mobster jazz club tonight. They've been very active lately."

"Jazz!"

"Mob?!"

"Club!"

The three look at each other then back at Alfred.

"I assume you boys are interested in the mission?" the butler asked with a smile.

Batman stood in front of his many monitors mapping out the establishment. On the side of the screen, we're coded emails that Gordon forwarded to him. Tonight's mission was not only to confirm some of the information about what they are planning but to find the person who's been sending the GCPD info. He pulled up live camera footage of the club and watched the employees and guests interact with each other.

"So B. Who are we fuckin up today" Jason received a slap on the back of his head from his older brother making him grumble.

"We?" Batman turned around to see his three sons suited up and ready to go. He raised an eyebrow.

Dick cleared his throat "Alfred informed us that you're scouting somewhere. We want to help."

"And Damian?"

"Not feeling well." Tim chuckled nervously. Jason's eyes widened as he looked past Bruce and onto the screen. "W-wow, and she told us she didn't have style."

Everyone turned to the screen to see a woman walk out of the passenger seat of a black van wearing a long back/gold dress. She wore a matching mask only covering her eyes, And held a fan. covering the rest of her face. Bruce looked at his sons, then back to the screen. He zoomed in on the image "you boys know her?"

"Yea... we saw her earlier today. I didn't think she would be working with criminals." Dick said in shock.

"So this is the person you were asking me about this morning, Jason." Batman said not taking his eyes off of the rest of them. Jason slowly nodded his head.

** Damian opened the doors to his room and looked around. Everything in the room was the same as it was. He walked over to his bed and flipped the pillow. He picked up a picture of him smiling wide holding onto five awards that he received from school. But it was only him.

The original picture had Y/N not looking at the camera but at him with a proud smile on her face.

Damian felt his eyes burn. He quickly closed his eyes and shook his head, doing everything he could to prevent the wave of tears. Before he knew it, he was on his bed crying his eyes out.

Alfred stood outside about to knock on the door until he heard the sniffles from the boy. He knew Damian well enough that if he were to go in now he would be completely shut out. Alfred lowered his hand and walked away from the door "This Y/N must be very important if master Damian is like this."

You smiled at the many cameras pointing at you. "Can't wait for tonight's performance." A man said, taking your hand in his. "The band and I have plenty of songs planned so that you all have a relaxing experience during your stay." you said with a grin.

You felt a light pinch on her side, she turned her head slightly to see her boss nudge his head towards the door. You focused your attention ahead and walked forward, expertly ignoring the catcalls and flashes from cameras.

You finally made it backstage and let out a sigh

"well if it isn't the star of the show~" Said one of the showgirls who applied the last touches on her makeup.

"Fashionably late, as per usual" another one said grinning.

you chuckled as you made your way to the Vanity table "oh stop it you two. It's not like I want to show up late. Boss took the long route tonight, And I needed to help My son with some things."

"H-he didn't do anything to ya right? The boss?" one of the girls asked.

"Of course not. Boss or not, if anyone tries to get their slimy hands on me or my kid they'll be getting a beating." you crossed your legs and let out a huff as you adjusted the mask.

The two showgirls giggled at their friend's sass.

"Ladies please stop messing around. make sure your mask is secure. Apparently, we've attracted more people tonight. I don't want our identities to be found out."

"Yes mooom" they teased in unison as they went to their respective tables.

"Yea mom. I'll be careful" "Ma please. It's just a scratch."  "Alright Mom, this'll be my last cup."  " 'TT' very well Ummi"  You gasped, slowly placing a hand on your face, pinching your cheek.

Ever since you woke up this morning you felt like you were missing something. Like you weren't where you were supposed to be. Now you're hearing voices in your head. Familiar voices.

"Y/N! Snap out of it."

You brought your attention at the two women who looked worried "you good? It's time to break a leg."

You blinked a bit in surprise "Yes yes, I'm fine. Let's go" You shook your head and walked past the girls.

Y/N L/N. That name had been bouncing around his head ever since Jason's phone call this morning. After his own research, he found out that she was a normal woman. A barista who went to Uni and studied (Enter career choice here cause I can't think of anything) and is under some debt. Thanks to his sons he found out that she sang as a second occupation. But something was off, He couldn't understand why this person meant something to him. Another point of interest was his boys. Their familiarity with this woman, how they had information that even he didn't find. It made him very suspicious. When the time comes he'll ask them about it.

"Batman, seems like they're going inside" Nightwing lowered his binoculars and looked at his father who was tapping on the wheel of the car, deep in thought

"umm Batman?"

Batman looked over to Nightwing and nodded before getting out of the car. As they made their way inside through the back, they noticed more guards protecting a metal door.

"Well that isn't suspicious at all." Nightwing said as he and Batman subdued the men and opened the door. The sound of the crowd clapping caught both of their attention followed by a passionate singing. filling the room above. Batman stopped and listened intently.

"Fly Me to the moon~ Let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on a- Jupiter and mars~"  Bruce had never heard something more beautiful. he felt entranced by the way she sang the melody. he stood there frozen, feeling that his movement would ruin the precious sound.

Nightwing Noticed his father and attended to him "Batman? Are you ok?" Batman shook his head, then looked up to where the music was coming from "Yea, I'm fine. Let's go" Quickly and quietly the two went down a flight of stairs leading into a dark hallway. Along the sides were many numbered doors.

"I'm surprised with how big this place is. It's like a stronghold." Nightwing said, knocking out another guard.

"Stay focused. We don't want anyone trying anything." Batman said entering a room.

The room had many rows of filing cabinets. Batman approached one of the boxes and pulled out a file.

"Looks like this place houses people's info. From the date of birth to their address." Batman pulled out another file.

"What are we looking for again?" Nightwing held up a flashlight.

"This" Batman pulled another box. It had dates and a file that read VIP's on the front. "The GCPD has been trying to track these groups of people down. They've been hosting illegal auctions and holding people against their will for months now. Not to mention the recent drug trade"

Nightwing opened his mouth to speak but heard the sound of someone cocking a gun. He felt the barrel behind his head. "Don't you know it's rude to snoop around other people's things?"

Nightwings eyes winded. Her voice, the voice that he'd known all too well. The voice that raised him. Batman stood with his hand raised "what you're doing is just as bad. Drop the gun."

"Why? So that you two can knock me silly? Not a chance." You pressed the gun further. "what did you find? Be honest now~ the last thing you want me to do is shoot."

Batman took a deep breath "I found a file titled VIP. That's all." There was a moment of silence between the two. They didn't break eye contact for what seemed like forever. Batman's shoulder became less tense when Y/N lowered the Gun and placed it behind her. Nightwing quickly stepped away from the woman, taking out his electric batons.

"Relax, I have no intention of killing you." you crossed your arms and leaned against the door.

"Then why did you threaten us?" Batman asked 

You shrugged looking down the hall "Batman and his accomplice are looking through my boss's stuff. If someone else were with me and I didn't pull out my gun I'd be killed later."

Batman lowered his hands "you must be Blue jay. The one who's been sending-"

"Ahh tá tá shhh shh shh" You tutted, you practically threw yourself on him and placed a hand over Batman's mouth "don't blow my cover jackass"

Batman didn't move. He looked down into your eyes. Your body was pressed against his as the two continued to look at each other. You slowly removed your hand "Yes, I'm the one who's been sending information" you trailed your hands on his broad chest "So the bat came to our rescue. How fun~"

**

Back at HQ. Tim typed on the computer doing his best to track down the origins of the stone. Damian walked into the cave. Tim heard shuffling behind him and turned to see his younger brother "Hey, you ok?"

" 'TT' of course I am Drake. Why wouldn't I be?" Damian grumbled putting his hood up. Tim completely turned to face Damian. His eyes were red and puffy followed by the light sniffles that he tried to hide. He frowned and placed a hand on his shoulder "Damian we-"

The boy looked past Tim and noticed the stone glowing a dim yellow. "Drake? Did you do something?" Tim turned and his eyes widened. He pushed himself on the rolling chair to get closer to the broken artifact. He pressed on the earpiece that had separate coms for him, Nightwing, and Redhood. "Nightwing what's happening?" Tim asked over the mic.

Nightwing cleared his throat causing the two adults to quickly pull away from each other. "This way" You had said adjusting your dress and leading Batman to another room. Nightwing brought his hand to his ear "Mom and dad were getting close. why?"

Tim's eyes widened with a big grin on his face "that's it!"

"What is?" Damian looked up at the screen. Hope filling his heart. "I have a theory. We need to try to get Bruce and Y/N back together."

"So like. Set them up?" Jason asked.

"Bingo." Tim rolled to another part of the cave. "The Stone began glowing when they were close right?"

Nightwing continued to follow little ways away from the other two giving them space. "Yea. Mostly mom being flirty"

"The tears from earlier today. The familiarity with us and our food. She isn't a complete stranger. Them being together is like fate." Tim practically bounced in his seat.

"And what of that boy who was with her? Surely he will be a difficult obstacle in our task to bring her back"

Tim's brow furrowed "He called her mom, but she's never mentioned having a son."

Jason's laughter was heard over the mic. "Ha! probably never loved the brat if she didn't mention him to us"

"Mother isn't like that you fool. There had to have been a reason." Damian snapped.

"Yea. It seems like she sugar coated a lot of what she told us. She told us she sang jazz. When In reality she worked with criminals." Tim scratched the back of his head.

**

Batman kept eyeing the mysterious woman as she led them down the long corridor "It's rude to stair Batman." You said stopping outside a door, turning around. "I wasn't staring"

"Right." You began pressing buttons on a key-coded door. Batman scratched the side of his face "Was that you singing?"

"Indeed it was. Maybe one day you'll be in the crowd and properly watch." With one final push of a button, she opened the door. Nightwing and Batman entered what looks to be a console room filled with computers and books.Y/N picked up discarded water bottles and candy wrappers and let out a sigh

"Jamie, what did I say about cleaning up after yourself."

The teen scoffed "what, it's not like anyone important is going to come in here."

He began blowing a huge bubble with his gum as he turned around. When he saw Nightwing and Batman behind her it popped in his face. "N-no fucking way."

"Language!" You scolded. Nightwing watched the Blonde-haired teen closely. It was the same kid from the Cafe earlier. He jumped up from his seat and took Batman's hand.

"I am a huge fan of your work. You are super cool. You're the kind of badass I wanna be when I'm older." He said enthusiastically. Then he went over to Nightwing."Your costume is really cool too! And how do you take care of your hair? Do you like, deep condition it when you're off duty?" He said with a smile.

"Jamie, stop gawking and show them the evidence already." You pinched your nose in mild frustration.

"Sure thing Ma"

Nightwing stiffened. Jamie, Son, but something was missing. A massive bit of information on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't remember. They all watched Jamie sit back down on his chair and expertly pull out the files on the pc.

You looked down at your watch "I'm going back on stage, I'll buy you some more time."

Batman turned his head "I- um... uhh"

You look back "Yes Batman?"

"Be careful out there." You gave him a smile that stopped his heart

"honey~ I sing in a glorified cage. I think I'll be fine" you blew him a kiss then closed the door.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her and it was beginning to irk him. Like an itch, that can't be reached. Bruce looked back at the boy and felt sadness, guilt. It was such a sudden but familiar emotion. He took a deep breath and continued to watch Jamie work. The teen pulled up schedules and meeting logs. 

"Bats. Can I call ya bats? Here's the stuff you've been looking for. If you're going to bust em, do it by the end of week."

Batman raised an eyebrow "What happens on Friday?"

Jamie showed them an invitation "These scumbags are going to try and sell us off in an auction. A lot of big names in the underground will be showing up. That's when you get em' "

Jamie opened up a map, then zoomed in on the docks "when shit hits the fan that'll be their escape route"

"Understood. The drive" Batman said, extending his hand. Jamie pulled out the flash drive and handed it to the masked man. "I'm working with Gotham's greatest detective, sweeeeeet~"

He threw away the bubblegum that he was chewing and replaced it with another one. "I'll show you two out. Can't exactly leave through the front door huh" Jamie rose from his seat and put his hoodie on.

Nightwing couldn't help but stress as he followed the teen. He had his hands crossed, looking at the back of the kids head." Hey Dick? Everything ok over there?" Tim asked over the coms.

"That name. I know it but I don't remember why... he's also a lot nicer than he was at the cafe" Nightwing whispered.

Jamie opened a door "off you two go. The ladder leads to the street outside." Jamie popped his bubble gum as he watched Batman climb the ladder.

"Later kid" Dick said following his father.

"Nightwing." The man turned his head

"what's up"

"Be sure you're on time this Friday. Would be a shame if there were an... accident."

Nightwings eyes widened. He noticed the teen's chirpy demeanor quickly changed into a cold one. A heavy silence befell upon the two. As Nightwing turned and climbed after Batman. Unease began to fill his mind "Tim. Look up this Jamie kid"

**

Jamie returned to the console room and sat on his chair. He settled his feet on the desk and clicked a few buttons. The screen soon displayed Batman, Nightwing, And Redhood all gathered together somewhere in the city, probably sharing information.  “I hope we can work together well." 

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 23

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 23

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R.

Words: ~4000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15  Part 16 Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22

Mine (One-shot in the same universe)

source: @chailame​ 

Day 5 - Friday

It was another long, torturous day Billy had to live through without you. He would’ve happily traded places with his younger self in the hellhole that was Kandahar if it meant not experiencing the anguish he was feeling right now. Physical pain he could deal with, he was used to it, but this… this agonizing heartache that gnawed at him every minute from not being able to see you – it was too much. He clutched his chest. The tightness in his heart seemed to grow worse every day along with the sinking feeling of hopeless despair that never went away. All because of you.

A part of him was pissed at you for putting him through this misery. If you actually loved him, if you felt even a fraction of what he did for you there was no way in fucking hell you would have forced this separation on him. There were other ways you could’ve punished him but you chose the most painful route - no contact – and that could only mean distance from him wasn’t as exacting on you as it was him. He may have been a pathetic mess without you but you were probably fine without him.

What if you met someone else? That was the thought that fucking haunted him every night. It’s not like you were sitting at home, miserable without him. You were going out, looking hot, being yourself, charming all kinds of assholes with how fucking gorgeous and smart you were. You were beautiful as it was, but when you were all decked out with your hair and makeup done and your hips swaying as you walked through a crowd and your goddamn beautiful thick legs in high heels that he loved having wrapped around him as he fucked you… shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He had to stop doing this to himself.

He turned to his side, staring at the spot where you usually slept on his bed. His penthouse suite, once a place he was so fucking proud of because it reeked of class and money now felt barren and hollow without you. He felt empty without you, your smile, your love, your touch, your brilliant mind, your soothing words. Hell, even your anger.

Hearing his phone vibrate on the nightstand, he circled around to grab it. His heart started pounding when he saw there was a Whatsapp voice note from you. You wouldn’t be contacting him if something wasn’t wrong. Panicked, he started listening to your message.

“Hey, it’s me… don’t call me back, I just… I miss you. I wanted you to know.”

Hearing your voice, his chest constricted again. You sounded tired, upset, like you’d been crying.

“I went to work today and I got nothing done, because I just kept thinking about you. God, I sound like a pathetic teenager.”

So he wasn’t the only one having trouble focusing on work.

“I just… why did you have to do this, Billy? Why did you have to ruin things? Everything was going so good but you just had to mess things up. Why? I love you, I miss you… but I can’t be with you and I’m so fucking angry at you that I want to scream! I asked you for one thing, and it wasn’t even anything unreasonable and you couldn’t even do that… why?”

Hearing you sob on the phone made him feel like complete shit. The last thing he ever wanted was to hurt you but that’s exactly what he’d done.

“My heart hurts so much right now and I don’t get why. I had strong feelings for you when we were just hooking up and you were sleeping with other women so it should’ve felt worse back then but this… this feels like you ripped my heart out of my chest.” You sniffled, your voice teary. “I hope you’re hurting as much as I’m right now but you’re probably out there having the time of your life. Maybe that’s why you did this. Maybe you wanted to break up with me but didn’t have the balls to do it so you fucked things up on purpose so I’d be the one to break things off. Is that why you did it? Are you that much of a fucking pussy?”

He sat up, suddenly panicked. Is that what you thought? No, there’s no way you’d believe something so stupid. The voice clip ended abruptly and he started dialing your number right away but then stopped himself when he thought about the conditions you’d set. What if he called you and it pissed you off more? But how could he not reach out and set you straight after you blurted out such a ridiculous idea?

Agitated, he texted you. 

Can I call you? 

He stared down at the app as you typed your message.

No.

Now what the fuck was he supposed to do? He started pacing the floor, angry at you but mostly at himself. Deep down he knew he was to blame for this. You were right. You’d asked him to stay away from your parents but he’d been so hellbent on making them pay he’d purposely deceived you. Lied to you. Billy knew he was a selfish asshole, that usually worked to his benefit, but if he ended up losing you because of his selfishness-

The phone buzzed again. Another voice note from you.

“I know you want to talk, but I can’t. It’s hard for me to stay away from you and it’s taking everything I have not to call you right now… please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

The desperation in your voice tugged at his insides. You were hurting, like him.

“About what I said earlier, I know you didn’t do it to break up with me. I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid. If that’s what you wanted, you’d have gone through with your plans for my parents. But you didn’t. You stopped because you knew I could never forgive that.”

Relief surged through him, he exhaled a long, drawn-out breath.

“I never realized how much calmer I feel with you around. I think it’s because we know each so well… I can be myself with you, show you the parts I hide from everyone else and you don’t judge me for it. Now you’re not here and I can feel myself spiralling over the smallest things. It’s crazy.” You laughed, the sound half-bitter, half-choking. “I thought I was the strong one. Thought these two weeks would be hard but I could just focus on work without any distractions and it’d be fine. But it’s not, Billy. It’s not fine. You’re such a big part of my life and without you it feels like half of me is missing.”

He sat back on the bed, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Need to go to bed… I’m so exhausted. And I have a headache from crying so much.” You sniffled again. “I’m PMSing too.”

He smirked, knowing how emotional you got when you were on your rag. He made a mental note to send you the imported British chocolates you loved so much. When you were achy and cramping, those chocolates were the difference between you being sweet and loving and completely hulking out on him. You didn’t like having sex when you were on your period, but you were more affectionate than usual and needy during those days and he loved seeing you act so clingy with him.

“You usually buy me chocolates. Will you send me some?” You sighed. “Okay, I’m gonna go now.”

The voice message ended, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A few hours ago he was wishing he’d never met you because the pain of missing you was so brutal. Now, he was willing to do whatever it took to get you back in his life. Yeah, it hurt like hell to be without you but if the separation now meant you’d start to trust him again and be a part of his life without any reservations he was willing to stick it out and deal with this fucking temporary heartbreak.

Putting his phone down on the table, he laid back on the bed and attempted to get some sleep.

Day 8 - Monday

Today had been a day from hell. There’d been a huge blowout with Frank, one of the clients he’d been recruiting was still acting wishy-washy so he’d lost it and snapped at him, and Sonia, his receptionist, had told him if he didn’t stop acting like a jackass she’d put in her notice by the end of the week. But now you’d left him a voice note and this fucked up day was instantly better.

“Thank you for the chocolates. You sent me so much, you know I have no self-control when it comes to them. I had to lock them up so I wouldn’t be tempted to eat all the bags.”

“I know things are hard right now but you can’t take it out on others, Billy. Especially Frank.”

Karen must have called you. Shit.

“It’s not easy but you’re a leader. You’re running your own company now. People look up to you and that means putting on a professional face even if the rest of your world is imploding around you. Otherwise you’re going to lose good employees.”

He knew you had a valid point, he needed to straighten himself out at work before his staff quit on him.

“We had a leadership meeting today at work. It was supposed to be a discussion about signing a potential client but it derailed within minutes. I hope they don’t agree to the contract. It’ll be a shit-show if they do.”

Your voice had a soothing effect on his frayed nerves, even as you chatted about things he didn’t really care about. You talked about Davina, and how she’d met some guy and how you’d bought a lot of shoes in the past week – tell-tale sign that you were also a mess without him.

“I know it’s a few months away but I was thinking�� do you want to go away somewhere for Christmas? Maybe somewhere tropical with palm trees and beaches and warm weather… I mean, you obviously don’t have to. I usually spend Christmas with Davina and her family and maybe you also have plans… I don’t know, maybe it’s too much too soon. Maybe we’re not ready for that yet. Maybe you’ll meet someone in the next six days and realize you don’t want me anymore.” Your hesitant tone took on an unexpected shade of anger. “If that does happen, I’m going to make you pay. And that stupid bitch too.”

A smirk curved across his lips, hearing your jealousy peak through. It was fucking dumb as hell that you’d think that was even possible but he loved it when you got possessive over him.

“The jewel plug you got me, I’ve been thinking about it. I know I said I wasn’t sure before but I think it might be fun.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, were you trying to kill him or something? He had a hard-on just hearing the seductive drawl in your voice. You were deliberately being a cock-tease, knowing it would drive him crazy.

“Miss your hands on me, Billy…”

Fuck! He reached down beneath his boxers and started to jerk himself off.

“You do this thing with your tongue on my clit and it just…” You moaned, the sound so hot he practically came right then and there.

“And the way you play with my nipples… I never really liked guys touching my boobs before. They’d always grab too hard-”

What the fuck? Why the hell were you telling him about other motherfuckers touching your tits? Did you want him to fucking puke?

“But you, you have just the right touch. Not too rough, not too soft, just perfect. My very own Goldilocks.”

Your soft giggle was hot as hell and he starting pumping faster, fantasizing about your sweet, beautiful pussy. The smell of you, the taste of you, the sexy as hell moans you made the closer you got to your orgasm, how tight your cunt felt when he was buried deep inside you, the look in your eyes when he was fucking you relentlessly, your lush mouth wrapped around his cock-

“Did I tell you I bought a pair of handcuffs in Paris? I wanted to use them on you but then you pulled that stupid stunt… guess I’ll just have to wait to use them, maybe with someone else if things don’t work out between us.”

His jaw clenched with anger. No way in fucking hell was he ever gonna let that happen. You were his. That meant only he could fuck you. Touch you. Hold you. If you so much as looked at anyone else, he’d kill the fucker.

“Goodnight, Billy. Only six more days before I see you again.”

Technically five because it was after midnight.  

“I know you’re probably so sick of hearing me say this but I miss you. I love you, Billy.”

It was the sweetness in your voice that pushed him over the edge, his body rushing towards orgasm.

Minutes after he’d cleaned himself up, he reached for his phone again. It took every bit of resolve he had not to call you, his fingers shaking as he texted you instead.

Five days, not six. And the only one who’s gonna be using those cuffs is me. On you. You’re mine. Always mine. The second Day 14 is over, I’m moving in. No more space, no more distance.

Don’t care if you still can’t trust me, I can’t be without you.  

He stared down at his phone, contemplating whether to text you what was on his mind next. You already knew how he felt, he’d told you several times, but it was one thing to verbalize it and something else entirely to see it in text. Pushing aside his doubts, he hit ‘Send’.

Others have said they love me but it was bullshit. They saw what I wanted them to see. The pretty parts. But you see everything. Good. Bad. Ugly. And you still want me. You still love me.

And I feel the same about you.

Anxiety coiled in the pit of his stomach as he waited for you to respond.

I know, Billy. Good night.

He chuckled at the casual nature of your response. That was your thing, wasn’t it? When he was feeling tense and all kinds of fucked up, you calmed him down by simply being you. Fuck, he missed you. Five more days before he saw you again, and it felt like an eternity.

Sighing, he got ready for bed.

Day 12 - Friday

Billy was reviewing a stack of proposals his lawyer had sent over when there was a knock on the office door. His first instinct was to tell the person to fuck off but he stopped himself in time; just because he was in a bad mood didn’t mean he got to take it out on others. That was his new goddamn mantra. “Come in.”

The last person he expected to see was you walking through the door.

His heart stopped in his chest, every volatile emotion rushing to the surface at the sight of you. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. You were in a suit which meant you must have rushed over here from work. Because you couldn’t stand being apart from him any longer.

He marched over to you, drawing you in his arms, peppering your face with kisses but you pulled away abruptly. What the fuck? You stepped back from him, putting physical distance between him and you. Twelve days he hadn’t seen you, and, instead of letting him hold you, you were actually pushing him away. Irritation flooded over him, but then he noticed the concerned expression on your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cradling your face. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” you replied. “But I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Roger told me you were close to signing a contract with Johnny Bosworth’s team. Is that true?”

Roger. Fucking Roger. He hadn’t seen you in twelve days and the first word out of your mouth was goddamn Roger.

“How the fuck does Roger know that?” Billy fired back. He was pissed. Pissed at that prick Roger, and pissed at you that he was the reason you rushed to Anvil to see Billy.

“We were still deciding whether to sign the contract but then someone from Johnny Bosworth’s team reached out to him and said the deal was no longer on the table. They were signing with you. Is that true?”

Jaw clamped, he moved back to his desk and leaned back against it. “Why would I tell you that? This is Anvil business. Has nothing to do with you,” he bit out.

Your eyes flared with anger. “He’s an asshole and a bigot who encourages mob violence against innocent people!”

Eyebrow raised, he crossed his arms. “Just because I work with him doesn’t mean I agree with his politics.” He dipped his head to the side, glaring at you with hostility. “You and I don’t interfere with each other’s work. That’s your rule. So why the hell are you sticking your nose into mine?”

Lips pursed, you stared at him for a long while. “I was offered a promotion.  Vice-President of the European market. Taking the job would’ve meant moving to Paris.”

It was like a punch to the gut, the pain sharp and unbearable. You were leaving him. It was his worst nightmare come to life. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed by panic.

“I turned it down because it meant being away from you. But you, you decided to take on a client that actually tells his idiot followers to kill people who look like me. I bet that never weighed in your mind at all, did it? Not even for a second. Shows how important I am to you.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “Must be nice to be rich and white so you never have to worry about shit like this.”

Before he could wrap his mind around your words, you stormed out.

Part 24

A/N - If you have the time to leave feedback, it would be highly appreciated! As always, thank you for reading and supporting the fic. As some of you know, I’m contemplating a sequel. The major plot point is mapped out but the little details are still being worked out in my mind.

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics​

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[cjsinkythoughts]

Suits, Dresses, and Heels

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, More Mentions of PTSD, Gun Violence, Slight Mentions of Drinking, Club Dancing (You’re all gonna hate me for that part, but I’m not sorry)

A/N: Here’s Part 4.2 - The Second Part to Episode 3 - as requested. This is a little more scene-by-scene, but there are some off-screen moments. I’ll be posting Part 4.3 (which will have the rest of the episode) later tonight.

There’s a bit more information on Reader, but not as much as the last chapter. Sharon comes in during this part, so you get to see her and Reader’s relationship.

Also, I have mixed feelings about Zemo at this point. Not in the story, the Reader’s not a fan as you learned previously, but for me personally, he’s surprised me a couple times by coming back and helping.

Anyways! Thank you so much for reading! This isn’t beta’d so excuse any mistakes! Check out my other parts before you read! Thank you again! Stay tuned, loves!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

The dress was far too tight for your liking, and showed way too much skin. Not that you didn’t like being a tease every once in a while, but for this mission, you’d rather have more cover and movement.

You had to admit though; Zemo had nice taste. The dress fit deliciously - which made you wonder how he got your size. The color and cut was devastatingly flattering. Plus, he let you do your own makeup.

Being the only female, you were in a separate area of the jet getting ready. Once you were done, you made sure to knock, even though you’d walked in on Sam changing too many times to count while on the run and had seen Bucky answer the door in nothing but a towel. It was mainly for Zemo’s sake, just a warning that you were walking in whether or not they were ready.

“Damn, girl! You clean up nice!”

You rolled your eyes at Sam, painted lips quirking up as you studied him, shooting him a wink. “You should try a mirror, Sammy.” You turned to Bucky to find him staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed at you. “What do you think, Buck?”

His mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat, eyes exploring the dips and curves your body. “You…” He blinked once. Twice. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his intense eyes making you heat up, before he shook his head. “You look good.” He rushed out, before spinning on his heel shoving past Sam who was snickering.

“Where’s Zemo?” You noticed he wasn’t in the main area of the plane when you walked in.

“Rearranging our ride once we get there.”

You huffed, fixing your hair. “Oh God. We’re really doing this.”

“Yup.”

“Okay.” You looked down at yourself before looking up at the boys. “Something’s gonna go wrong, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely.”

“No doubt.”

Giving a slight groan at their simultaneous answers, you nodded. “Let’s try not to screw up too badly, boys, alright? I at least want to live long enough to see Peter graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a scoff. “That kid’s a punk.”

“You’re a punk.” You shot back.

Bucky raised his hand. “I second that punk thing.”

“For which one?”

“Both of them.”

You chuckled as Sam gaped at Bucky, who shrugged innocently. The former assassin tilted his head in your direction to shoot you a grin and a wink, making you laugh more. Shaking your head, you go to make a joke when Zemo walked in.

“It’s time. We’re landing now.”

And just like that, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, leaving you anxious and regretful.

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

You walked by Bucky, arm linked with his metal one, listening as Zemo told Sam about his “character” he was to play.

“He’s a known womanizer - always has a gorgeous lady on his arm.” Zemo gestured towards you. “It’s the only way they’d let in a woman.”

“Aren’t we going to see a woman?” You questioned, gently patting Bucky’s metallic bicep when his hold on you tightened.

“Which makes it more imperative that you don’t act threatening. Women don’t make the same mistake men do; they don’t underestimate other women.”

You nodded. He had a point there. Bucky faced you, a frown on those pretty lips. “I don’t like this.” He mumbled.

“You think I do?” You whispered back. “With you being him again? Even if it’s just pretend? And need I remind you whose idea this was?”

“I know, I know. Just…” He sighed. “Promise me you won’t get hurt on purpose.”

Your forehead creased. “Why would I-?”

“To protect people. You always do. And I get it, I do. It’s why you started this in the first place, but…save yourself first, this time, okay?”

“Buck-”

“Promise me.”

It wasn’t often you could see the fear in his eyes, hear it in his voice, but you could then. Unable to do anything else you nodded, a soft, “okay” falling from your lips. He nodded back, pressing a kiss to your head, before letting you go as a car approached.

Bucky helped you in - the heels you were wearing were no joke - before sliding in himself, Sam getting in on the other side of you. “And you two can’t be…” Zemo gestured to the two of you as the car started moving, eyeing your still connected hands. “Doing that.”

“This isn’t my first theater production.” You snapped at him. “We’ll be fine.”

He raised his hands in surrender, turning back to look out the windshield. Once you arrived, you gave Bucky’s hand one last squeeze, before accepting Sam’s hand to get out on his side, linking your arm with his like you were doing with Bucky earlier.

“I finally get to see one of your performances, baby.” Sam grinned at you.

You smirked back. “Best seats in the house, too, Smiling Tiger.” He groaned at your jest, nudging you playfully with his elbow as you giggled.

“This way.” Zemo cut in, jerking his head in the direction you’d be going. You took a breath, steeling yourself, before the three of you nodded at each other and followed his lead.

You found the fellas reactions amusing, their heads turning to study and scan everything they could see. You were more subtle in the way you analyzed your surroundings, feeling a bit more at home in this situation than, say, fighting super soldiers on top of semi trucks.

Your jaw tightened, as did your grip on Sam’s arm, when Zemo started speaking Russian, the four of you pushing through a crowded bar. Sam ran his fingers over your arms, giving your hand a little squeeze, silently reassuring you.

It was a bit obvious Sam hadn’t done much undercover work, put he stayed in character and you were impressed. Especially when the bartender started cutting up the snake, which you had to look away for because if there was one thing you couldn’t do…it was snakes. You nearly gagged when Sam reluctantly downed the drink. 

Bucky eyed you, lips pursed in a way you recognized as him trying to hold in a smile. That made you feel a little better, hiding your own smile by turning into the crook of Sam’s neck. “Not. Funny.” He growled through clenched teeth, lips not moving.

“Kinda is.”

He grumbled under his breath, before the two of you tuned into the conversation between Zemo and a thug that came up, learning about the apparent power broker of Madripoor, which you a bit of from your time undercover there.

Sam held you tightly when Zemo turned to Bucky, knowing what was about to happen.

You didn’t like it. You didn’t like how easily aggressive he became. You didn’t like the little smirk Zemo gave as Bucky attacked. You didn’t like the cellphones being pointed in his direction. You didn’t like it.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” You gave Zemo a warning glare, a shaky breath leaving you.

He’d been doing so well. At least, for someone who had been through what he had. Especially considering it’d only been a few months since he’d been pardoned - half a year since everyone came back. You knew bringing Zemo on board had been a bad idea, but-

A squeeze to your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Zemo allowed Bucky to let the man he was choking go.

“Selby will see you now.”

One step down. You hoped that would be the hardest part, but you knew it most definitely wouldn’t be.

“You good?”

Bucky sniffed, giving you two a curt nod, before following Zemo. You bit your lip. “That wasn’t really an answer, was it?”

Sam shook his head. “No. No it wasn’t.”

Selby wasn’t exactly what you were expecting, but you’d come to expect that. You stayed on Sam’s arm, giving the guards coy smiles and playing with the fake nails you had on in faux-boredom.

When she purred at the man besides you, you and Bucky glanced at each other, with you resisting the urge to scrunch up your nose. “And who is this gorgeous creature?”

Your eyes snapped back to Selby, giving her a slightly bashful smile. “Celeste Addams. Pleasure.”

“Trust me, dear. The pleasure is all mine.” Alright, you thought as she scanned you with a smirk. She was swinging for both teams. You could work with that. “What’s the offer?” She looked back to Zemo.

Zemo gave her the offer - information about the super soldier serum for the Winter Soldier and the code words to control him. Your blood boiled as Zemo touched Bucky, fingers grabbing his chin. You swore, once this whole thing was over, you would kick Zemo’s ass. You should make a list, just to keep track of all the things he’d done, and no doubt would do, to piss you off. That way he’d know why exactly you were beating his ass.

A name came up, Dr. Wilfred Nagel, along with the knowledge that the super soldier serum was, in fact, in Madripoor. You and Sam met eyes. Second step down.

But before they could get anything else, Sam’s phone buzzed. You ducked your head, closing your eyes, mumbling “fuck” when you saw it was Sarah. Sam’s responses just made you inwardly cringe even more.

“The bank, yeah. We laundered so much mo-” He chuckled nervously. “Yeah. They’ll come around.”

Is he fucking serious? For the love of God, Sammy…

And then she called him Sam. Next thing you knew, Selby was shot and you, Bucky, and Sam were taking out a guard each, you growling at the fact that you couldn’t use your legs because the dress was too damn tight.

You had no choice but to trust Zemo’s lead, but word traveled very quickly here, and less than a minute after walking outside, you were getting shot at.

“C’mon!” Bucky grabbed your arm, pulling you besides him.

“Can you not right now?!”

“I can’t run in these heels!”

You glared at Sam, the killer six inchers on your feet feeling like hell. “Hell no! You did not just say that in front of me!”

“You started it!” You scowled at him, following Bucky into an alley, only to duck as shots rang out. Chest heaving, you looked around for the source of the bullets that killed the men chasing you.  Your “guardian angel” as Zemo put it.

She soon appeared in all her stunning, blonde badass glory. “Sharon?”

Sam quickly explained the situation, trying to get her not to shoot Zemo who she had a gun pointed at.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” she pointed the gun at Sam, then Bucky, “so that you could save his ass, from his ass.” And the gun was back on Zemo. She shot you a smile. “And your ass is looking beautiful as always.”

You grinned back. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

As she spoke, your lips turned down. You had tried calling her after Germany, but it always went to voicemail. First thing you did when you got back was try to get everyone pardoned, but it was a process. And then you found out about Wanda and ever since…

Sharon was your first real friend. She was only a couple years younger than you and had been one of your first partners during your time with SHIELD. And the fact that she’d been on the run for years now, even with the Blip, her family not having seen or talked to her since…that was exactly why you couldn’t take a break. She was family and you found there was nothing more important than family. But when she needed you, you were out searching for someone who didn’t want to be found.

How were you supposed to choose between two sisters? How could you cope with the fact that you chose the wrong one?

“Sharon, we need your help.” She laughed at Bucky’s statement. “Please,”

She glanced at you and you nodded. “I’d appreciate it, Share.”

She gave a sigh before nodding. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You should be safe there for a while.”

She turned and started walking, and you were about to follow, when you remembered something.

Spinning around, your fist connected with Zemo’s cheek, Sam and Bucky shouting in surprise while the man stumbled back. “Don’t you fucking dare touch him like that ever again, or I will break every bone in your body.” You threatened, your expression twisting into a scowl as you grab his hand and bend it awkwardly. He grunted but didn’t move, knowing one wrong turn would break his wrist. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” He ground out.

You pushed a little more, making him wince, before letting go and rounding back to Sharon, who was smirking at you. “Let’s get moving.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She jerked her head back over her shoulder to where a car was waiting, leading them over.

You quickly followed after her with Bucky on your heels and Sam dragging Zemo along. Speaking of heels, as soon as you got in the car - getting shotgun for the first time ever at Sharon’s insistence - you prodded the stupid shoes off your feet.

“Nice kicks.”

“Yeah.” You scoffed. “Unless you’re trying to kick.”

“Did you rip the dress?”

“I was tempted to.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you in something more comfortable. And you’ll look just as good. Not that you wouldn’t look good in literally anything.”

You chuckled, giving her a look. “Let’s not test that theory.”

She smiled back, nodding. “Fine. I’ll let you pick something out.”

Sam huffed, crossing his arms best he could, being squished with the two other fully grown men in the back seat. “Women.”

The two of you exchanged looks, rolling your eyes at the three pouting guys. “Men.”

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

“I’m gonna go check on the boys. But I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, looking through her closet. No dresses. And absolutely no heels. Flats, if you had to, but you’d definitely prefer sneakers right now. You decided on shorts and an off-the-shoulder blouse, grateful for the looser clothing.

“They’re idiots.”

You laughed and looked over at the door as Sharon entered. “Yeah. I know.”

“Cute.” She commented on your outfit, sitting on her bed. “They explained the situation. Sam said if I help, he’d clear my name-”

“Sharon.” You sighed, biting your lip. “I tried. I really did. I-”

She shook her head, smiling at you reassuringly. “No, I know. It’s why I’m not mad at you. Sorry I didn’t call back. How’ve you been?”

You shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“Even with the whole ‘Cap is back’ thing.”

“Walker’s the government’s pet. He’s not Captain America. He’s not…”

“Steve?”

Looking up at her from the ground, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you miss him?”

You smirked, wagging your eyebrows at her. “Do you?”

She rolled her eyes, tossing a pillow at you. “It’s kinda weird now, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little. But I can’t blame you. Have you seen him shirtless? Good God.”

Sharon laughed, shaking her head as you joined her on the bed. “How come it’s always you getting wrapped up in these things?”

“I have no clue.” You chuckled, crossing your legs underneath you. “First I’m answering a phone call from Bucky at five in the morning and next thing I know, I’m being kicked off of semi trucks, breaking criminals out of prisons and running in six inch heels.”

“You answer Bucky’s calls at five in the morning?”

You gave her a look. “Sharon-”

“No, no. Hey. That’s cool. Some girls like bad boys, some like jocks, others like nerds. You like super soldiers from the 40’s. Everyone’s got a thing.”

A playful shove turned into a pillow fight, which turned into a sparring session, during which you pin her on her back. “You’re getting better.” You complimented, getting up.

She glared at you, taking your outstretched hand and letting you pull her up. “I guess that’s why you’re an Avenger.”

“That’s still weird to say.”

“Why? You’ve been an Avenger since, what? Ultron?”

You nodded, straightening your clothes. “Officially, anyways.”

“Right. Because you were there for the Battle of Manhattan as the secret seventh superhero.”

“Yeah…I miss it. The anonymity. I’m pretty sure I’m one half the Senators’ speed dials.”

Sharon frowned, brows pinching together. “What about the other half of the OG? Where are they?”

“Thor’s in space, Bruce is MIA - which I can’t really blame him for - and Clint’s retired with his family.”

“You think he’s gonna stay retired?”

You shrugged. “I hope he does. He’s been trying to retire for years. He deserves it. Knowing him, though…probably not.”

Sharon crossed her arms, nodding at you. “So that leaves you.”

“Yes it does.”

“Do you ever think of taking a break?”

You gave a half-sigh, half-groan, making her smirk in amusement. “It’s…come up a lot recently. I dunno. I think I’m burning out, anyways.”

“What makes you say that? I was watching you guys with Selby. You’re still one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“I-I’ve been having…problems.”

Her eyes narrowed, her hands setting on her hips like a mother about to scold her child. “What kind of problems?”

“Just flashbacks. Of different things. It happens at random times. Certain triggers; something someone says or does, or something I smell or hear.”

“PTSD?”

“Something like that.”

“Has it affected you in the field?” Hesitating to answer was answer enough and she nodded. “Then…maybe it’s time you do start considering retiring.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “At 36? There’s no way.”

“C’mon. It’s not too late for you to settle down. Go one a few dates. Meet someone. Maybe have a couple kids-”

“Woah, woah. Slow your roll.” Your features scrunched up in incredulity. “Pump your breaks. No one said anything about marriage or kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just saying…think about it. I heard even Bucky’s been on a few dates.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at her, hearing the suggestive tone in her voice and seeing the eyebrow raise. “Yeah. He has. A few. I told him to. Told him it might be good for him to, I dunno, get back out there.

“Or, you could just…go out there with him.”

“Not you too! Have you been talking to Sam?”

“Is it Steve? Is that what’s stopping you? Because you know he’d just want you to be hap-” She stopped as he phone vibrated, grabbing it and reading the text. “Company’s arriving.” She pointed a finger at you. “You got very very lucky. This conversation isn’t over. I’m not dropping this.”

You bit your cheek and nodded. “Alright, mom. Can we go party now?”

She breathed out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go party.”

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

“Hey, gorgeous! There you are!”

You smirked at the boys as they met you near the top of the stairs, eyeing Sam and Bucky appreciatively. Damn, could Sam pull off a turtleneck. And Bucky in black and skinny jeans? Sharon sure had good taste. “Today’s the day for attractive outfits, huh, gentlemen?”

“I’ll say.” Bucky hummed, glancing at your own outfit. “You look beautiful, doll.”

“You look very dashing yourself, Barnes.” You grin, pulling at the lapels of his black blazer and fixing the collar. You smoothed your hand down the front of his shirt, looking up at him with an eyebrow raised when he caught your wrist, keeping your palm over his heart.

He clenched his jaw, taking a breath, before letting it out, almost dejectedly, and letting your hand go. “Um,” He cleared his throat, hand falling down by his side. “Did, uh, did Sharon say anything more about these friends of hers to you?”

“Nope.” You shook your head. “Just told me to enjoy the party.”

“I guess we should go enjoy the party, then.” Sam nodded towards the stairs, where the music was floating up, her guests already pouring in.

You made your way downstairs, looking around the room. Sharon sure did know how to throw one, that’s for sure.

People were pushed together, dancing to the beat of the music, drinking, with colored lights flashing every which way. Bucky’s hand found yours almost instantly, and you smiled at him. “C’mon.”

“What?” His eyes were wide as you dragged him towards the groups of people dancing. 

“Dance with me.”

He shook his head violently. “I-I can’t.”

“I thought you used to be a dancer?”

“Used to. And I was a swing-dancer. Not…” He gestured around to the people bobbing up and down, moving their bodies with each other.

You waved dismissively, pulling him closer. “All you need to do is feel the beat. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, Mr. Tough and Scary Assassin?”

He licked his lips, looking around nervously. You brought his hands to your hips, making his eyes snap back to yours, your own arms winding around his neck. You started moving rhythmically, nodding your head to the music, smiling up at him and giggling at the adorable concentration on his face.

“You, uh, you go to parties like this a lot?”

“I specialized in undercover operations, remember? I practically lived at these places for some of them.” He licked his lips, his grasp on your hips tightening. “Loosen up a little.” You laughed, catching his jaw between your fingers and making him look at you instead of the crowd surrounding him. You scratched at the scruff, speaking softly, but loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just me.”

He nodded and, slowly, a bit hesitant, started moving his body with yours, relaxing his tense muscles the longer you two danced.

“Nice hit, by the way. With Zemo earlier.”

You shrugged, turning in his arms, biting your lip when he pulled you closer, your back to his chest. “I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. It was unnecessary. I was thinking of making a list, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your arms wound around his neck again, your head falling back to his shoulder. “Of things he’s done so far that warrant’s me beating his ass once this is done.”

He chuckled, warm breath tickling your cheek, thumbs tracing circles on the bare skin just above the waistline of your shorts. Your own fingers had found home in his hair holding his head where it was, his lips centimeters away from your ear. “Share it with Sam. I’m sure he has a few things to add.”

Your breath hitched as his metal fingers danced along your bare navel, arm tightening around your waist. “I’m sure he does…I thought you said you can’t dance.”

“I guess I just needed to warm up. I’m a bit rusty after eighty years.”

“Don’t seem that rusty to me.” You breathed out, turning your head to look at him. His tongue ran across his lips again, his eyes glancing to your own.

“Hey, guys!” The world and your situation came crashing down on you, the music you didn’t realize you’d been tuning out, along with the crowd’s boisterous laughter and cheers, rushed back to yours ears. The little bubble with just you and Bucky shattered. You both stepped away from each other; you cleared your throat and pushed down the heat that had nothing to do with the hundred bodies in the one room, while Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red with no help from the colored lights. Both of you were panting lightly, avoiding eye contact with the other three staring knowingly at you. Sharon nodded her head, gesturing behind her. “I found him.”

Sam nudged Bucky - who was staring at you, his jaw ticking and his throat tightening as he swallowed thickly - before jabbing his thumb in Sharon’s direction. “Here we go.”

You nodded, eyeing Bucky with a small smile. “Here we go, Buckaroo.”

[mandoalorian]

Sinner [Dark!Din Djarin x F!Reader] *SMUT*

Summary: The Mandalorian has been attending confession for weeks now, with the sole intensive purpose to see you. 

Rating: 18+ smut

Warnings: Dark!Din, implied age difference, religion kink (don’t come for me...), sex in a place of worship, smut: loss of virginity, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, unprotected p in v, cunningless, death mention, alcohol mention, brothel mention. 

Word Count: 4000+

Masterlist

REBLOGS APPRECIATED!<3

He’d been coming to confess for about a year now. He’d gone off the rails when he lost the kid. You’d heard rumours about the Mandalorian — strong, fierce, brave... a warrior. You certainly wouldn’t have pinned him for a man of faith. You’d seen him a few times when you were shadowing your father in church. He was tall, broad shouldered, and only came during the dead of night, when the abbey was completely isolated.

“Hello,” you greeted him, your soft voice echoing throughout the chambers. Your crimson red heels clicked against the marble floor beneath you as you approached the masked figure. Curtseying politely and removing your hood, you couldn’t help but bat your eyelashes in the direction the Mandalorian. “It’s quite late. I was just closing for the night.” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip in hope that he’d understand.

“I thought places of worship aren’t supposed to close?” He countered quizzically, an air of amusement in his voice. 

“You’re right, technically,” you hummed, picking at your nails as a wash of nerves flooded over you. “But my father is out of town and... I need to sleep.”

That’s where he recognised you from— you were the daughter of the Grand Bishop. He’d seen you before, doting around the abbey in your signature black gown and red robes. You were hard to miss, your beauty being beyond standards of measure. Yes, he knew you. He had noticed you watching him from the pillars above, when you thought nobody was looking. He noticed the way you’d deliberately brush past his body... desperate for just the slightest touch. He recognised your scent too; it was sweet like honey. And your ruby coloured lips. He’d dreamt of them plenty of times. It was really you.

“Where is he?” The Mandalorian asked after a beat of prolonged silence.

“He was requested by Senator Berenko to present evening mass on Naboo, for the Festival of Lights.” you explained, probably offering a little too much information.

“When will he be back?”

“Next week.”

“Well, I’ll be back then.” 

No, you couldn’t just let him leave. You couldn’t just let him walk away from you. This was your chance. In a fluster, you extended your arm and pawed at his bicep. He froze under your touch, and you hoped that you hadn’t overstepped. 

“Are— you’re here to confess. Aren’t you?” you asked him with a nervous gulp. Maker, why were you so nervous? The Mandalorian didn’t say anything, so you heeded to continue. “I’ve seen you come by before. I know you speak to my father usually but— I can do it. The confession, I mean. I’ve been shadowing my father for the past few months— training with him. I can do it. If... if you’d like me to.”

The Mandalorian took a moment to process your words. Maker; you were a sight to behold. Your eyes were starry and reflective of the galaxy he’d spent so long venturing. Your skin was soft and delicate. You were pure— untouched— holy. He was afraid the discussion of his sins might be a bit too much for you to handle. 

Or maybe there was something more.

Maybe he was afraid that once he’d start opening up to you, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He wouldn’t be able to resist you.

“Aren’t you a little young?” The Mandalorian scoffed incredulously, bringing his leather gloved hand to his helmet, his thumb grazing the cloth between his chin and his neck. His rude manner didn’t surprise you at all, but yet, you kept a strong posture and held your head high.

“I’m old enough.” you declared, not ripping your gaze from him once. Even through the dark tinted visor of his helmet, it felt like you were looking into his eyes, staring deep into his soul. 

So, he agreed. You told him to wait in the confession box by the altar. “I won’t be long, I just have to lock up and turn out the lights.”

As you walked down the aisle, you lit a match and ignited some candles. They were tall and made from beeswax, and the flicking amber flames provided barely enough light. But it had to be enough. It had to do. The wax dripped down the sculptures and chambersticks, pooling into swirls of hardening ivory. 

The Mandalorian waited for you in the confession box, having already discarded the plates of his beskar armour. It was hard to wear, and heavy on his back, but he felt safe… here, with you. He had no reason to be still wearing it. No more fighting tonight, he hoped.

The image of you couldn’t escape his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Dirty thoughts — it was wrong of him. You were the Grand Bishop’s daughter for Heaven’s sake.

When you entered your side of the confession box, your full intention was to follow the ordinary strict protocol. There was no reason for distraction.

“State your name for the records,” you requested, shuffling around as you worked on getting comfortable in your chair.

“Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin. It was a beautiful name. Your mind immediately went to pairing his last name with your first name, and then you cursed yourself for the inappropriate thought. 

“Din,” his name left your lips like the sweetest tasting honey. “Why are you here today? What would you like to confess?”

“I went to Corellia over the weekend,” he announced, his voice cold through the modulator. “The bad part— well, it’s all bad over there,” he corrected himself before continuing. “Got into some trouble gambling at Lady Proxima’s casino and a bunch of white worms surrounded me. So I killed them, all of them. I didn’t have to. But I did. I murdered them in cold blood.”

It was in that moment you learned how dangerous of a man The Mandalorian was. His beskar armour was just as cold as his heart.

“Wh— why did you kill them?” you asked timidly, almost afraid to know the answer.

“For the release. The adrenaline. The feeling of power. I can’t escape it. Have you ever killed?”

“N—no.”

Din scoffed incredulously. “Of course you haven’t.”

“What do you do after you kill?” you inquired, hoping to change the subject.

“Corellia has the best brothels… cheap too. I sought them out and look for a quick fuck.”

“Out of wedlock?” you pondered with a queasy frown.

Din laughed. “You’re asking if I’m married?”

He was right, it was a foolish question. 

“Do you enjoy your time at the brothel? Or do you regret it soon after?” you wondered.

Another laugh— and Maker, he made you feel terrible. Were you really that bad at this? 

“Yes, I enjoy myself. The girls there are pretty little things. Needy. Desperate. But— it’s not special, you know? It’s not… not exactly what I crave.”

“What do you crave?”

“To touch someone untouched. Pure. Holy…” the Mandalorian trailed off. “So, when I fuck the girls at the brothel, I tend to think of the Grand Bishop’s daughter.” He revealed, feeling his cock harden in the confines of his pants at the memory. You swallowed, a wave of heat immediately washing over you. You. He was thinking about you.

This was ridiculous. Was he messing with you? He had to have been messing with you. Sure, he’d seen you around before but neither of you had even held a conversation, prior to today. And he’d been thinking about you while he was sleeping with other women? You had to suck it up and remain professional, no matter how much it irked you. He was here to confess and you couldn’t let this become personal.

But it was so hard. Maker, why was it this hard? Was it because you’d thought about him too? Because you’d imagined his cock in place of your fingers, at night when everyone else is sleeping? You yearned to know more. You ached to know the details. Surely that was fair. He was speaking about you, after all.

You could already feel your panties begin to dampen with arousal. How could one man have such an effect on you? In your place of worship too. You wanted to punch him, kick him, take out all your anger on him. But most importantly, you wanted him. His touch. His hands on your body and his cock splitting you open. That’s what you wanted the most.

“What did— what did you think of?” You swallowed, anticipating the details. You were glad he couldn’t see how flustered and hot you were right now. It certainly wasn’t in the code for you to ask about details such as this but… surely one question would do no harm.

You could just about hear Din chuckle, from the other side of the wall, and it made your slick wet cunt clench around absolutely nothing. He was driving you feral. “I’d think about her ruby red lips and how they’d look wrapped around my cock. I’d imagine fucking her mouth, making her gag— wanting her to cry. I’d want to see the tears stream down her cheeks as I give her my all. And finally, I’d imagine her letting me cum down her throat.”

There was something about him talking about you, to you, in third person. Like you weren’t supposed to be there, listening. Like this information was not made for your ears.

Your panties were soaked at the thought. You couldn’t believe it. All this time, all these sessions of confession with your father, and it had only stirred him on more. He’d been going to confess, only to see you. 

“Tell me, princess. How does that make you feel?”

Shit. He could not be serious right now. You placed your palm flat against the wall and took a deep breath. “Mando, you’re here to confess. Not me.”

You tried to shut out his words, but your body ached for him. Ached to feel him… touch him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you — but it would be wrong. It would be so wrong.

Another chuckle. You hated when he did that. As if all of this was some kind of joke to him. Did he even know what he was doing to you? It was like torture. 

“See, the Grand Bishop’s daughter… oh wow. She’s a vision. She dotes crimson red lips and she walks around as if she owns the place, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. She’s bad, like the devil in disguise, and yet, I know her. She’s young and untouched. Her father will probably marry her off to some other minister in the outer-rim, ship her away for good. And she’ll be forced to deal with very mediocre sex for the rest of her life. Which is a shame, really, because she deserves better. You deserve better.”

“You have no idea who I am.” you spat out, feeling your cheeks burn with rage. How dare he make these assumptions about you and your family. This crude, older man with a tongue that could kill. How dare he. 

You wanted to be mad at him so bad. He couldn’t possibly get away with this. But he was going to. Because what exactly could you do? 

“She’ll never know how it feels to be stretched open by a real cock,” Din gritted out, dismissing your comment completely. “F—fuck.”

Din was palming himself through his pants, desperate for some kind of release. His sleuth, dirty words set a fire blazing in your core. You wanted it too. You wanted it so bad. You contemplated all the things you could do, all the actions and their consequences. You and the Mandalorian, both in the confession box. You couldn’t even see one another… the prolonged silence on your end prompted Din to get up and leave when he heard your honey velvet voice speak once more.

You had to say something.

“When the lights are out and everyone is asleep, I think about you,” you confessed, hating the way the croaky admission left your lips. You’d done it now. Din’s head snapped upwards to face the wall and oh how he wished he could see you right now. You were squirming around in your chair and when you heard the zipper of his pants become undone, you knew it was your queue to continue. “I touch myself. It’s hard to keep quiet… thinking about you. I imagine you touching me… running your gloved hands all over my body,” you bring your hand to your breast and give it a little squeeze. “I figure.. maybe you don’t take the gloves off. You praise me when you feel how wet I am, and I tell you that it’s all for you. I’m all yours. To use however you like. I want you to ruin me. Spoil me for any other man. Fuck me until I cant walk. Bite me, give me marks I have to hide during tomorrow’s mass.”

Din made a fist around his cock and began to pump as he listened to the dirty words that left your holy lips. His grunts and groans echoed throughout the box and went straight to your core. Oh how you wished you could see him right now. Peeling up the hem of your robe, you slid your fingers under the waistband of your panties and began to rub tight circles into your clit. 

“You’re a virgin?” he asked, although it came out more so like a statement. Like he already knew the answer. 

“Ye-yeah,” you whimpered, quickening your pace.

He was achingly stiff now, beads of milky white precum already dripping down his shaft.

“You want this?” He quizzed. “You want my cock right now? Think you deserve it?”

And in that moment, you made your decision.

Maybe this life that your father had given you, just wasn’t for you.

“Y-yes, oh God yes. I deserve it.”

A low and dark chuckle left Din’s lips. “You’ve been a child of God your whole life. But you want this, yes? You’ve been waiting for this?”

He was right. You had been waiting for this. 

“P-please Din, please. Wreck me. Ruin me.”

“In the chapel too?” he laughed, rising to his feet. “You really are desperate. C’mon then.”

In a fluster, you practically fell out of your side of the confession box.

The Mandalorian stalked towards you with his cock in his hand, jerking himself off as he got nearer and nearer. His eyes didn’t leave you once and although you couldn’t see his face, you could only imagine the predatory glint in his eye. Maker he was huge, and thick, and you wondered how you’d ever be able to take him.

You weren’t used to this— Maker, you’d never done anything like this before. There was no way your fingers would ever be able to compare to the size of the Mandalorian. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he grunted, releasing his cock and grabbing your throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. You nodded your head desperately and subconsciously licked your lower lip. “I must know. If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Do you want me to claim you?”

Just like Hades claimed Persephone? You shut the absent thought out of your mind and agreed to his proposition.

“I do.”

If it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? You had dreamt of this moment. How could you ever deny him? 

He pinned you against the altar and tapped at your thigh, gesturing for you to open your legs up. His eyes dropped straight to your dripping core and he had to hold back a guttural moan.

Din wasted no time and rubbed his cock along your slick wet folds. For a second you were afraid he’d knock over the many burning candles that you had lit earlier in the evening, before your little confession session had begun. But, to no surprise of your own, the Mandalorian had extremely good coordination. 

“Oh f-fuck, such a pretty little thing. So warm, bet— bet you feel so fucking good.” Din mumbled utterances of praise, his grip tightening around your wrists as he propped you up. 

Every now and again the bulbous tip of his cock rubbed over your clit and the sensation practically sent you into orbit. You were touch starved, having never experienced intimacy like this with anyone before. “Do you want me to fuck you now, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty little cunt of yours?”

You whimpered a small ‘yes’ and Din chuckled darkly, tapping his cock against your cunt before sliding into you with one swift movement.

You let out a squeal, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he seated deep inside you. Underneath his helmet, his perfect lips were parted into an ‘O’ shape as your fluttering walls clenched around him and made him feel like he was home.

“Fuck— so tight, so fucking tight. Just like I’d imagined.” He murmured, feeling like he was already seeing stars. 

Din thrust upwards into you, the curve of his cock stretching you open and pulsating inside of you. His movements were rough and bruising, as his fingers dug into the soft flesh at your hips as he held onto you for support. Just like you’d requested, he was completely and utterly using you. 

“How’s that?” his gasp rolled into an achingly long groan as his balls slapped against your cunt, creating the most obscene wet sounds.

It was uncomfortable at first. He wasn’t soft or gentle by any means, but you’d anticipated that. After just a few thrusts, the intrusive pain turned into bolts of pleasure that coursed through your veins. It clouded your vision like white noise— like what the red berry wine you’d drink during Sunday mass would do to your mind. Din grabbed at the thin cloth that covered your chest, and ripped it off, exposing your bare breasts to him. A sheen of glistening sweat glazed your skin like the most beautiful honey dew. The Mandalorian was tall and broad, and as he towered over you, he coated you in his dark shadow.

His large hands palmed at your breasts and you moaned at the sudden, unexpected contact. He continued thrusting, fucking you mercilessly. With every movement, he hit that sweet spot inside of you, and you knew he’d been doing this for a long time. He was definitely experienced.

He dropped his hand for your chest and lowered it to your clit, expertly moving his two fingers across your bundle of nerves. That feeling, combined with his thick cock, was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” you chanted his name like it was a prayer— and he felt powerful.

The Mandalorian grinned wolfishly under his helmet as he increased his speed. You were seeing stars and it felt like your whole body was trapped under a spell. His spell.

“I ca- oh I can’t, I’m close, I’m close,” you cried as he continued to rock his hips into yours.

You hugged his body into yours, wishing the pleasure would never end. With every twitch of his cock he watched you intently. He watched the way your body reacted to him, revelling in the way your face screwed up in heated pleasure. Din adored the way your brow knitted together and your mouth parted as the most angelic noises omitted from your plush lips. 

“Have you ever felt so alive than you do right now, with me inside of you?” Din queried with a grunt.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head profusely. “Please don’t stop.”

Your orgasm ripped through you like a tornado and without warning, The Mandalorian split his seed deep inside of you, his salty cum roping your perfect walls as they gripped down around his cock. Now he had marked you for life.

Din returned to confession a week later when your father had returned from the Festival of Lights. There was no reason for you to see The Mandalorian anymore. 

“Forgive me, Grand Bishop, for I have sinned yet again.” Din announced, his voice clear as daylight after discarding his beskar helmet. He ran a gloved hand over his face.

“Another kill?” your father inquired, but from the other side of the wall, Din could only smirk.

“I’ve met a woman. A holy woman. And she has consumed my every thought. When I think about her I feel more inclined to sin, over and over again.” 

It was true. Your ruby red lips, high heels, thin robes… Din had become completely enraptured with you. 

Your father spent a moment contemplating the Mandalorian’s words, finding that he was speaking a lot differently than ever before. Not as ruthless or dangerous— but almost genuine.

“Would you give your body to this holy woman, if she requested you do so?” The Grand Bishop asked, not realising he was speaking about you, his own daughter.

“I already have,” Din confessed, subconsciously licking a stripe over his lower lip, at the memory of your taste. “And I would do it again.”

-—-—-—♡—-—-—-

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[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 7 (Final)

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 6

Length: 4000 words

Trigger warnings: blood, mentions of loss

A. note: Scaramouche is my favourite character in the game and I really love him. But I couldn't help and feel awful when he said those words in Inazuma. Look, I don't think that Mihoyo is gonna let the huge opportunity slip and not make him playable (for which we need to have at least a tiny bit of friendship with him and well, right now mc straight up hates him) but in case that does happen, in case he doesn't get a redemption arc, I made one myself. I wrote this to redeem him in my own, and hopefully your eyes as well. I hope you enjoyed reading this story of that little bastard as much as I enjoyed writing it.

It was fair to say that Scaramouche was stunned by the sight of the local people.

Certainly not because he suddenly grew fond of them. It was rather because the way they appeared out of blue when little Yu gave them a sign. She let out three short whistles and the forest came to life in front of the harbinger.

Old men and woman, little children and whole families walked towards them. It was clear even for Scaramouche that they looked uneasy and hostile. They surely wouldn’t have appeared in front of the fatui if it wasn’t for Yu.

The sixth harbinger was astonished.

Because they would trust someone, especially a child so much.

Because there were so many of them.

He counted the people walking towards Yu. Way more than he’d thought there would be.

These people were injured, dirty and exhausted. But they were alive. And all because of one person.

‘Impressive’ he thought to himself.

Yu talked to them, explaining why the fatui was there and promising that they’re not in danger any more. The people seemed less at ease in his presence now but the harbinger still felt the piercing gazes. If looks could’ve killed he would have been dead in an instant.

He knew they all blamed him for the things that had happened. Maybe they even thought he was the one who made the abbys attack their village.

But Scaramouche got used to these types of glances during the years and he did not care about them any more. All that mattered was that they were able to help.

He stood behind little Yu who was still clinging onto her doll. Scaramouche stared at the bloodstains on the toy as she asked the people of Qingce to help find you.

The thought to promise them money crossed his mind but the instantly threw it away. He just somehow felt that it would be very wrong.

These people won’t help him because he can pay them. They won’t help because Yu asked them to either. They will help because you had been guarding them for years.

Mentioning your name caused them to stir up, to get loud and the all of a sudden the whole crowd was ready to go and search in the mountains.

It was obvious how much they loved and respected you. Maybe even more than Scaramouche used to, he realized.

Yu turned to him and nodded.

‘I think we can go now.’

‘How are you going to search everything?’ the harbinger asked as he crouched down to the child. It wasn’t needed since he wasn’t much taller than her but it felt like the right thing to do.

Yu’s eyes wandered to the hat. She reached out and gently touched it.

Scaramouche normally would’ve ended the person who messed with his hat but when the child did it, he somehow felt no urge to do so.

‘It’s because so many people are watching’ he explained to himself. But it still felt a bit weird not being annoyed.

He cleared his throat so Yu would focus on him again.

‘We know this place well’ she answered, letting her arms fall back to her side. ‘We will split up and warn each other if we find something.’

‘My people are out too.’

‘Then call them back.’

The harbinger glared at the child. She really was fearless, wasn’t she, huh. First touching his hat and now disrespecting the fatui.

‘You know…’ he crossed his brows as he began to speak but Yu quickly cut him off.

‘Everyone is afraid of them. And they’ll just be in the way. They don’t know the mountains, do they?’

Scaramouche clenched his teeth together. But he had to admit that the girl was right.

He stood up and walked towards the agents standing by a nearby bridge. They were there since the people appeared to make sure they don’t try to do anything to their harbinger.

He gestured to bring them closer then stood and crossed his arms.

‘First, I want to know how a big group of fatui agents were unable to find anyone when there was a whole village hiding in the forest’ he questioned them with a glare.

The agents were bowing already but now they bowed even deeper.

‘F-forgive us, our lord!’ a pyro agent answered. ‘They’re locals and we…’

‘Spare your apologies, I don’t care.’

Scaramouche closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh. He really didn’t care, he only snapped at them to let out a little frustration.

‘Call back everyone from the mountains. And let these people do what they want. Anyone who disturbs them in any way shall be punished.’

‘But my lord…’

‘Do as I say!’

Scaramouche turned his back to them and the agents hurried away. He watched as the people of Qingce split up and began their search in the forest, around the destroyed village.

He looked up to the mountains. Clouds hid the most of them, they were so huge, so high. And there were so many places you could be.

Was is it even possible that you were alive?

Scaramouche never lied to himself and this was the first time he wanted to. He simply just didn’t want to accept the small chances of finding you. He wanted to feel hope.

‘You better be alive, Y/n’ he muttered to himself. ‘For your own sake.’

For his sake.

*

‘Have you taken a look around in that cave too?’

‘I haven’t but I can go if…’

‘Stay.’

Scaramouche climbed to the cave and looked into the hole. It was smaller than it seemed from below and inside it there was absolutely nothing.

He quietly let himself down. He jumped on a bigger stone on the path under him, the bells violently jingling on his hat.

Little Yu asked nothing. It was obvious from the harbinger’s expression that he found nothing.

The air began to feel a little chilly in the mountains. The sun was getting ready to go down and let the moon take its place.

They’ve spent their whole day with searching. They’ve found absolutely nothing so far.

There were a lot of traces left behind the abbys order and the monsters. It was also clear that the fight continued outside of the village as well. Corpses of dead monsters bordered the narrow paths.

But your body was nowhere to be find.

Scaramouche looked up to the sky. The first star had already appeared. And with that, their last piece of hope started to slip away.

‘We haven’t looked there yet.’

The harbinger snapped out of his dark thoughts and glanced at the child in front of him. She pointed at a smaller mountain nearby.

‘That’s very far away from the village’ Scaramouche claimed. ‘We’d be just wasting our time.’

‘Then where do you want me to go?’ Yu asked.

The man let out a sigh. She was right, they’ve already looked through every bush and searched every rock on this mountain.

He started walking towards the other one without saying anything, and Yu silently followed him.

In the valley below them, lots of figures were moving and changing places. The locals still haven’t given up even though it was getting colder and darker with every passing moment.

A red dot appeared. Then another. They started lighting torches.

Scaramouche felt like choking. He touched his throat and fastened his steps.

He tried to banish the horrifying thoughts from his head but his desperate tries were unsuccessful.

You’re dead. They’re only going to find a cold body and not you. You’re dead and it is his fault.

He shook his head to quiet the voices and to get back into focusing on his search.

This made him realize that he hadn’t seen little Yu in a while. Scaramouche stopped and turned his head to check on the girl.

She was behind him a few meters away. Her movements were too slow to keep up with the harbinger’s.

‘Are you coming or not?’ The man growled at her. ‘Hurry up.’

‘Sorry…’ She was out of breath, quietly panting. ‘You can leave me behind. I know I’m just slowing you down.’

Scaramouche rose his brows at the young child who was not even tall enough to reach the ground from a bigger rock. Was she really that aware? What should he do now? Just leave her here? He was willing to do that, to be honest. The sun was about to completely disappear.

Yu grabbed the side of the rock. She let her feet down, trying to get down safely but she was too tired – the little girl stumbled and fell.

Scaramouche didn’t even realize he was reaching out – but a moment later he found himself holding the child in his own arms.

They stared at each other, the sixth Fatui Harbinger and the kid from Liyue. It was impossible to tell who was more surprised, the one holding or the one being held.

But it was the man who found his voice first.

‘Don’t think I’m gonna carry you like this to the other mountain.’

‘I didn’t think that’ she answered quietly.

Scaramouche cleared his throat and opened his lips. But before any other words could’ve come out of his mouth, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

They both jerked their heads up.

The sound was coming from below, south to the village.

The whistle was repeated – two short, two long ones.

‘They’ve found her’ Yu said.

*

Scaramouche had no memories of how he got down from the top of the mountain.

All he remembered was the crazy pace of his heartbeat. The darkness invading his head. That terrific feeling clenching his heart, incredible, deep fear he’s never experienced before.

There were many people standing in his way in front of a big cave. He pushed them away as he rushed to get closer.

It was dark. Everyone stood with a torch in their hands. He heard the whispers but the words were incomprehensiblenext to the loud beating of his own heart. There were figures but they were blurry, everything was blurry…

Until he saw you.

You were laying on the ground. Your body completely still, your chest not rising nor sinking. Your clothes torn, bloody.

There was so much blood.

He stumbled and fell on his knees in front of you. A local turned to him and spoke but he understood nothing. His hand was shaking as he reached out to touch you.

You were… cold.

He forgot how to breathe and just stared down at your body. Your messy hair hid your face and that just didn’t feel right.

Why was this happening?!

Everything was supposed to become alright after they’ve found you!

How dare you be dead, how dare you not wake up to his touch, to his wishes, to all wishes around you…!

‘Balladeer!’

He snapped out of the blurriness when someone grabbed his arm. An old lady with a serious look tried to pull him back.

‘Let go of me!’ he hissed, pushing her away. He groaned when the grip became stronger instead on his arm. Pain in his heart and body blinded him as he shouted. ‘I said, let go of me or else…’

‘Please stay out of the way of my people’ the lady asked in a calm tone. ‘She needs serious help.’

‘What help can you provide when she’s dead?!’ he screamed at her in a hoarse voice. ‘You stay away from her!’

‘Please calm down. Y/n is not dead… yet.’

Scaramouche slowly closed his eyes. The words echoed in his head.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead. She’s not dead. Yet.

He took a deep, shaking breath. The cold air in his lungs cooled him off a little.

You were alive. But also, only barely. He finally understood what that meant. But he couldn’t let himself feel any relief nor fear…

He was a harbinger, he was part of the Fatui under the rule of the almighty Tsaritsa. He was Scaramouche, the Balladeer who simply could not allow himself to show any vulnerability in front of mere mortals.

Even if it was about you.

Even if he wasn’t the same person any more.

‘Bring a healer’ he said in a lower tone.

‘We don’t have any vision bearers among us’ the lady answered. ‘But we’ll do everything to keep her alive.’

Scaramouche nodded and stood up. It took a lot of strength to tear his eyes from you but he forced himself to do it and turned around.

‘Alert my people and tell them to give you all that you need’ he told the locals as he fixed his hat. ‘Tents, medicine, food, everything.’

The people stood there in silence for a few seconds, not knowing whether to obey him. They only moved when the old lady from before thanked him. Then they finally set off towards the village.

Scaramouche wanted to turn back and take a glance at you one more time to make sure you’re really there and not just a hallucination. But suddenly little Yu appeared in his sight and that made him stay.

‘She’s alive’ the girl whispered. The mask she had worn so far finally broke and her expression was an expression of a little child. She seemed tired, sad and a little happy. ‘I’m so glad… Scara.’

The harbinger nodded and closed his eyes for a moment. His heart was still beating fast with fear but those heavy weights on his shoulders finally started getting lighter.

He felt something touching his hand and he opened his eyes to the sight of Yu holding onto him.

This type of physical connection was very far away from what Scaramouche would tolerate coming from a human but he felt way too tired to resist. He just let the little girl clench his pinkie and they both watched silently as some helpers grabbed your body and moved it to a safer place.

*

You felt like something that had been sitting on your chest for a while finally moved. Something even bigger, a huge, scary type of darkness slowly left your body.

It left you with the first breath you were aware of taking in a long time.

You let out a small sigh. And opened your eyes.

There was a fabric cover above you.

You were in a tent, safe and sound. Alive.

The first thing you noticed was the temperature. It was warm, welcoming and comforting. Lot of soft blankets covered your body which hurt badly but the pain was dim.

You tried to look around but your head was too heavy. You could barely tip your head to the side.

But the sight was worth it.

Your breath was taken away one more time. You just stared in silence and you could feel your eyes widen in shock.

‘You’re awake.’

Scaramouche closed the book he was reading and looked at you with a straight face.

‘Finally.’

He put the book down with a slow movement.

Mixed emotions invaded you. You fell from relief to happiness to fright in a span of a few seconds. You were alive and Scaramouche was here with you, but – why did he seem so distant? Was he still angry at you even after everything that had happened?

You almost let fear overrun you. Almost.

But your gaze fell on his hands and he couldn’t hide his true feelings from you any more. His hands were visibly trembling as he still held onto his book.

Little did you know he could have not read a single word written in the last couple of hours. He just sat there and watched over your sleep, not dozing off for even a second himself.

The shaking of his hands became even more obvious and he couldn’t hold himself back any more.

He moved closer and placed his trembling palms next to the sides of your body. He looked down on you from above and as you stared back at him, you could clearly see something that wasn’t there before.

The usual cold, emotionless blur was nowhere to be found in his dark eyes. Instead, there was pain. And a lot of it.

‘How dare you do this to me?’

During the years of your relationship, he’s grown to be comfortable in your presence but he never ever showed any signs of vulnerability in front of you and you just accepted that it’s probably never going to happen.

It was shocking, almost scary seeing him like this.

The desperate expression on his face softened and he let his head plop on your shoulders.

‘Scara’ you whispered. Your voice was hoarse and dry but it was your voice. You were able to speak.

The realization of how unlikely your survival was suddenly hit you and your eyes teared up.

‘Scara, I… I really thought I was gonna die…’

‘Then you’re stupid’ he answered, speaking into the blankets covering your shoulder. ‘You should know that you can’t die without my permission.’

You laughed through your tears. They streamed down on your face, straight into your ears. But even that felt so good. Crying was a sign of being alive from the very beginning of life and you never understood that so much than at that time.

‘Don’t… leave me ever again.’

You didn’t event think, the words just left your mouth.

‘Don’t worry.’ Scaramouche finally got himself together enough to sit up and at least pretend that he was alright. ‘You have successfully proved you’re not capable of taking after yourself so now I’m definitely stuck babysitting you till the rest of our lives.’

His movements said otherwise though. The way he caressed your cheek to dry the tears up showed that he’s not just stuck. He wantsto stay.

Just what kind of thinks did he go through in the past days? – the question occurred to you.

To think about it… why did he even come back? How did he hear what happened? And your people?! Were they safe?

So many questions echoed in your head and you couldn’t even put most of them into words that made sense. So opened your mouth and quietly asked:

‘What happened?’

‘I want to know the same’ he said. ‘What happened? How did you get so far away from the village? How are you alive in the first place?’

You thought back to the night. Pain stabbed you instantly and you had to close your eyes for a moment to calm it.

‘I don’t remember much. But I think the abbys wanted to take me with them. Is that… possible?’

‘I heard all kinds of things about them’ Scaramouche nodded. ‘It is very possible. Continue.’

‘There isn’t much to say… Obviously I tried to resist but there were too many of them. They probably realized I would be just a burden. I remember a mage knocking me out. But they didn’t kill me…’

‘Well, given your injuries, they must’ve thought there’s not a lot of time left for you. It really is a miracle that you’re alive.’ Scara stated. ‘And you were in that wet cave for an entire day too. You were nearly dead when we found you.’

‘We?’

You stared at him and your heartbeat dropped.

‘You mean…’

‘Yes’ he sighed. ‘That people of yours.’

He went silent for a moment then rolled his eyes.

‘They helped me out… I guess.’

‘So they’re all alive and safe?’ you asked and couldn’t help but laugh in relief. ‘That is so amazing! Thank you, Scara!’

‘Thank yourself, idiot’ he snorted. ‘You were the one who kept a whole abbys army away from them after all.’

The harbinger shook his head.

‘I hate that you were so reckless to do that… but I have to say I’m impressed. We should spar again sometimes.’

‘Aren’t you afraid you’re getting your ass kicked?’ you grinned.

‘I compliment you one time and you get this cocky?’ he crossed his eyebrows. ‘I have to put you back into your place, I see.’

You laughed and as you were finally strong enough to move a little, you grabbed his hand. He had to oppress his smile with force.

‘And how did you know… we were going to be attacked?’

The question made his task much easier. The harbinger’s face turned back to being serious once again.

‘I have my connections’ he answered briefly. ‘But you don’t have to worry, the fatui had nothing to do with the attack.’

‘I would never think that’ you rushed to make your words clear. ‘I just… hope that my people feel the same.’

Scara shrugged. Then averted his eyes as he thought of someone.

‘I don’t know about the others but there’s one person who clearly does.’

‘Who?’

‘That girl… Yu or whatever her name is.’

You stared at him in surprise. You’d never thought the day would come where he mentions a child and doesn’t frown. And to think that it’s Yu as well! Yu who was normally wary of strangers and such a gentle child…

Just what happened to him? – you asked yourself again.

You searched for answers in his eyes but it seemed like there were things that even this new type of Scaramouche, this more vulnerable and open one wouldn’t tell.

But it was alright. Maybe you didn’t need to know. You were just happy to be there and experience it yourself.

‘How is Yu?’ you asked.

‘Alright’ Scara muttered.

‘Her mother?’

‘Oh, her… Well…’

He hesitated for a moment and that was enough. Every good and warm feeling was instantly replaced by cold ones and you found yourself sitting up in dread.

‘Please tell me… She’s not…’

‘Hey, don’t sit up! Lie back right now!’

When you didn’t obey, Scaramouche pushed you back with his own hands. He was right, your body started aching terribly from moving and the physical pain almost outgrew the pain in your heart.

‘Is she…’

‘Yu’s fine. Don’t worry.’

‘No! I need to talk to her!’

‘You won’t.’

You clenched your teeth together in despair and Scara flinched. He saw himself in you when you did that. Earlier this day his expression was still this full of pain.

‘Scaramouche!’ you said, calling him by his first name which he suddenly realized, he hated more than that stupid nickname. ‘I will go and talk to her and you can’t stop me!’

‘I…’

‘Just think about everything you felt while I was missing! I know you don’t want me to go away again but you need to understand.’

‘All I’m trying…’

‘Maybe I really am cocky to think that it was painful to you but if I’m not and it really was, then just imagine that Yu feels like that too right now. And on top of that, she has no hope whatsoever. She knows that her mother is dead and there’s no…’

‘Oh, to Celestia, can you shut up for a moment?’ Scara interrupted you harshly. Then he frowned and quickly continued. ‘What I was about to say is that under no circumstances should you get up with these injuries. But you can talk to Yu.’

‘I can…?’

‘Yes, idiot. I’ll call her over.’

You stared at him in silence.

‘You’d… do that?’

‘Yes.’

‘So… you won’t mind if she stays with us?’

‘I guess not?’

‘Not even for a long time?’

‘I said no, stop asking these stupid questions.’

You were speechless and just gazed at him without saying anything for a long time.

You had mixed feelings about the Scara you woke up to so far. But this had finally convinced you that he really has changed into something better.

A slow smile formed on your lips. It grew bigger and bigger and it completely lit your face up.

‘You’re grinning like an idiot’ Scara claimed but nothing, not even his salty remarks could take away your happiness any more.

‘Scara, I really love you.’

‘You better do.’

He stood up and turned away as quickly as he could to try and hide the blush on his face. He knew if you saw that, you’d be teasing him about it till the rest of your lives together.

You were still grinning “like an idiot” as he was rushing to leave the tent. But even though he was in hurry, before he’d stepped out, he made sure to turn back and say:

‘I’ll be back.’

[13uswntimagines]

Love You or Lose You (Alpha Soran x Omega Reader)

Request: This is the first part to the Prequel for Playing with Fire. Its right after the 2016 Olympics, and R missed the PK instead of Christen. Things have been rough with her Alphas and she just needs a fresh Start. Barca might be the start she was after, but her mates might not like that too much... Especially when she leaves in the middle of the night. 

Basically 4000 words of Lindsey and Emily being idiots, R being sad and Preath and Kellex being worried. 

The air was heavy in the locker room, pressing into you like an anvil settled on your soul. You could remember a time when you had felt at home here. Like you belonged here.  

A time when Lindsey and Emily had actually loved you, and you didn’t feel like an unneeded (or wanted) burden on the national team (more like your family). 

You shook your head, tucking your frame tighter into the small locker that belonged to your most dominant alpha, pulling a leftover sweater tighter against your face. 

No. The locker that belonged to Lindsey. She wasn’t your alpha anymore, she had said so herself, but your inner omega still cried out for her and Emily nonetheless. A fight didn’t change the marks on your neck, or what your inner animal knew to be true. 

Yet it changed everything if the unbearable pain ripping through your chest was anything to go by. 

Another sob left your lips, muffled only slightly by the heavy material of Lindsey’s sweatshirt that smelled distinctly like both her and Emily. It did little to ease your instincts, but you would take whatever you could get right now. 

There was no reason to hold back your tears, there was no one else there to see them anyway. No one who would come looking for the source of the distressed pheromones you were emitting. No one to care that you were falling apart. It didn’t matter that you were all in the same city. 

They were all too busy trying to process their own issues from the loss. The loss you knew fell squarely on your shoulder. If only you had made that PK, none of this would have happened. 

You shuttered at the mix of emotions trickling down your mating bond. Lindsey’s anger and Emily’s clear frustration. You gulped pushing against their emotions with an overwhelming wave of your own. You willed as much calm as you could muster down the bond-forming a little barrier between your omega and their alphas, and shoved your own despair as far away from it as you could. 

The block wouldn’t hold forever, but it would do the job for now. Bonds were a bitch to shut down completely, and a permanent block was going to have to be something you figured out later. 

Your inner omega growled, digging her claws into your brain. While the human side of your head got why you were doing this, your animal side was loath to deny your alphas the privilege of your deepest emotions. Especially when she thought they could fix it if they knew. 

You let out a little whimper at the sound of the door, tucking yourself tighter into a ball as footsteps approached.

“Hey, Kid just thought I’d let you know your Uber is here,” 

You peeked out at the kind voice, semi soothing scent, and worried eyes of the athletic. You tried to smile at the woman, but you knew she wasn’t fooled. She knew you too well for that. 

“Thanks Bailey,” You sniffled, easing into a sitting position and turning to fully face the woman, and running a hand through your wild hair (only making it messier than it was before). 

“I’m gonna miss you kid,” She said, and you could tell that she wanted to say more. But both of you knew it wouldn’t change anything. The deal was done and you couldn’t find it within yourself to regret it. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, but you know I can’t stay,” 

She nodded, she would have left too if she was in your shoes. Barça was making lemonade out of rotten lemons. 

You took another gulping breath into Lindsey’s sweatshirt before shoving it into your backpack, and standing. Your eyes strayed towards the other lockers around you, landing on several items of clothing left by your friends. 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” She grumbled under her breath as she headed towards the door. 

“No, it doesn’t,” You breathed out, heading towards the various lockers instead of the door. 

Leaving here would be like leaving a part of your soul behind. Your fingers traced over the wooden panels that outlined each locker. You only paused twice. Once outside Emily’s locker to steal a coveted Virginia soccer t-shirt and again at Tobin’s taking a re-inc sweater that you knew Christen wore more than Tobin and a LFG t-shirt that smelled distinctly like Kellex. 

The quad (as the national team called them) were your team moms, and their scents all comforted you. They would make whatever apartment you ended up in in Barça feel like home. 

Bailey raised her eyebrow at you as you stuffed the items into your backpack. You just shrugged. “they won’t miss them anyway,” 

It was true, and even if it wasn’t you were sure Chris would still back you up when she found out exactly why you left. 

You paused at the door, taking one last glance around the room, looking for some sign to stay. You rubbed your chest when another wave of negative emotions from your mates passed through your bond. 

You cleared your throat and shook your head at Bailey’s raised eyebrows. The weight in your chest told you that you were making exactly the right move. 

She sighed, leading you towards the loading bay where your Uber was waiting. 

“Thank you… for everything,” You said softly, pulling the older omega into a tight hug. She knew you meant more than walking you to the car park. She was there for you when no one else was, and you would be eternally grateful for all she had done for you. 

She held you for a long moment, rocking you side to side before pulling back to hold you at arm's length. “You got it, kid. Be safe and text me when you land alright?” 

You gave her a nod and a tight smile. “Look after them?” 

She rolled her eyes. If those two idiots had done anything even close to what they had done to you to her, she wouldn’t have been nearly as forgiving as you seemed to be. 

Then again you were also moving to Spain. 

“Of course,” She said, shoeing you towards the car. 

She would make sure they were very informed on how you were doing. 

****

Christen knew that there was something wrong. Very wrong. Before her phone even dinged. She could feel it in her bond with you. The torrent of emotions that had suddenly shifted into a calm she had never felt from you before. 

The bond the two of you shared was a special one, forged the moment she had laid eyes on you (even more special than the one you shared with her mates). The second your small, skittish form had entered the dining hall (tucked carefully under Emily's arm) her omega had claimed you as its pup, and you latched onto her quiet calm nature without a second thought. 

She knew you almost as well as your mates knew you, and the bond you shared (while different) was nearly as strong. And therefore your bond with the rest of the quad was also relatively strong. 

For an unknown reason, it was keeping her awake. It was like her omega was waiting for a sign, something to tell her that you were safe and sound. 

She practically jumped out of her skin at the ding of her phone, fumbling to unlock the screen and find the message you had sent her. 

She froze when her alpha shifted against her, inadvertently jostling the two omega’s attached to her other side. 

“Wha- appened?” Tobin mumbled, nuzzling into her stomach. Christen sighed at the wave of soothing scents that Tobin let off, trying to calm her nerves even in sleep. 

“Shh, baby bear is texting me. Go back to sleep,” Christen said, scratching the alphas scalp gently with one hand and pulling up the text with the other. 

She blinked at the bright screen once, twice, three times. 

It was five words, cold and emotionless. It reminded her of the call marines made to their parents when they went to boot camp. 

Landed in Spain. I’m fine. 

She couldn’t help her sharp intake of breath at the singular line, or the anxiety that suddenly engulfed her heart (immediately jolting all 3 of her mates awake). 

Before she could even blink she was moved onto Tobin’s lap, and Alex and Kelley cuddled tightly into either side of her. She could feel their concern flowing down their bond, and their efforts to comfort even though they had no idea what had caused such a strong response. 

“What’s up with baby bear?” Tobin said, gently rocking from side to side. 

Christen’s mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to parse out what emotions were hers, what emotions were coming from her mating bond, and the irritating calm that was coming from her bond with you. 

“I…-I don’t,” She stuttered, unable to skate the feeling that there was something very bad behind the steadfast wall you had thrown up in your bond. 

“Give me that,” Kelley half growled, pulling the phone out from Christen’s loose grip. 

She didn’t like to be woken up in the middle of the night, and she would kill your mates if you were texting Christen because of something stupid they did. You had sent them way too many texts like that already if she was honest.

“What the fuck?” She breathed out when her eyes landed on the words. This was so much worse than Soran being dumbasses. 

“What?” Alex asked, yanking the phone away from Kelley. 

Be nice,” Tobin chastised lightly, leaning over to read the words that had sent her most dominant omega mate into a tailspin. 

She frowned at the bright screen, trying to remember the last time the two of you had really talked. Had you mentioned moving to Spain in passing? Had she just blown it off? 

A charged silence hung between them. They all knew you were taking the loss hard, and that you and your mates were struggling to work your way through the slew of emotions that came with it. But they never imagined it would come to this. That you would literally flee the country. 

“This is a joke right?” Kelley asked, her voice cracking. 

“It’s gotta be,” Alex mumbled in disbelief. You were her cuddle buddy, her baby bear. You couldn’t have left the country without saying goodbye first. 

“I’m going to find out,” Christen said finally, taking back her phone. 

She bit her lip, pressing your contact picture and holding the phone to her ear. It rang once and then went voicemail. She frowned, shaking her head at her mates, ending the call. Maybe you accidentally pressed the wrong button. 

She pressed your contact photo a second time. 

Again it rang once and went to voicemail. It definitely wasn’t a coincidence this time, and she would bet anything that the boring automated greeting that came on instead of your goofy one wasn’t a coincidence either. 

She sighed, waiting for the beep. “Hey kiddo, um I got your text and I thought we could have a check-in maybe? Call me back when you can,” She paused, unsure of how to finish. She didn’t think anything she said would ease the ache in her chest. “we love you,” 

“Call Lindsey,” Tobin said firmly, an order lurking just below the words. If you weren’t going to give them answers, then your alphas better be ready to explain what the fuck was going on. 

*****

Lindsey didn’t quite know what she expected when she picked up the phone, but it wasn’t a very annoyed Christen Press on the other side. 

Well, maybe she expected it a little bit (she knew you would go to the quad after the argument. You always went to the quad), but she never imagined the words that would come out of your team mom’s mouth. 

“Whoa, slow down. She said she’s where?” Lindsey said, sitting up off of Emily’s shoulder where she had been leaning. 

“Spain, she said she landed in Spain,” Emily could barely make out Christen’s worried voice through the phone over Lindsey’s low growl. 

“There’s no way!” The more dominant alpha barked, baring her teeth just slightly. 

Maybe she had said some things she shouldn’t have, but you wouldn’t just run off to another country without telling them. She pushed down her hurt and settled for frustration instead. 

Emily scooched away from Lindsey slightly, rubbing her ear. “Babe, if you’re going to be this loud at 3 am, at least turn on speakerphone.” She felt odd, her bond unusually unbalanced. She could feel the torrent of emotions running through Lindsey, but your side of the bond was silent. It had never been silent before. 

The two of you had known each other since you were in diapers, and your bond reflected that. She should have felt something. While you weren’t always outwardly expressive, you felt everything deeply, and vividly. You were the fire to Lindsey’s flood, and for your usual smoldering flame of emotions to just be snuffed out felt wrong.  

The two alphas shared a look before Lindsey gave in and gave a short nod, pressing the little button. Emily had just as much a right to know what was happening as she did, but she still didn’t like being ordered around. 

“You’re on speaker Chris,” Lindsey grumbled. She wrapped an arm around Emily and pulled her closer.

 “What did you two idiots do to our baby bear?” Christen’s voice came out in a growl, the sound low and dangerous. 

Lindsey stiffened, her alpha bristling more than it normally would at the tone. “We didn’t do anything.” 

Emily nuzzled into her neck, trying to help her settle the mix of anger, pain and shock flowing through their bond. Just because she couldn’t feel you, didn’t mean that you couldn’t feel them. 

You were not some innocent party here. Lindsey hadn’t meant all the things she said, but then you had said some pretty hurtful things too. 

Tobin’s voice through the phone was low and clear, holding an air of dominance she rarely let out. “Watch who you’re growling at.” 

Lindsey gulped. She was never very good at controlling her emotions, especially when things went wrong. It was easier to respond with anger than to admit she was vulnerable sometimes. But she really didn’t want to have a fight with Tobin, not when they both knew she would lose.  

“And don’t give us that bullshit!” Both alphas winced at Kelley’s tone. The Omega had the parental tone of disapproval down to an art. She could have been one of their parents, scolding their irresponsibility for mating you before any of you were older than 21 (Emily’s mom had been angry enough to make up for your parents’ lack of care). Emily was sure her mother had used the exact same tone. 

“We had a fight,” Emily sighed, leaning deeper into Lindsey. It was more than a fight. It was an explosion of stubborn communication that had ended in you walking out. 

“A stupid fight. We’ll call her and have it all patched up by tomorrow,” Lindsey added, pinching the bridge of her nose. Why were omegas so frustrating? 

“She left the fucking country. I don’t think getting her back is going to be so easy,” Alex said, and both women could practically hear her eye roll. 

All six of them knew how stubborn you were, and getting you to listen was going to be far from a cakewalk. 

Lindsey huffed. “Camp is in like 2 days. If worst comes to worst, we’ll just talk to her there.” If you wouldn’t answer their phone calls, then they would just corner you at camp. You weren’t good at maintaining the silent treatment when they were both in front of you. And Lindsey still wasn’t convinced this wasn't more than an overblown tantrum. 

“She put a block in our bond Linds,” Christen said sternly, trying to break through the more dominant alphas shell. 

Sure the three of you had had arguments before, but whatever this was, it was fundamentally different. 

Lindsey frowned. You would never do that to Christen. The two of you were too close for that. At least that’s what she thought. 

“We’ll get to the bottom of it. We promise,” Emily said softly, already pulling out her phone. Now hopefully she would be able to get you to answer on the other side. 

“Good luck, you’re going to need it,” Tobin grumbled, hanging up. 

If those two idiots didn’t fix it, she was going to let Kelley unleash her wrath on them. 

Emily bit her lip as she pressed your contact picture (a photo of the two of you with bright 4-year-old smiles covered in brownie batter). It rang 4 times before going to voicemail. 

Emily could imagine you staring at the screen, debating on whether or not you should answer. It hurt a little that you had declined instead. 

She swallowed down her tears, glancing sideways at her still frozen mate. 

“Hey babe, um I know we’re not really talking right now, but um. Christen called and we’re worried. Please call me or Linds back,” she worried her bottom lip, wondering if she should add more, but the time ran out before she could. 

“Damn it,” she huffed, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. She hadn’t told you she loved you. 

Lindsey smiled sadly at her, rubbing her back soothingly, and pulling out her own phone. 

Her thumb hovered over a photo of the two of you cuddled up in one of your famous nests. She smiled wistfully down at it. How had this gotten out of hand so quickly? 

She pressed the button, holding the phone up to her ear. It didn’t even ring before it went to the robotic voicemail. What happened to the one that had you giggling because they wouldn’t stop kissing your neck? 

She didn’t have time to think it through before the beep sounded. She cleared her throat. 

“Hey, um I heard you were in Spain. What’s that about? Call me back,” she too tossed her phone down. 

“I can’t feel her,” Emily mumbled after a few minutes. Lindsey sighed. 

She closed her eyes tightly with a sigh and began to feel for your presence in the bond. If you weren’t going to answer them, then she was going to make sure you knew how unhappy with this situation she was. 

Her eyebrows furrowed when she was met with a wall of unsteady calm. It was like it was pulsing like your inner omega was pacing behind it trying to get through. She focused on the wall you had created and gave it a little push. 

She smirked when it bent a little bit to her will. “I think I got it,” 

She pushed back harder, the wall you creating molding around her alpha as she tried to reach your omega. She was almost there, she could almost touch your omega. One last push was all she needed. 

But just as she went to give it, a blast of calm shoved her backward. 

Her eyes blinked open at the ping of her phone and she scrambled to pick up the device. 

It was two words. No caps, no punctuation. A simple “fuck off” that they could practically hear reverberating in their heads. 

“What do we do now?” Emily asked softly. 

Lindsy’s smirk widened. 

“We call her until she answers us again.”