#well. i must brace myself for heartbreak

[gamingdotcom]

realizing whatever happens with astarion in cazadors dungeon is just. gonna be how it is in honor mode.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

There are no happy endings. Just hurtful goodbyes and a disappointing life to follow the moments that were meant to last forever -xxwritemeastoryxx

I can't even begin to explain how grateful I am for all of my followers. From those that joined me at the beginning, to those that are just joining, and everyone in between, thank you for being here. Thank you for reading, encouraging, and supporting what I do here. Without you guys I would have left some time ago.

Tumblr is and will probably always be a hellsite that hardly ever works in my favor, but I try as much as I can to keep a positive attitude even though there have been several moments of wanting to throw in the towel. But I learned that it was okay to post and write at my own pace without stressing myself over it. So thank you for being understanding of that as well. 

But enough of that! Let’s get to the real reason that this celebration is happening.

This Blog Turns 4 on September 29th!

The first thing I ever posted here on tumblr was a two part fic helping me to work through grieving the loss of a family member (It’s cringe beyond belief and it’s why its not on the masterlist) and found my flow with writing angst. 

The pain I felt in my day to day was transferred into my writing and became as easy as breathing. The Emotional Torture Kink Club was made in the process. I’ve been given the nicknames Queen/Goddess of Angst. I’ve been ‘hated’, cursed and screamed at for the pain that I’ve caused with my writing and I don’t regret it for one second. 

So here we are starting the next year of this journey and I couldn’t think of any other way to celebrate this trip around the sun. So prepare to be hurt, prepare yourself with tissues, and brace yourself for some of the emotional torment that you may experience during this celebration. 

Starting September 25th up until October 8th you will be able to send in prompts for Drabbles and One shots, as well as send in some asks that are anything and everything that have to do with Angst. Below the cut is everything you will need for this celebration. I look forward to celebrating with you guys in the upcoming week!♥

The most dangerous lover is one who greets pain with a smile. -r.m. drake

Before we dive into the fun stuff, lets get a few things out of the way. Asks/requests will be accepted until October 8th at 11:59 PM PST. I will be working on them throughout the celebration as well as after since things may take time. I work and at times I am very drained from that. So please be patient. Some things are easier to get out than others. 

You can send as many asks as you’d like to. There’s no limit. You can be anon or not. Your choice! But before you send anything in, Please keep a few things in mind!

-I have written and posted for characters in TVDU and MCU. I’m willing to branch out and try to write for other fandoms and characters. However there are some shows/movies that I have not seen and wouldn’t be able to write for. Don’t hesitate to ask if you are unsure!

-Please Please Please be sure to include any triggers that you’d want me to avoid in your asks. While the aim is to emotionally torture you with heartbreak and death, I would never want to push your boundaries in any way!

-For the sake of Minors, please note that there will be nothing in terms of smut and can be read by all. However some topics may or may not be brought up. Please read what you feel comfortable with. 

And lastly, Have some fun!

It's strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise -sara teasdale

Angsty Q&A

💣 - Hardest part to write for _insert Angst Fic_?

🥀- I share a snippet of an Angst fics I'm working on

💔- What fic hurt you (the reader) the most and I'll give some BTS/deleted scenes/thought process for said fic.

🪦- If I could write a death scene for _insert character name_ how would you do it? But you can't use/do _insert scenario_.

⚰️ - Cast your mutuals as __fill in blank but Make it angsty__

✉️ - "Dear John" letters. I shatter your heart with a letter from a character. You pick the character and reason (unless you want me to) and I emotionally torment you with break ups and heart aches.

😢 - I'll recommend my favorite Soul crushing Angst Fics

😭- I'll tell you the fic that hurt the most to write.

☠️- Angst Playlist. I'll list 5 songs I listened to on repeat while writing a fic of my choice

🩸 - Gif it. You send an Angst inspiring gif and I write a drabble with it.

To this day, I still would choose the angst over something easier, when I really don't have to. -Jane Lynch

Make It Angsty Prompts

Send a Character and a Prompt, I write the fic. Choose Wisely. This will only end in heartbreak.

Please note: Maximum prompts per ask is two(2). While there are no limits on how many you can send (because I can’t really stop those that are on anon) Please be considerate and allow others to send something in as well! Be patient! Writing takes time.

1. I'm sick of missing you when you're right here.

2. Tell me I’m wrong. Say it. Please.

3. Oh my god, you love her. And she doesn’t love you back. How perfect.

4. You made me think I actually mattered.

5. I know I have a heart because I can feel it breaking.

6. You say this every time and I'm starting to realize that you never mean it.

7. Did you ever realize that you were hurting me? Or did you just not care?

8. I should be hurt. I should hate you. All of the signs have been there in front of my face and I chose to ignore them.

9. You knew? You knew and you did nothing to help?

10. You started this. The least you can do is finish ripping my heart out by telling the damn truth.

11. I used to beg you to do this with me. But I guess I just wasn't the person you wanted to do it with.

12. Did you ever love me? Or was my feelings a part of the game to?

13. I hate you. But I hate myself more for letting this go on for so long.

14. It's like I can't breathe anymore. And all I want is to breathe normally without feeling as if I'm dying all over again.

15. If you had have kept your mouth shut, then he’d still- he’d still be here!

16. "We'll get through this." "We both know only one of us is making it out of here."

17. You killed her! She was the only person I ever loved and you killed her!

18. Just pretend we’re okay, just for tonight, just for show. I’ll be gone by sunrise.

19. Have you ever thought that maybe you’re the problem? All these people keep leaving and you keep acting surprised.

20. The worst part was that I saw it coming, I knew you’d hurt me, hurt us, but I still kept you around.

21. At least look me in the eyes as you say it. That way you can watch as you break my heart.

22. "It was never supposed to be you." "Then who was it supposed to be? Because I'm the one that's standing here instead of them."

23. It's okay. I always knew there'd come a day where you'd do this to me.

24. "I can't do this." "You have to. It's the only way to get back to them." "If I do, I lose you." "Oh baby, you never lost me. I've been here the whole time."

25. Pick your own prompt! Just Remember it must be something that could be used for angst

Song Prompts

1. Surrender -Natalie Taylor

2. Let Me Down Slowly - Alec Benjamin

3. Hold On - Chord Overstreet

4. Can You Hold Me - NF

5. Already Gone- Sleeping at Last (I prefer this version more than the original)

6. Grand Piano - Niki Minaj

7. Drowning - Chris Young

8. Die From a Broken Heart -Maddie &Tae

9. Say Something -  A Great Big World

10. Wrong Direction - Hailee Steinfeld

And sometimes I want it all to fall into ruin. The world, the stars, the entire cosmos into a heap of nothing. A discarded dream, a used up plaything. All battered and bruised and empty like me.

Upcoming Fics

Starting Sept 29th I’ll be giving you guys a week of angsty fics. While I would normally list them here in this section, I’m gonna leave that as a mystery. Mostly because I’m constantly changing things and the line up could change between now and then. But just know you’ll be needing tissues that week. 

I look forward to seeing your asks and requests! Thank you guys for being here with me for this journey and I can’t wait to see what this next year brings us!

[loki--fics]

Anguish - Oneshot

Loki x Reader

content warnings: angst, heartbreak, cheating

author's note: this is gonna be rough, brace yourselves ♡

summary: you discovered that Loki cheated on you, and you're heartbroken. Loki begs for your forgiveness, but you just can't bring yourself to forgive him.

~

"She meant nothing to me!" Loki exclaimed. "I love you!"

"Don't you get it, Loki?" You asked, the tears you refused to shed in front of him burning behind your eyes. "The very thing that distinguishes us is that I would not hesitate to choose you in every lifetime, yet you would not choose me even in this one. I gave you my heart and my soul, though I know I cannot love you into loving me.

"So there you are," You said, gesturing to him. "Spilling over with my love, and here I am, begging for even just a droplet of yours." Sighing, a feeling of defeat washed over you as your shoulders slumped.

Loki looked at you, regret in his eyes. He never intended to make you feel this way, and it broke him to see what he'd done. "Y/N, please, I-"

"But there must come a time," You interrupted, unable to meet his eyes, "When you realise that grieving someone is a lot less painful than pouring all of your love and soul into them, hoping for the day when they love you back, when you know it will never come."

You could hold back the tears no longer, and felt them spill over onto your cheeks. "And I know that I should not beg for love, but.. Just once, I wished for someone to be afraid of losing me as much as I feared losing them."

"I do fear losing you, Y/N. More than I have feared losing any other," Loki begged. "Please, it was a stupid mistake-"

"All I can think of," You said, cutting him off, "Is all of the promises you made to me. How you would always love me, how you would never leave me, or hurt me.. I wonder now why I ever believed you. After all, you are the God of Lies, are you not? The Trickster God."

Loki stumbled back a step, as if the words you spoke had physically assaulted him. He wanted to argue, to beg, but he was stunned into silence.

"I am at fault as well, though," You continued. "I gave too much of myself to you. I feel everything much too deeply and intensely for me to understand, let alone you. I didn't guard myself at all against you, and too easily I gave my heart away to you, believing you'd treasure it, treasure me."

"You are my world, Y/N," Loki replied, finally finding his words. "Nothing in the Nine Realms and beyond will ever mean as much to me as you do. Please, I will do anything to earn your forgiveness and regain your trust, anything!"

"I've not trusted anyone the way I trusted you, Loki!" You argued. "Yet somehow, you made it easy for me to let you in, as if it was effortless for you. You crashed into my life, and became my knight in shining armour."

His eyes were glassy as he spoke. "I know what I did has hurt you deeply, and I know that things won't be the same as they were before. But please, that... That wench, she was nothing to me! Nothing more than a mistake I swear upon the Allfather I will never make again."

"Every promise you have ever made was a lie." You said flatly. "You weren't a knight in shining armour, you were a counterfeit. You never meant to stay, and you never meant it the countless times you said you loved me."

"I did mean it!" He shouted desperately. "Every word!"

You met his eyes, feeling white-hot anger seep through the waves of hurt. "You took my heart and you shattered it into millions of pieces, not caring if I'd ever be able to put it back together again! What's worse, is I can't comprehend why? What could I have done to make you abandon me so ruthlessly? All I ever wanted was to love you, and I did, with an intensity that I was terrified would tear me apart. And now, it finally has."

"Don't do this," Loki pleaded, dropping to his knees. "I beg of you, please, don't do this."

Turning away, you balled your fists, unable to look at him any longer. "I've never felt so utterly betrayed and used. You selfishly took all of the good parts of me, so that you could be happy, and left me with a mess you had no intention of helping me clean up. I just.. I don't understand why I wasn't enough. I took a chance on you, and you destroyed me."

"Anything you want me to say, I will say. Anything you want me to do, I will do. Please, I cannot bear to going back to an existence you are not a part of," Loki said, his heart breaking. "I'm truly sorry, please believe how sorry I am."

"I want to forgive you," You said softly, resignation taking over the anger. You felt numb. "I want to hold on to this idea of us, foolish as it is. I want to believe that you realise what it is you've done and are truly sorry."

"Then do it," He pleaded, desperation filling his chest and making it uncomfortably tight. As he spoke, he couldn't stop his voice from cracking. "Please, don't leave me."

You shook your head. "I can't, Loki, can you not see that I can't? I look at you now, and where I once felt love, all I can feel now is this stabbing hurt in my heart and this deeply overwhelming sense of loss in my soul. I don't see how it's possible for me to ever open myself to you again.

"But maybe this is how it was meant to be. Maybe I was never meant to give myself to you the way I did, maybe my heart never belonged to you and our lives weren't meant to intertwine forever. We were but one small moment in a life filled with billions of moments, and while the time I had with you pierced me more deeply than anything I've ever experienced, it wasn't meant to last."

If his heart wasn't shattered before, upon hearing these words and knowing that there was no way for him to make amends, Loki felt irreparably broken. He had nothing left to say, no arguments left to make, no final pleas. Hanging his head in resignation, he sobbed.

"Goodbye, Loki."

[nationalharryleague]

The Busy Bean

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Coworkers to lovers AU

Word count: 5.6K

A/N: Hi all! This is my entry for Sadie’s (@meetmeinfleetwood) To Lovers Fic Challenge!! As always, many thanks to Mia (@hardcandy-harry) and Lu (@meetmymouth​ even tho shes taking a little break lol) for being wonderful betas!! I really love it and I hope you enjoy it too! You can find more of my writing in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think (or anything else lol) in my ask! 

***

The first day at a new job is a universally terrifying experience.

You can’t sleep the night before, head full of nightmare scenarios of evil customers and mean bosses, and a swirl of anxiety continues to bubble in the pit of your stomach, refusing to slow or calm. There's a part of you that prays they will call and tell you that they don’t need your help anymore, despite how bad you need the money. But the call never comes, and the next day you stand in front of the building, desperately trying to take deep breaths and slow your heart rate, bracing yourself for whatever is to come whenever you enter.

This is where Y/N was today, in a mess of shaky palms with slight blue bags under her eyes from a lack of sleep that wouldn’t disappear no matter how hard her concealer tried. She stood in front of the large plate glass window of the cafe, sneaking glimpses and trying to prepare herself for whatever awaited before she actually reached to take the door handle. With a glance at her watch that signaled it was time for her to arrive, she took one last deep breath and entered the small but cozy space.

The cafe itself wasn’t open yet, devoid of customers with only a few lights behind the counter on, but it was full of the delightful and familiar smell of coffee that swirled around her head. The wall to her left was an exposed brick that had been painted white with a long table running along it with stools tucked underneath and a long cafe counter ran the length of the shop to her right. The far back wall of the shop was a giant book shelf with books stacked from the bottom of the top, arranged in a rainbow pattern along each shelf. The store was unbearably charming.

“Hello?” she felt herself call out softly into the empty space. Her voice came out slightly timid, her anxious mind not giving her lips full permission to speak.

She listened to a shuffling and a distant voice muttering “shit,” that seemed to be coming from a door that sat behind the counter where the few lights had been turned on. Before long, a man with curly hair popped his head out from the back hallway, giving her a wide dimpled smile. “Just give me a minute!” he said, holding up his pointer finger for a second, before disappearing back into the hall. After a few more moments of shuffling and muffled cursing, he reappeared. His face held the same dimpled grin as before.

“You must be Y/N,” he said, reaching out a hand for her to shake across the counter. “Boss man said you would be starting today.”

“That’s me,” she spoke gently, still apprehensive in the new surroundings. She placed her hand in his and he shook it with a friendliness she hadn’t expected from her first couple minutes in a new work space. His hand was warm and his nails were painted a bright and sunshiny yellow.

“I’m Harry. It’s great to meet you!” His voice was deep, but light and enthusiastic, far too excited for the early morning calm that she had been reveling in on her walk to the shop.

She decided quickly that he looked like a ‘Harry’ and that his name matched his cheerful disposition. His green eyes shined, even in the relatively dim early morning light that illuminated the room through the front window, and they held a disarming and calming quality that slowed her heart rate for the first time since she had woken up.

“You too.” She forced a smile onto her lips, hoping to conceal the first day jitters that ran through her system.

“Don’t worry about your first day,” he read her like a book. “Everyone here is very nice and you have the best trainer in the world.”

“I’m assuming that’s you?” she questioned, letting out a light chuckle.

“Well, of course it is.”

She was slightly taken aback by the peculiar, yet undeniably charming, man that stood across the counter from her. He was dressed in a loose fitting black sweater that looked cozy and soft, paired with wide-legged tan slacks, all covered with a dark green apron that had the cafe’s logo on the chest. The Busy Bean was embroidered in a light yellow sitting above a mug with a bumble bee on it; it was charming and cute, fitting in well with the plethora of plants and flowers that filled the cafe.

He must have noticed her staring at the logo. “You like the name?” he asked her, pointing at the logo that sat on his chest. She nodded softly, a smile finding its way on to her lips. “We’re going to be very busy beans in about,” he paused to check his watch, “thirty minutes when we open. So put this on,” he slid her very own apron across the counter, “and let's get ready.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said they were going to be busy.

While the shop had intentionally started her on a Saturday morning when it was usually a bit slower, the morning rush came in and threw her for a tizzy. She took orders and ran them to tables for what seemed like hours, kept far away from the coffee bar as she was unsure of how to make all of the drinks yet. But thankfully, she wasn’t alone.

Soon after opening, another woman arrived, wearing the same dark green apron that matched Y/N and Harry’s. She had long dark hair that fell to the small of her back and in gentle waves and glowing mocha skin with golden eyes. She introduced herself as Isla, with a warm and friendly smile, and stationed herself behind the counter, making drink after drink that smelled intoxicatingly delicious. Y/N thanked god, or whatever was out there, that she and Harry had someone else to help them out while customers flowed in and out of the shop.

Harry hung by her side for the entirety of the morning rush, carefully watching her every move, and gently redirecting her when she seemed to make a mistake. He was kind and she could tell that he genuinely wanted her to learn, not just to do a job well for efficiency’s sake. There was never a trace of frustration on his features, just patience and good will.

Around noon, the flood of patrons looking for their morning coffee began to slow, finally giving Y/N an opportunity to rest. She flopped herself down on a stool that sat behind the counter and released a long sigh, stretching her neck and slumping her shoulders. She was met by sympathetic giggles coming from her two new co-workers.

“Honey,” Isla began with a hint of pity in her voice, “that was nothing.”

“What did I get myself into?” Y/N chuckled through a groan, putting her face in her hands out of exhaustion.

“I promise it gets easier,” Harry chimed in, always one to calm someone’s anxieties. “You just need to get into the swing of things.”

“What I need to do is learn how to make all the fancy coffees that people keep asking me for,” she said, peeking through her fingers at her still amused coworkers.

A look was passed between the two of them, Isla eventually moving out of the way and motioning for Harry to take over the coffee bar. “Come on Baby Barista, lets teach you some of the basics.”

His nickname for her made her release a loud laugh, immediately stifling it to a few giggles when she realized she had caused a few patrons to look up and over at her. Her cheeks warmed instantly, embarrassed for disturbing them, and she added another item to the list of things she was learning never to do again with customers in the store.

He guided her over to the counter full of machinery including pots of coffee, hot water, an espresso machine, and more equipment she couldn’t even identify. He spoke to her gently and gave her all his attention, carefully talking her through how to make a few of the most ordered drinks. Other than almost burning herself a couple times, she was starting to get the hang of it. She had a very hard time wiping the smile off of her face after Harry taste tested each one and gave his seal of approval.

“Not bad, Baby Barista,” he complimented with a dimpled smile and a slight nod after she handed him what she believed was a caramel latte. She reveled in his praise, wanting to do her job well, but also loving his approval and the nickname he had now assigned to her.

They did this coffee lesson for a few more hours, as the shop slowed to almost a complete stop as they got closer to closing time. Isla had headed home and there were only a few stragglers left that had spent their days working or reading in the cafe as the sun began to set around 5pm, with closing at 6. Harry diligently continued to teach her as much as he could in one day as they began to close up the shop and get ready for the next day. He was easy to talk to and their conversation seemed to flow effortlessly as they swept and did dishes.

“So, what brought you to London?” he asked after a short lul, looking at her with an inquisitive look, the ever present dimple on his cheek and grin on his lips disarming her easily.

“Oh, you know,” she stumbled over her words slightly, “I just needed a fresh start.”

“No mysterious or heartbreaking backstory I need to know about?” he quipped, a questioning eyebrow perched on his forehead. She let out another loud laugh, deciding not to quiet herself this time as there was only one customer left in the store.

“No,” she chuckled, shaking her head as she swept. “I got dumped in a small town and needed to get away from them. It was like they were around every corner.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but he just had a way of pulling the truth from her. “I always dreamed of living here and the breakup was the kick in the ass I needed to actually do it.”

“I’m glad you made it here, but I’m sorry about the breakup.”

“Don’t be,” she smiled. “Definitely for the best.”

“Okay, then I won’t be.” His eyes had a mischievous glint behind them, but she couldn’t exactly place what he was getting at.

They worked together in a comfortable silence after that, making sure everything was ready for the morning to come and clean from the day that was leaving. Y/N covered a yawn as Harry told her that she was done for the day.

As she clocked out and gathered her things, she heard Harry’s voice as she moved towards the exit. “Do you live close by? I can give you a ride if you need. Don’t want you having to walk too far in the dark.” His offer was sweet and made her smile.

“I’m pretty close and I like the walk.” She grabbed onto the handle of the front door but couldn’t make herself leave just yet. “Thank you for being so patient with me today, Harry,” she said looking back towards him and connecting their eyes. She tried to convey her emotions to him on her face, something she wasn’t always very good at.

“No problem. We’re happy to have you here, Baby Barista.”

With a final nod and a light flush to her cheeks, she set off down the street towards her new flat. It wasn’t a long walk, just long enough to get a little chill in her bones from the cold winter air and to turn her nose into a small icicle.

She reflected on her first day as she walked. She liked Isla, and really liked Harry. And while she was very busy, it was good busy, not the type of busy that depletes your energy and makes you want to fall over at the end of the day. It was a kind of busy that kept her on her toes, ready to learn, and develop a skill.

Her thoughts were broken through when she noticed the old beat up red car that seemed to be following her down the road. It drove slowly, as if it didn’t want it to see her, and took extra long at intersections like it was hoping to stay behind her. She took a turn she didn’t need to at the next block, and another after that, and when the car continued to follow, her heart began to race.

She thought about running, or going up to a pedestrian and asking for help; she even considered calling her mum just to stay on the phone with her until she got home. It wasn’t until she recognized the green eyes and dimples behind the wheel that her heart began to slow. She turned around fully then, making eye contact with the man who had been following her, and crossing her arms in front of her and shooting a questioning eyebrow up at him.

He wore a look of shame as his car slowed to a stop in the street next to her.

“Excuse me sir,” she said sarcastically, bending over to look in the window and get a better look at his embarrassed rosey cheeks. “Why were you following me?”

“I wasn’t being a creep, I promise,” he quickly defended. “This neighborhood gets a little dangerous at night and I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” He looked panicked and frazzled, clearly not planning on being caught. It was the first time she had seen him without a smile on his face all day.

“Harry, you were the thing that was making me feel unsafe,” she said, playfully scolding him through giggles. She watched as his face fell in a flood of relief that she wasn’t angry with him. “If you told me that you were going to follow me home anyway, I would have taken the ride.”

“I’m sorry.” He hung his head and ran a stressed hand through his curls.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she smiled softly. “I appreciate you caring enough to make sure I got home.” She rested a hand on the passenger side door handle. “And now you’re going to drive me the rest of the way home to make up for making me get off my normal route,” she laughed as she pulled on the handle and settled herself into the passenger seat.

The car was old, but clean and it smelled like the cologne he wore that she had picked up on a few times throughout the day. He was quiet, hanging his head like a child who had been caught with his hands in the cookie jar, as she directed him towards her flat. “I’m sorry, again,” was all he said when he pulled up in front of the building.

“Don’t be,” she smirked, using the same words she had earlier in the day when discussing her breakup. She exited the car, giving him a wave, and a call of “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before entering the building and shutting the door behind her.

***

Over the next few weeks, Harry and Y/N became fast friends.

After about a week of begging, she finally broke down and allowed him to pick her up and drive her home from work every day. Their morning rides consisted of the perpetually peppy and excitable morning person in the driver's seat blabbering on about something he saw on the news while he was getting ready or going on about a new book he was reading, while she would settle her still sleepy head on the window and rest her eyes for just a few more minutes before their day was forced to begin. At the end of the day, Harry was the quiet one, letting her recount the day (usually complaining about unruly customers or people that would sit and steal their wifi all day without ordering anything), while he drove her at a painfully slow pace to her flat. He always waited until she got inside the building, even asking her to text him when she got inside her tiny flat.

“I just want to make sure you got inside safe,” he would argue when she teased him about it.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” she would rebut.

“Then I’m not coming to help you anymore when you can’t figure out the milk steamer, Baby Barista.”

“Don’t threaten me with that stupid milk steamer. It has so many buttons you need to work for NASA to understand it,” she would groan, only to be met with a teasing glare from the curly man next to her. “Fine, I take it back,” she would always concede.

His protectiveness was not unwelcome to her. If she was being honest with herself, Harry was the only real friend she had made since she made the move to London and she was quickly becoming heart crushingly lonely. She took any care that anyone in the new and scary city was willing to give her with open arms.  

He was her only friend. They got on so well, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed the extra few minutes she spent with him every morning and evening in the car. Maybe even a little too much.

At work, there was usually a chorus of laughter and giggles coming from their direction as Harry had taken her under his wing while she learned the ropes. There were days they would stay late after they had been off the clock making drinks over and over again; him patiently teaching, and her desperately trying to learn. There were definitely a few failures along the way, but they were always met with a teasing joke and then careful step-by-step directions on how she could fix it.

Technically Harry was her boss, store manager to be specific, but they worked alongside each other seamlessly, him never barking orders at her or using a harsh or authoritative tone.

Until today.

Y/N had been talking to one of their regulars, Robby, after she delivered an Americano to his table in the corner while it was particularly slow. Robby came in often, always shooting Y/N a bright smile and peppering compliments into their quick conversations. He was gorgeous, she couldn’t deny that; he had deep brown skin and an athletic build that she was sure was muscular under the thick sweater he was wearing to protect him from the cold. But he wasn’t her type, a little too arrogant and self-obsessed for her liking, always figuring out a way to turn their quick conversations back to himself. While it was fun to flirt with him, she knew it would never go any further than that.

“When do you get off?” Robby had asked suddenly, derailing their conversation away from the drink she had just delivered him. “I would love to take you out and see you in something other than that god awful apron.”

“Hey! I quite like my apron,” she playfully feigned offense, reaching to lightly swat him on the arm. “And while I appreciate your offer, I just got out of something pretty long term and I’m really not looking for anything right now. I’m sorry, Robby.” She forced a friendly pout onto her face, pretending like she was actually sorry for denying him.

Before he could respond, she heard an annoyed voice call her name from behind the counter. Whipping her head around to see who it was, she found Harry wearing an annoyed and frustrated face she had never seen him make before, especially not directed towards her. “We need some help back here. You have a job to do, remember?” he scolded, eyebrows furrowed and jaw steeled.

Her cheeks flushed white hot, embarrassed to be reprimanded like that in front of the whole shop. She hung her head in shame as she quickly walked back behind the counter. She was beyond embarrassed, suddenly uncomfortable in a place she had finally begun to come into her own in. She was learning and doing a good job, at least that was what she had been told, by both Isla and Harry; but the uneasy feeling in her stomach kept her from feeling comfortable for the rest of the day.

She carefully and quietly navigated behind the counter for the rest of her shift, sheepishly doing her best to stay out of her coworkers’ way and just do her job.

For the first time, she was slapped in the face with the reality that Harry wasn’t just her friend; he was her boss. He had an authority over her, and could probably get her in trouble with the owner, or even fired if he really wanted to. Navigating a business-like relationship was awkward and abnormal for them both, but Y/N decided she needed to learn how to quickly.

There was another reason his silent treatment seemed to hurt, one that Y/N had been trying her best to ignore. An undeniable crush had begun to build in her for the bright and bubbly man, despite however hard she had tried to fight it.

Harry made her feel safe, always keeping an eye out for her and trying to make sure she was alright. He made her laugh more than anyone she had ever known and their chemistry together felt electric. But what warmed her heart, and what now hurt the most, was that it felt like he cared about her just as much as she cared for him.

But now, it all felt like a fairytale she had built up in her head.

Their usual banter and giggles fell quiet for the rest of their day, reducing to curt directions from Harry and understanding hums from Y/N, following his orders without question or comment. Even Isla was quiet, not daring to breach the tension the pair had created between themselves.

The car ride home was quiet and strained that day.

But she still texted him when she was safe inside her flat.

***

While she had prayed that the next day would be like any other, their morning ride to work was filled with much of the same silence.

Harry fiddled with the heat and the radio in an effort to avoid her eyes or having to make conversation, eventually settling on a station that was playing old classic rock she didn’t recognize. He drove like she wasn’t even in the car, staring silently ahead at the road. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat fiddling with her fingers, not daring to get comfortable in a space that was all his.  

At work, they both held tight to the tension, only muttering at each other when absolutely necessary. She kept her head down and just did what she was told to do.

She was at the counter when a woman approached the coffee bar, seeming to bark her order for an extra hot cappuccino with extra foam at Y/N. Her face was twisted into an angry pout, like she had just smelled something bad, and spat her words out her words. Y/N just nodded and breathed a “yes, maam,” unable to fight with any nasty customers today while her head was so occupied with Harry. She was off her game.

The woman hovered at the counter, watching intensely and tapping her foot impatiently as Y/N fought with the dreaded milk steamer attachment to one of their large industrial machines. She would have sworn that she pressed the extra hot setting.

Passing the full mug to the woman at the register, Y/N watched as she took a long sip of the drink before paying, something that wasn’t really allowed, but Y/N just didn’t have the fight in her today to reprimand her.

“That will be £2,” Y/N spoke softly with as much sweetness as she could muster, afraid of what could come out of the woman’s mouth. She watched as her face turned even more sour than before after she finished the long drag from the cup.

“I’m not paying for this,” she declared, nose stuck high in the air.

“I’m sorry?” Y/N asked with confusion clear in her voice. “Is there something wrong with it?”

“It’s not extra hot and there is no extra foam.”

“Okay, I’m very sorry about that,” she said apologetically, even though she knew for a fact the drink had both of those things, and released an exhausted sigh. “I will make you another.”

The woman’s eyes flicked down the counter in Harry’s direction, rudely snapping her fingers at him to catch his attention. He was hunched over the back counter, somehow worsening his already terrible posture, trying to eat a sandwich as fast as he could before his break was over. “Are you her boss?” she shouted at him, even though he could have heard her without raising her voice at him.

Y/N’s eyes were already filled with anxiety when Harry connected his with her’s, seeming to wordlessly ask what was going on and Isla watched on in terror. She felt her body try to shrink away from the woman before her and Harry as he came closer.

“I’m the store manager. Is there something going on that I could help with?” His eyes kept flashing back and forth between Y/N and the woman, trying to decipher the situation without words.

“I want you to remake my drink.”

“I’m actually on a break-”

“No,” she cut him off mid-sentence. “If she makes my drink again, she is just going to fuck it up all over again. She’s obviously incompetent.”

Y/N eyes flew open at her words, a mix of shock and hurt running through her. With her heart beginning to race, never one for confrontation, she wanted to melt into the floor and disappear all together.

Harry’s face hardened at the woman as she hurled insults towards Y/N. Stepping in front of her, as if putting his body between her and the woman could protect her from her harsh words, he took a deep breath before he began to speak again. “First of all, you will not speak to anyone who works here like that,” he defended her. “Second, I’m sure she’s completely capable of making your drink again if you give her a moment.”

“I don’t want her to make it and I have places to be,” she continued to fight. “I don’t have time for some pathetic newbie to give it another try.”

Her comments hit Y/N hard in her existing feelings of inadequacy and before she knew it, her vision was beginning to blur. She felt like this woman was repeatedly kicking her while she was already down.

“You have to leave.”

Harry’s voice was angry. It wasn’t the frustration or annoyance she had heard the day before, and it was a far departure from the kind and patient tone she had grown to love since she began working at the shop. It was full of anger, something she had never heard from him and an emotion she hadn’t even been sure he could feel before this point.

“I’m not leaving until I get another drink that’s correct and free.”

“I will call the cops if you don’t leave right now.”

Y/N couldn’t stand to watch this unfold before her any longer. An anxious weight had settled on her chest and she had felt the tears begin to roll. She was gone from the counter, running towards the soundproof walk-in fridge in the back hall. She planned on shutting herself inside and sobbing until she froze.

She stood in the freezing chill, holding her arms tight to her frame, desperate to keep herself warm and shield herself from the wrath that was playing out in the cafe. The cold seemed to ground her and the distance she had put between herself and the woman eased her stress, but the tears continued to flow as her eyes ran over the stock of the fridge in an attempt to distract herself.

A knock came from outside the heavy metal door that startled her, a soft and patient voice that she knew so well called through. “Y/N, are you okay? Can I come in?”

After doing her best to wipe the tears off her raw and cold cheeks, she choked out a small “yes.”

The door carefully opened and she was met with a soft and empathetic gaze from the only person she wanted to comfort her. He breathed a soft “come here,” before he opened his arms wide. She bolted into them, letting his giant frame envelop her whole in the warmth that always radiated from him. Y/N let herself weep softly into his chest as the dizzying scent of his cologne took over her senses.

He held her close to him for a few moments, letting her get all her emotions out, before releasing her body and taking her face into his somehow still warm hands, using his thumbs to swipe away a few more tears that had managed to escape.

“I don’t think that I even messed her drink up,”she broke the silence, feeling pathetic as he held her in his hands.

“I know you didn’t. She won’t be coming back.”

“Thank you for defending me,” she said, hiccuping as she stared into his comforting eyes. “I feel so stupid. I’m sorry.” She went to pull away, but he continued to hold her close.

“No, this is all my fault,” he shook his head slightly, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “If I hadn’t been such a dick yesterday then none of this would have happened. I’m so sorry.” His eyes held honesty, determined to be granted absolution by the girl before him.

“I don’t like it when we don’t get along,” she squeaked. “I really don’t like it when you yell at me and make me feel like I’m not doing my job well.”

He sighed hard, his face looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. “I have to be honest with you,” he confessed. “I wasn’t acting like an asshole yesterday because you weren't doing your job; you were just doing fine. I was upset you were flirting with that guy.”

She felt her lips fall into a small ‘oh.’ While she hadn’t meant anything by what she thought was harmless flirting, Harry hadn’t known that. The frustration and annoyance she had heard was in actuality all jealousy.

“You were jealous?” she asked softly, bringing a hand up to hold over one of his own that were still holding her face.

“Well, yeah,” he said with an awkward shrug. “I just thought that there might be something between us.”

He looked so adorable like this, slightly uncomfortable and shy. She looked at him intensely as an excited bubble began to form in her stomach at the idea that this massive crush had been mutual the whole time.

“There is.”

She couldn’t hold back her smile any longer, a grin breaking out onto her face as she nodded at him. The cold of the fridge was no longer nipping at her skin, her whole body radiating a flattered and excited blush of heat. The screaming she had just endured felt long behind her although it had only been a few minutes.

He mirrored her giddy expression. She watched as all the tension in his face began to melt away in relief and it reminded her of the look on his face when she teased him after he followed her home that first day.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed. “I was so worried that you were going to friendzone me forever.”

“I thought you were going to employee-zone me,” she chuckled.

“Are you going to kiss me or keep staring?”

A wide cheeky smile stretched across his lips, before she reached up and connected hers to his. The kiss was caring and sweet, but it felt like it sealed something she had been feeling since the first day they had met.

Their lips moved smoothly against each other, interrupted occasionally by a smile one of them couldn’t contain or a giggle that slipped from one of their mouths. She wasn’t nervous or overwhelmed by his proximity. She was so comfortable in his embrace. He was her best friend, after all.

They broke apart after a few moments, giant grins plastered on their faces that neither of them could manage to wipe away. “I liked that a lot,” Harry beamed, a boyish flush to his cheeks.

“Me too,” she mirrored him.

They spent a few more minutes in the fridge, swirling in a daze of infatuation and affection. “Do you think anyone heard us?” he asked softly, looking over towards the large metal door that had been left open a crack, before it flung open and they were met with a thrilled Isla.

“Yes, I heard you!” she exclaimed. “It’s about time!”

Thank you so much for reading! Feedback/Reblogs mean the world!! 

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [6]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.2K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: I really need to stop writing so late at night... I finish writing sometimes at 2 or 3 in the morning but I have to wake up at 5:30!! God, why do I do that to myself?! But its all worth it because I love reading your comments and seeing your likes and shares <3

[previous]                                                                                               [next]

You waved your arms in the air, signaling to his men where you were. How worried and concerned they looked couldn’t be explained with words. It was like they didn’t even look at him as their prince. They viewed him more as a close family member than their future king.

Everyone crowded around Bakugou wanting to be the one to help him up. But ultimately, it was Kirishima and Sero who supported him, one on each side as they helped sling his arms over their shoulders. Bakugou growled in pain every time he moved or took a step. Your eyebrows furrowed in concern and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You deeply wanted to help him, but what more could you do? Sure, you helped stop the bleeding a little bit but surely there was something else you could do. You wanted to be the one he leaned on. You didn’t want to feel useless. And it was frustrating because you knew you could be of more help. You didn’t want to look like a princess who didn’t know how to do anything.

Mina happened to glance over at you while you mentally criticized yourself. Your hands were balled up in fists in front of you, your pouty lips were quivering, and you couldn’t take your eyes off the wounded prince. Mina’s eyes softened. She came up to you, took your hands in hers, and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about that drama queen. He’s going to be fine. He can handle a small cut like that. He’s not called the infamous Blood Prince for nothing,” Mina assured you, making you feel a little bit better but no doubt, still worried.

You all stopped to rest about that ambush. No one else was hurt and nothing had been taken, just a few broken carriages but that’s all. One soldier was setting up a fire to heat up some drinks, two of them were looking at a map and depicting which route was safest to cross, and another was tending to Bakugou’s wounds. Thankfully, there was a whole cart of medicine. They applied medicine skillfully to his cut. This must happen a lot that they know exactly what to do without a doctor. You could only watch as you sit next to him, your eyes never leaving his cut. As his soldier was about to cover his wound back up, you held your hand out to stop him.

“May I?” you offered. The soldier was taken aback at the request, not expecting you to offer your assistance but gladly let you after seeing your determined face.

“As you wish, princess,” he backed off to leave the rest to you. You took hold of the bandages and began to wrap them around his torso.

“You let me know if it starts to hurt again,” you demanded as you finished wrapping him up.

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled. You didn’t like his answer so you tightened your knot a little too tight for his liking and he winced in pain.

“I’m serious,” you pouted. Bakugou could laugh at your reaction but decided against it.

“Is her highness upset with me?” he questioned and you couldn’t hold back your thoughts.

“How could you get hurt like that?” you exploded. “You had me so worried. What if you had gotten killed? What would I have done then? You shouldn’t let yourself get distracted, especially not because of me.” You were scolding him but Bakugou’s lips turned into a deep frown. He grabbed you by the wrists, making you face him.

“Surely her highness isn’t saying that she is not of importance?” his deep voice whispered, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. Having his face so close to yours made you flustered.

“Well…” you tried to say but couldn’t finish.

“To me, you are the most important person here. I would battle a hundred swordmen and lose all my limbs if it means that you are safe,” he said, seriously. Your lips parted in surprise by his sudden confession. When Bakugou snapped back to his senses, he was the one to become flustered this time.

“B-Because you are the future queen… o-of course,” he tried brushing off, looking away like it was nothing. Any feeling of happiness that you had slowly turned into disappointment. Of course, he was only protecting you because he thinks you are the princess, his future bride. If it was you, you were sure he wouldn’t be saying these things. But you tried to not let it get to you.

“Bakugou, princess!” you heard Sero’s voice behind you. You both turned to see Sero running towards you with two cups in his hands, careful not to spill its contents. “Freshly made. Drink it before it gets too cold.” He squatted, carefully giving you both a cup.

“Thank you,” you gave Sero a smile.

“Ah, also,” Sero stopped to pull out a map from his back pocket. “Kirishima was looking at the map again and if we go through this route, we can probably avoid any more bandits.” He said while showing Bakugou the new route.

“Can we still make it there in two days time?” Bakugou asked.

“Yes sir,” Sero said confidently.

“Good man. We’ll leave in 10,” Bakugou gave Sero a nod of approval. When he left, Bakugou attempted to get up from his position. He held onto the tree for support and grunted in pain as he started to stand.

“What are you doing?” you questioned, puzzled on what he was doing. Instinctively, you grabbed hold onto his arm to help support him.

“Leaving. I have to make sure everything is intact,” he said and still tried to stand tall. You pushed him back down and shoved the cup back in his hands.

“At least finish this. I’ll go do it for you,” you say. Before Bakugou had the chance to refuse your offer, you were already on your feet, running to the group of soldiers. Bakugou watched while you were frantically making sure that you had all the supplies and checking everything like he would. Although, being a rookie, you were bad at your job. The soldiers laughed, making you feel embarrassed yet welcomed by them. They told you everything you needed to check so that next time, you could do it yourself. With a smirk, Bakugou watched in amusement.

You traveled on the new route Kirishima had set for you all. But because it wasn’t the normal road they took, it was a bumpy ride with the ground being uneven. You thought you would be fine continuing on, but you became a little jumpy due to the recent events that just happened. Every snap of a twig or rustle of the bushes, you turned your head to make sure that no other bandits were sneaking up on you.

“Scared, princess?” Bakugou whispered in your ear. You huffed and crossed your arms.

“No,” you denied.

“Like I said, I’ll protect you no matter the cost,” he reminded you. He was loud enough for his other soldiers to hear. Mina gushed over his comment while the others had their mouths wide open. Bakugou? The Blood Prince? Saying these romantic remarks to a woman? Now this was a new sight to see. Kirishima, on the other hand, was smiling softly at the new couple. He couldn’t wait to see your relationship bloom into something beautiful.

Being that the road you were on was so uneven, you had to hold on tight so that you didn’t fall off the horse. At one point, the horse became scared, lifting on his hind legs. You gasped out loud and closed your eyes to brace yourself for a fall. But Bakugou had swooped his arm around your waist and stabilized both of you to stay on the horse.

“See, gotcha,” the prince teased. You covered your face so he couldn’t see how flushed your face was. Bakugou chuckled because he knew. He could tell you were flustered and that’s the exact reaction he wanted to get out of you.

As promised, in two days time, you made it to your next destination. What you saw wasn’t a lively town, filled with vibrant colors and a chorus of people. There were no food stands that sold a variety of foods and desserts. No whiff of saliva-inducing smells. No entertainment on the street for you to enjoy.

You saw a poor village; with run-down houses and starving people all over the streets. The atmosphere turned sad, like a gray cloud was constantly over this place. The life out of this town was completely sucked out. The image was so heartbreaking that you could break down in tears this very instant.

“Bakugou,” your voice cracked.

“I know,” he said, just as sad and disappointed you were, probably even more. “This is the other side of the kingdom that no one gets to see. Most of this kingdom is living in poverty. Everyone knows of the more lavish side, but in reality, what you are currently seeing is most of my kingdom. There are two completely different worlds here but no one, not my brothers not the kind, is doing anything about it. I don’t even know how to fix it.” He explained. You reached a certain, open area and Bakugou got off, so did every soldier. They began unloading all their supplies. You could see a line starting to form not far from you guys.

“And this is the only way I can think of to help,” he said, offering his hand to you. You took it, hoping off the horse.

“How often do you do this?” you ask, still in shock with what you were seeing.

“Every month or so? I try as often as I can,” he replied as he also started unpacking the crates from the cart. Food, medicine, spare clothes, they had it all. The realization hit you. So that’s why they packed so many things in the beginning. It was for his people. His men were almost done setting up, getting ready to pass out rations to his people. But you were standing to the side awkwardly.

No. There was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to help him. You moved to stand next to Bakugou, proactively helping to pass out food rations.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Aren’t you embarrassed as a princess?” Bakugou asked without sparing you a glance.

“Never. I want to help,” you said as confidently as you could, giving him eyes of determination. Bakugou finally looked at you, his heart skipping a beat again. He coughed, beating on his chest a few times.

You smiled at everyone who came in line, welcoming them without a single judgment. You looked down the line and all his soldiers were doing the same thing. They do this so often that the people recognize them and are laughing and having a good time. For living in such poor conditions, their spirits weren’t down.

After every single person had gotten their rations, you thought the work was over. Oh, how you were wrong. Once that was over with, his men started carrying out more things from the crates. This time, it was wood. They were going to help repair some homes. You were going to find Bakugou but immediately turned around when he took his cape and you saw him completely shirtless.

“You can sit this one out princess. This’ll get a little messy,” he advised. But you shook your head, still facing away from him.

“No, I want to help!” you were still determined. He chuckled at you.

“If you want to help, you’re gonna have to face the other way,” he pointed out. You took a deep breath and had the courage to face him. But only, your stare was straight down at the floor instead of him. How could you? With him being shirtless and all. Was that even necessary?

Bakugou took an axe and started chopping some wood. Your job was to bring the chopped wood to his soldiers who were the ones building the houses.

You eventually got tired bringing the wood back and forth, so you took a seat next to Bakugou who was nonstop chopping wood. The sweat was glistening his body in a godly matter. You couldn’t take your eyes away from his chest, that was heaving up and down. And then add some sweat? Phew, it made you feel hot.

“How long as this been going on?” you started a conversation.

“Ha?” he turned to you, not expecting you say anything so he was a tad out of it. “Ah, all my life.” He said. He decided that he’ll take a break too. He put down the axe and sat down next to you.

“If my father didn’t lie, these people probably wouldn’t be living like this,” he commented.

“Your father lied?” you asked curiously. Bakugou couldn’t believe that he was actually saying this, but he felt comfortable enough with you that he did.

“When he became King, he promised that he would protect every life in his kingdom. But look at all these people. They are suffering and dying because they are not getting the help that they need. And my father is neglecting them! He is a liar who couldn’t commit to a promise!” Bakugou started getting heated up. “That’s why I hate liars. I’ll ruin anyone who lies to me.”

And when he said that, your heart physically dropped.

A/N: Can I just say, you're gonna LOVE the next chapter. I literally just know it because I LOVE IT!

Also, does anyone else just read these chapters and think of it as an anime? No? Just me? Honestly, if I'm the only one that does this I'm gonna feel like such an idiot.

If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment or DM me and I'll gladly add you!!!

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[henryobsessed]

The Veterinarian and the Werewolf - Chapter 12

Word Count: 1838

Warning: Angst

A/N: Thank you @sillyrabbit81 and @amberangel112 for your help and encouragement. Also to my lovely readers, your comments on this story have been so engaging and encouraging :)

Chapter 12 – Jessie

Jessie had waited impatiently at the tree. They had fallen asleep together and she had been so eager to be wrapped up in his arms. But here she was waiting. It had felt like ages since she had arrived when she heard it. The sound of snapping jaws and deep desperate snarls. Standing, wondering if she needed to run, a wolf broke into the clearing. It wasn’t any wolf; it was Henry’s wolf.

“Henry are you ok?” she asked, watching carefully to see if it truly was Henry or if his wolf had taken control. But the look of anger and pain she saw in his eyes as he looked at her told her that this was Henry. This was the man she had grown to love; his feelings were clouding his mind right now and she knew she needed to be careful. He was unpredictable, what else could she do but offer a safe haven for him when he was ready.

She slowly knelt down, patting her lap, letting him know she was ok and that she was there for him. All the while she watched as he paced back and forth, each footfall a deliberate strike against the earth. Whatever had set him off must not have been good, she had never seen him in human form or wolf form this angry and in this much pain apart from that first night. Even then he had calmed the moment her presence had been seen. He continued to pace but his footfall grew softer, then he turned walking towards her. She could see his eyes no longer held the blaze of fire instead a pool of pain lingered. He laid his head in her lap, her hand automatically moving to caress him. She felt his body shudder beneath her hand as his breathing evened out.

At that moment she felt the shudder flow from his body to hers. She could feel his emotions, the grief, the pain and yet the comfort that she was giving him overshadowed all the other feelings. She closed her eyes focusing on the overwhelming sensations, breathing in the smells that surrounded her, the sounds of the birds chirping and then a snapping. Her eyes opened quickly searching the bushes until she realised the sound was coming from Henry. She stilled, not knowing what was happening, fear-fille her as she watched his limbs contort and change. Awe consumed her as she watched his human form appear, then heat crept up her cheeks as she realised clothes were not a part of the transformation.

You would think that seeing her lover in all his glory would make her desire him. And truth be told she did linger on his impressive organ between his legs, something she had felt many times but never seen. But all that was quickly consumed by the sound of Henry, his exertion evident by his laboured breathing and shuddering chest. Her hand tentatively reached out touching his hair as if he might break.

“Henry” she breathed softly, calmly. “Henry, are you ok? Can you tell me what happened?” His body curled up, shivering, his head turning to find her eyes. Not willing for him to see her fear she softened her features, leaning down and kissed his forehead. “It’s ok sweetheart, you’re safe.” Her whispers sounded as if they were shouted in the stillness of the forest. All the animals halted their sounds as if listening to their conversation.

He reached his large hand up to her cheek, touching her, as his horse voice broke, “I thought I had lost you, the forest would not let me reach you. I…”

Her hand braced his own against her face as she kissed his palm. “Shh, my love. It’s ok, your here and I am here. Nothing can harm us here.” They stayed in that embrace until their bodies calmed, their breathing gentled. Finally, the trees began to move again, the birds began to make their song as Henry shut his eyes and slept, his body exhausted. She smiled down at his face, the peace, when he was asleep, was something she had not had the privilege to witness until now. Her mind chuckled at the thought of him sleeping within a dream. She spent that rare time memorising the contours of his face. The way his nose was slightly crooked, his chin dimpled, his brow creased and the smile lines in his cheeks. For a short moment, she felt true peace, which gave her the determination that nothing would happen to her precious mate.

That morning she awoke to an empty bed, she could hear the sound of voices happy and laughing down in the kitchen. One more than she was prepared for, she walked down she saw Tom, Joe, Henry, and a strange man. However, it became very apparent who it was by the way that Joe was hanging off his body. This must be the allusive Dillon who she had spoken to on the phone but never met in person. He was everything opposite to Joe. While Joe had blonde hair, Dillion’s was black, where Joe was colour and bubbliness, Dillion was goth, his black clothing and pale skin accentuating his lack of sun. His profession was a gaming programmer who rarely left his house, so the fact that Joe had managed to get him to come out was amazing.

She stood for that moment and watched the banter, and friendship in the room. Even Henry was yipping as if he was joining in the conversation. Who would have thought that she would ever have this in her life? She saw that they had missed getting the milk, so turning she went outside. There, as usual, was the two bottles of fresh milk but what she saw next chilled her heart. A letter with a small poise of flowers sat up against the milk. She knew it wasn’t from Tom, so was it from Boyd? Not wanting to disturb the merriment inside she opened the letter.

Dear Jessie,

I know you were upset the last time we spoke, so I am willing to overlook your disrespectful behaviour. We have to talk, so you will meet me today just after lunch at the big tree in the forest. Come alone. I would hate for anything bad to happen to your precious wolf. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that Tom stayed over last night. If you want to keep him safe too, you will not let him know where you are going.

Our life together is going to be so special; I can picture you swollen with my children cooking in our kitchen. No need for you to keep your hobby working with animals, you will be too busy looking after me.

I love you Jessie and you will be mine.

Love

Boyd.

A shiver of fear ran down her back, not for her own safety but for that of her mate, and her friends. Stuffing the note in her pocket she picked up the milk leaving the flowers in the dirt and headed inside.

That morning she tried to enjoy the banter and giggles around her house. They had all decided to stay and keep her company. While Joe and Tom set about picking board games to play from the family cupboard, Dillon sat on his laptop in the living room. Henry was quietly watching her as she began making snacks.

“Come on Henry. Why don’t you go get the bag of chips from the pantry hmm?” A sparkle lit his eyes as he trotted off bringing back the Lays chips held daintily between his teeth so as not to damage them. “Go on, take them into the living room and give them to Dillion.” He tilted his head just slightly then nodded before heading out.

How was she going to get away with so much activity? Actually, it ended up very simple. After a morning of games and fun and food, they had settled into the living room to watch a movie. Jessie excused herself to go to the bathroom. After returning she noticed they were all preoccupied. Joe in Dillon's arms and Henry curled up next to Tom, where he had previously been turned the other way his head on her lap. Taking her chance, she slipped out the door and headed to her tree.

The walk that normally was filled with calm, instead anxiety was thrumming through her body. What was she going to say to him? How could she get him to leave Henry and Tom alone? As she stepped into the clearing, it was almost like a scene from her dreams, her tree, the wood filled with the sound of birds and other animals. But instead of Henry waiting at the tree, it was Boyd. Leaning against the tree, his tall, built body, no matter how appealing, held no enjoyment. Nothing like the fluttering in her stomach when she saw Henry.

“Well little lady, you took your time.” His rich voice sent the wrong kind of shivers down her back.

“What do you want Boyd? I made myself pretty clear the other night I do not want anything to do with you. So, you can stop this nonsense and give up.” Her voice held more authority than she knew she had as she tried to stare down the man.

Just like an animal, he seemed to pull up taller at the challenge. “Well now ain’t that a pretty speech, but you see I have the upper hand here. All it would take is a small word to the sheriff that your wolf tried to bite me, and he will force you to put him down. I can’t possibly imagine how heartbreaking it would be to have to do that yourself seeing as you are the only one qualified in this area. Plus, that little pansy of a boy that seems so infatuated with you, just one word from me to my boys and he won’t be able to get out of bed for months. And before you think running to his dad, he is backing me on this, he has no love for the boy.”

Jessie began to shake. What was she going to do? How could she even pretend to love this bastard? Boyd stepped closer just out of reach, spitting some chewing tobacco to the ground before he drawled, “"Now.. Come here little one, give me a kiss before I force it from you"

Trembling, she didn’t know what to do. She was ready to do almost anything, but the idea of kissing that filthy mouth and submitting to this animal was abhorrent. He took another step forward before she heard a deep throaty growl behind her.

Nooo!!!

What happened next all seemed to go by in slow motion. Henry jumping in between her and Boyd, the cocky grin on his face before he pulled a pistol from his side, and the sound of the gun going off.

Chapter 13

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 6

Adore You

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.2k

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies​​​ @how-are-those-nuts-sarge​​​ @iilovemusic12us​​​ @hesbuckcompton-baby​​​ @tvserie-s-world​​​ @whovian45810​​ @50svibes​​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): The beginning of this is just a touch NSFW, but nothing explicit. Also, mentions of abuse and later abortion. 

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5

AO3 link

Chapter 6 here we go!!!

Sunlight pooled into the room above the Blue Boar, warming the skin of the two bodies tangled up in the sheets upon the bed. It illuminated for Juliet all the places Ron had touched her the night before, the memory of it as electrifying and sensual as the moment itself. She stirred to look up at his sleeping face, goosebumps erupting over her as she recalled the number of times she’d whined his name as he drew climax after climax out of her. It made her squirm against him now from her spot tucked into his side. No one had ever made love to her like that before, and she found herself hungry for more already. 

To steady herself, she listened to his heart, counting the beats coming steady and strong. It didn’t help quell the ache between her thighs because she just remembered bracing herself against that firm chest as she straddled and rode him. Face growing warm with all the images of their tryst, she shifted again. This time, enough to wake him. 

“Morning,” he said, voice raspy with sleep. “‘M surprised you’re up. Must not have done my job right.” 

“Believe me, you did more than enough,” she returned, pressing her lips to his chest, right beside the faint marks from her fingers. Her own voice was a bit hoarse as well, but she had used it quite a bit during the evening.

“I see,” he smirked. “You want more then.” 

Very few people could make Juliet Fletcher blush, but that made her cheeks burn. He was right after all. Even with everything they had done, she was eager to have him again. And again and again and again…

“Shut up,” she grumbled. 

“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Tell me what you’d rather I do with my mouth.” 

She giggled at that, biting her lip as she considered his offer. “I want it on mine.” 

True to his word, he said nothing, but pulled her close for a deep, heated kiss. Their lips were still slightly swollen from the night before, but it didn’t stop them. There was no rush this morning, just gentle exploration, soft moans, and slow hands. 

As his mouth trailed from her jawline to her collarbone, he stopped, something on her skin standing out to him - something he hadn’t noticed in the night. A circular, red scar where her collarbone met her shoulder. He gently touched it with his index finger. 

“Birthmark?” he guessed, but something in his gut told him he was wrong. 

She shook her head. “Scar. The cigar was a pretty typical threat for Dad, but he made good on it once when I got carried away with back chat. And Billy wasn’t around.” 

His face shifted just slightly when his jaw stiffened and his mouth turned down. “How old were you?” 

“Ten,” she told him. “I don’t even remember what I said or why we were fighting. But I remember the pain, that’s for sure.” 

He met her gaze. “You’re awfully casual about something like that.” 

“It was so long ago,” she returned with half a shrug. “Honestly, I forget it’s there most of the time. And he’s gone now.” 

The way she averted her eyes told him it bothered her more than she was letting on, but he didn’t pry. Instead, he pressed his lips to the scar in a display of tenderness that nearly took her breath away. It did not erase what her father had done, but it felt more healed than it ever had before. 

After their morning round, they decided they needed food or they’d never be able to keep this up. So they headed downstairs.

Juliet hummed through most of breakfast, which was a stroke to Ron’s ego, but he didn’t mention it. He just watched her pop a bit of food into her mouth and do her little in-seat dance that was fucking precious in his opinion and appreciated that he was with her. It seemed odd that the last time they’d had breakfast, they were perfect strangers. Just a few weeks later, they knew each other...well, intimately. 

“Why the book?” he asked suddenly. 

She looked at him mid-bite into some toast. “Hm?”

“Why did the book make you kiss me?” he said.

“It really wasn’t the book to be perfectly honest,” she said, setting the toast back on her plate. “It was what you did to get it.” 

He cocked his head to the side questioningly as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“The whole making up multiple bidders, and choosing Humphrey Bogart as the winning name,” she explained. “And then how much you paid for it. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.” 

“No way,” he returned. “Not even when you were engaged?” 

She shook her head. “Arthur was...a very self-centered man. He wasn’t unkind, but he had a role he wanted me to fulfill. And I was expected to do it without him putting in any effort to keep me there. I think...he always thought I was lucky to have him. So he never took on any grand gestures.”

“I’d hardly call bidding on your book a grand gesture,” he replied, unsure what else to say to that. Putting effort into someone you liked? Wasn’t that setting the bar a little low? That felt like the bare minimum. He had always thought of love as two people sort of earning each other, and continuing to prove that they cared. 

“It was to me,” she said, her voice soft and just a smidge quieter than usual. Which told him she was really touched by what he’d done. It didn’t surprise him since apparently the only man who had never let her down was her brother. “Thank you.” 

“Well, don’t get too mushy, I mostly did it so I can make fun of you,” he said, lightening the mood. 

She snorted. “You’ll get loads of material from that, trust me.” 

“You’re not afraid of what I’ll find?” he asked. 

“I’m not afraid of anything,” she shot back, a determined gleam in her eye. 

For a moment, he believed her. She did seem to put almost her whole self out there for the world to see, so ready to take a risk. With the father she had and the heartbreak she’d endured, it would have been especially understandable for her to be afraid of everything and everyone. But she took the world head on, and had even opened herself up to him, without once asking him for any sort of promise for a future. She was so remarkable to him, he just sat back and admired her. Until she froze and the color drained from her face. 

“Jules?” 

She didn’t answer him, she only stared at a spot on the table, eyes fixed on something in the middle. He followed her gaze and saw a small spider, maybe a couple centimeters long, creeping across the wood. 

“Juliet?” 

“Fucking shit!” she cried, leaping from her seat. The chair scraped against the floor before toppling onto its side as she scampered away, pressing her body into the wall on the other side of the pub. “Ron, you have to kill it!” 

He gaped at her, utterly astounded. “Are you serious?” 

Her ghost-like complexion told him she was, but she nodded her head anyway, eyes wide with paralyzing fear. 

“Spiders?” he questioned. “That’s what gets you?” 

“They’re creepy!” she insisted. “It’s perfectly normal to be -”

“It’s the size of a -”

“I DON’T GIVE A GOOD GODDAMN HOW BIG IT IS, RON, JUST KILL THE BLOODY THING!” 

Resisting the urge to laugh, he picked up a napkin and slapped it down over the spider, wiping it away before balling it up and walking it over to a trash bin to dispose of the remains. When the coast was clear, he approached her and she shuddered. 

“Ugh, I still feel it on me,” she said. 

“It never touched you,” he reminded her. 

She scowled. “Look at my face.”

“I am looking at your face.” 

“Does it look like I want to be sassed?” 

“It does not.” 

“Then keep your little opinions to yourself.” 

“Not an opinion,” he returned. “It really didn’t touch you.” 

“What did I just say?” she shot back. 

“You’re being unreasonable,” he said. 

“Okay, and?”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just finish breakfast.” 

“No way!” she cried. “I’m not going back over there, what if there are more of them?” 

“There aren’t.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I do, actually, I was just there.” 

“Can’t we just leave?” she asked. 

“Juliet, I promise if there are any more spiders, I will kill them just as swiftly and mercilessly as this one,” he said. “Let’s finish our meal.” 

She eyed him skeptically, as if at any moment he would open up his jacket to reveal a secret stash of spiders just waiting to assault her, but he only held out his hand. Reluctantly, she took it and allowed him to lead her back to the table. He resumed his seat right away, but she inspected hers first. Satisfied there were no more spiders, she sat. 

He sipped his coffee. “So, is it just spiders or all bugs?” 

“Spiders, mostly,” she answered. “Other bugs I can take care of myself.” 

“Why spiders, then?” 

“It’s just a thing,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t explain it.” 

He could have argued there was a lot about her that couldn’t be explained, but decided against pointing that out. He just took another sip of coffee. She reached for her fork. 

“Juliet, wait!” he said urgently. “I think I see another one!” 

She screamed and hurled the fork away from her. It soared over to the adjacent table and clattered onto it before skidding to a stop. She looked over at it, chest heaving with her frightened breaths. Incidentally, it was free of any creatures. She glowered at Ron and the infuriating smirk on his face.

“That’s not funny,” she grumbled. 

“It’s a little funny,” he returned. 

“I loathe you right now.” 

“I can live with that.” 

She snatched his fork from in front of him and used it instead. “You’re a bully.” 

“Eat your eggs,” he replied. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she retorted. 

He shot her a steely look, and she stuck her tongue out at him before taking a bite of her eggs. She chewed and swallowed. 

“That’s a good dad look you’ve got there,” she said. “D’you use it on your subordinates?”

“Dad look?” he questioned. 

“Y’know, the stern look,” she said. “You pull it off well.” 

“You seeing that as paternal is only a little bit disturbing,” he replied. 

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “I didn’t have the best example.” 

“I’d say you probably had one of the worst,” he said. 

“Wouldn’t fight you there.” 

“To answer your question, if my men disappoint me, I make it known, in whatever way the situation calls for,” he said. 

“That’s...vague,” she said. 

He only shrugged again before he changed the subject. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” 

“I’m actually taking the train to Trowbridge to interview the defense attorney for the Lee case,” she said. “I should be back by this evening, though.” 

“You want some company?” he offered. “We don’t have any training going on today.” 

She blinked. “Really?” 

“Sure,” he said. “Despite your attitude, I kinda like spending time with you.” 

“Flattering,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I actually...would love that. Thank you.” 

Once again, something so basic was - to her - going above and beyond. It was clear to him that Juliet had become accustomed to a certain level of interest in her, and it was low. He hoped to prove otherwise. 

***

Trowbridge was not much bigger than Aldbourne, there was just more going on since it was the capital of the county. Juliet was meeting the defense attorney at his office, and she confessed to Ron she was a bit nervous about the interview. He wasn’t an attorney that worked for the government, he was in private practice. His name was Harvey Cooper, and when Juliet had done some background on him, she discovered he was well-known for cases like the Lee case. He had actually sought out Meredith Fisher when the police report came through about Peggy’s body. There was a lot that could go wrong, but Ron reminded her that there was also a lot that could go well. 

They arrived at the office, where they were greeted by a secretary. Harvey emerged from his office with a smile that would have been more appropriate for a salesman than a defense attorney for a murder case. He shook Juliet’s hand, accepted without question that Ron was her photographer, and took them back to his office. He gave a brief, cheerful tour of the place, explaining that he’d done some updating, but was limited because of the war. Juliet and Ron exchanged a surprised look at the man’s chipper disposition. 

“Well, Miss Fletcher, I must say I’m surprised you’re working this story,” Harvey said as they all took seats in his office, Juliet and Ron on one of the desk, and Harvey on the other. “I read some past issues of the London Pursuit, and saw you were an entertainment writer.” 

“Yes,” she said gracefully. “I got a bit of a promotion, you see, with the majority of the men otherwise occupied.” 

“Sure, sure,” Harvey replied. “Of course, in my line of work, I’m more than aware of what women are capable of.” 

Ron watched Juliet’s careful disguise of her distaste to that remark. She forced a smile and tucked her hair behind her ear, before retrieving her notepad and pencil from her bag. 

“Certainly,” she said. “Which brings me to the point at hand. I’ve spoken to the prosecution about Meredith Fisher’s case, and the evidence is really strong. How do you plan to plead?” 

“Not guilty,” Harvey answered simply. 

“On what grounds?” she asked, unsurprised by that answer. 

“Institutional failure,” he said. 

That took her aback. She blinked for a moment and sat back in her seat. “Institutional failure?” 

“Absolutely,” he said. “Operation Pied Piper was under prepared and under planned. According to my research, no one vetted any of the families who agreed to take in children. If you signed up, you were approved, no questions asked.” 

Juliet’s brow furrowed. “While that’s certainly interesting, it doesn’t absolve Mrs. Fisher of responsibility for her individual actions. No other unvetted family has done this.” 

“But they could have,” he insisted. “I believe Mrs. Fisher is being made into a scapegoat for something that could have reasonably happened to any number of the children who were part of the program.” 

She stared at him for a long moment, and Ron watched her. He could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. Ron didn’t quite understand it either - it was a flimsy argument. 

“Are you...are you taking the piss?” she questioned. 

“Not in the slightest,” Harvey said. 

“Mr. Cooper, that argument is generally only used in civil cases for things like job termination,” she said. “This is murder. And it didn’t happen to any of the other children. Mrs. Fisher isn’t a stand in for something that’s been happening nationwide, this is a single instance.” 

“But, if the committee in Parliament had done its job, Peggy Lee would never have gone to the Fisher home,” he said. 

“Why?” Juliet pressed. “Does Mrs. Fisher have a record of violence?” 

“No, but one interview could have told them that she had no children of her own,” he said. “They never could conceive - a naturally devastating thing for a woman. Who would trust her with a child after discovering that?” 

She froze, and Ron watched something flash behind her eyes. A storm was brewing inside her, a hellish anger at the implication there. He didn’t agree with what Harvey was saying either, but that was just the sort of comment that set Juliet off. 

“Your entire argument is childless women being unhinged simply because they are childless,” she said, and there was a strain on her voice to keep it level. “There are plenty of women who cannot have children who do not go around murdering other people’s, myself included. Your head is up your ass if you think this will be an acceptable defense in a court of law!” 

It took Ron a moment to fully absorb what she had just admitted. He wondered for a fleeting second if Juliet was bluffing, but she was too ethical. In situations like this, she wouldn’t lie - not about something so serious. He also wondered if it was something he could ask her about, but that was a conversation for later. 

“Any doctor would diagnose her as unstable,” Harvey said, face darkening. “And I don’t appreciate your tone, Miss Fletcher.” 

“I don’t appreciate your ignorance, Mr. Cooper,” she shot back. “She wasn’t diagnosed as anything except woman, and that was by you, not a doctor.”

“Hold on -”

“So if I - I dunno - leapt over this desk and strangled you,” she cut across him, and Ron held back a laugh. “You would reasonably expect another attorney to argue that it’s the responsibility of the London Pursuit because they should have known, say, that my ex-fiancée was an attorney therefore I’m more likely to kill one? Because scorned women are known to be more furious?” 

“That’s not the same.” 

“It’s exactly the same, only in your case, worse,” she snapped. “A child is dead, and you are making a mockery of the fight for justice.” 

“I’m doing my job -” 

“Your job should entail getting Mrs. Fisher evaluated by a doctor and arguing down her sentence based on her mental capacity,” she returned. “Instead, you are reducing her to a monster because she is unable to give birth.” 

“I’m not -” 

“Even if it were true - which it isn't,” she interrupted him again. “It would still be her own fault for putting her hands on a child!” 

Harvey slammed his hands down on his desk, which prompted Ron to get to his feet, but Juliet didn’t even flinch. She stared that lawyer down as if they were in the courtroom already and she was the cross examiner. She was so unafraid it was almost difficult to believe that just hours ago a little spider had sent her running across the room. 

“Miss Fletcher,” Harvey said levelly, casting a sideways glance at Ron. “You clearly came into this interview with your mind made up about my client and this case. I must ask you to leave.” 

She stood up. “You’re right, I did come in here with my mind made up,” she said. “But that’s because I’ve got the facts. Unlike you, Mr. Cooper, I do not rely on drollery to do my job.” 

“That’s a bold statement coming from a woman -” 

“Do not ever reduce me to my sex, Mr. Cooper,” she snapped. “Yours certainly will not protect you from being intentionally stripped of your dignity.” 

With that, she turned on her heel and swept out of the office. Harvey stood up. He went around his desk and started after her. 

“Hold on, what does that mean?!” he called. 

Ron intercepted him at the doorway, stopping Harvey with a hand to the chest. 

“No,” Ron said simply, with a warning look. It went without saying that Ron had about fifty pounds on Harvey, so if he followed them out, there would be consequences. When that was well understood, Ron went after Juliet. 

She was already outside by the time he caught up, and she was waiting for him. The wind blew her hair, and he was briefly struck by how attractive she looked. He was already aroused by how she did in the interview. When he wasn’t on the receiving end of her ranting, it really was something. It was something when he was, but ultimately more enjoyable when it was directed at someone else. Because he could just sit back to watch her go and admire her. 

“Well done back there,” he said. 

“What an absolute wanker,” she said. “Institutional failure, what a fucking joke. And how insulting for Mrs. Fisher. Everyone deserves a lawyer who takes them seriously. And he clearly doesn’t.” 

He only nodded in agreement. “What did you mean by the dignity stripping comment?” 

“I can’t print anything about this until the trial happens, but believe me, that conversation will be included in the article,” she said. “I’m not normally one to get set on taking someone down, but if he seeks cases like this out just to pull stunts like that, the public should be aware.” 

Her face was red with frustration and her pace had quickened. Luckily, Ron had no trouble keeping up since his strides were longer than hers. His own heart was racing, but mostly out of his excitement about her. When there was a break in the buildings, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into the alleyway, pinning her against the wall. He stifled her yelp of surprise with a searing kiss. He wanted to show her how much he felt for her. She was smart, passionate, and annoyingly ethical, but he adored her. Seeing her in action only reinforced just how much. 

She moaned into his mouth before they broke apart for air, but clung to his jacket so he wouldn’t get too far away. Her eyes took a moment to re-focus on him after the dizzying intensity of his kiss. 

“You’re incredible,” he breathed. 

She searched his face for something behind his words, but found him genuine. “Thank you.” 

She bit her lip as she looked him up and down, that hunger from the morning returning to her. She craved him again, and when he smirked she knew he was aware of the effect he had. 

“God, what’s wrong with me?” she sighed, shaking her head. 

“Plenty, but I really like you anyway,” he returned, and she beamed. “You wanna get back to Aldbourne?” 

She nodded eagerly. “God, yes.” 

He turned to get onto the street again, but she pulled him back for another kiss, this one just a little longer than the last. 

It was on the train back to Aldbourne that he decided to inquire about what he heard her say in Harvey’s office. Her head rested on his shoulder as the countryside whizzed by, slowly disappearing as the sun sank behind the horizon. He looked at the yellow glow on her face and couldn’t help himself. 

“You really can’t have children?” he asked. 

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Oh, crikey, I almost forgot I mentioned that.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it if -”

“No, it’s quite alright,” she assured him as she sat up. “We are sleeping together, so you’ve got a right to know.” She paused and looked down at her lap before continuing. “I was pregnant once. By a man I’d been seeing only a few weeks. But I was nineteen years old and terrified of what life would be like with a child I didn’t really want.” She fiddled with the handles of her bag. “So I made the decision to terminate. Only, something went wrong, and I was told because of the mistake, I’d be unable to have children. That’s the long and short of it.” 

The confession should have been shocking, but he found himself remarkably indifferent. He wanted to know more about it, but the act itself did not bother him in the slightest. 

“Did you tell the father?” he wondered. 

She shook her head. “No. I’d made up my mind and I didn’t want him to try and persuade me to change it.”

“So you went alone?” he asked. 

“No, Billy took me,” she told him. “No questions asked. He was the only one who understood.”

“Understood?” 

“I wasn’t ready for marriage or a child,” she explained. “I had so much more I wanted to do with my life.” She met his gaze. “And I’ve done it.” 

“So, no regrets, then?” he questioned hesitantly. 

She pondered that, glancing out the window before looking back at his face. “Not really, no. I’m not suited for motherhood, anyway.” She bit her lip. “Is that...is that a problem?” 

Honestly, he had not thought much about the future, especially since the war started. It was dangerous to hope. Juliet had awakened some of that in him - some glimmer of faith that he could go to war and come back to her. But children? He had never thought that far ahead, so life without them didn’t feel like a disappointment. He just wanted her. 

“No, not at all,” he replied. 

She visibly relaxed at that, letting out a low breath before easing herself back into his side. Before she got there, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and made her look at him once more. 

“And by the way, we’re more than just sleeping together,” he said, and he kissed her smile. 

She settled against him and closed her eyes. He draped his arm around her shoulders. They were content.

[iwanthermidnightz]

When she was 18, Taylor Swift wrote a song called “Fifteen.” “Back then I swore I was going to marry him someday, but I realized some bigger dreams of mine,” she sang, sounding more like a wizened great-grandmother than a rising senior.

“Fifteen” is evocative, if a little sanitized: Nimble mandolin strums mimic the nervous-excited butterflies of the first day of high school, as Swift sings of wide-eyed hope that “one of those senior boys will wink at you and say, ‘You know I haven’t seen you around before.’”

There was a certain emotional truth to the lyrics — do several years’ age difference ever seem more consequential than when you’re a teenager? — but some older listeners were skeptical. “You applaud her skill,” wrote a critic for the Guardian in a mixed review of Swift’s second album, “Fearless,” “while feeling slightly unsettled by the thought of a teenager pontificating away like Yoda.”

Swift, now 31, sings, “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” on “Folklore,” an LP that is both compositionally mature and braided throughout with references to the specific, oft-denigrated wisdom of teenagers. By the end of that song, “Cardigan,” the narrator has excavated such a heap of florid but emotionally lucid memories that she must conclude, with the force of a sudden revelation, “I knew everything when I was young.”

Though it’s not as flashy a topic as exes, fame or A-list celebrity feuds, age has long been a recurring theme in Swift’s work. A numerology enthusiast with a particular attachment to 13, Swift has also released a handful of songs whose titles refer to specific ages: “Seven,” “Fifteen,” and, of course, “22,” the chatty “Red” hit on which she summed up that particular junction of emerging adulthood as feeling “happy, free, confused and lonely at the same time.” Like her contemporary Adele, Swift seems to enjoy time-stamping her music, sometimes presenting it like a public-facing scrapbook that will always remind her what it felt like to be a certain age — even if, with their millions of fans and armfuls of Grammys, neither of these women is exactly typical.

Swift’s critics have often seemed even more hyper attuned to her age. Perhaps because precocity played such a role in her story from the beginning — at 14, she became the youngest artist to sign a publishing deal with Sony/ATV; at 20, she became the youngest to win the album of the year Grammy — many listeners have been fascinated with how her evolution into adulthood has, or hasn’t, played out in her songs. People comb Swift’s lyrics for allusions to sex, alcohol and profanity as meticulously as MPAA representatives do a borderline-PG movie. Particular attention was paid to her 2017 album “Reputation” and its several mentions of drunkenness and dive bars — even though Swift was 27 when it came out.

The relative puritanism of Swift’s music up until “Reputation” did feel like an intentional decision: Unlike the female pop stars who broadcast their “loss of innocence” as a sudden and irrevocable transformation, Swift seemed acutely conscious that she did not want to repel younger listeners — or lose the approval of their parents. At best, it felt like an acceptance of her status as a role model; at worst, it had the whiff of a marketing strategy.

But the mounting obsession with whether Swift was “acting her age” also reflected a larger societal double standard. Famous or not, women face much more intense scrutiny around age, whether it’s those constant cultural reminders of the biological clock’s supposed ticking or the imperative that women of all ages stay “fresh-faced” or risk their own obsolescence. (“People say I’m controversial,” Madonna said in 2016. “But I think the most controversial thing I have ever done is to stick around.”) And while girlish youth and ingenuity are rewarded in some contexts, they’re also easily dismissed as silly and frivolous as soon as that girl strays too close to the sun — as Swift has experienced time and again.

Despite having once been a teenage girl myself (unlike a lot of music critics), I confess that I am not completely free of these internalized biases. I was initially dismissive of “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince,” a song that appeared on Swift’s 2019 album “Lover.” The first few times I heard it, I wondered what a grown woman on the cusp of 30 was doing still writing about homecoming queens and teenage gossip.

But over time, I’ve come to appreciate the song and its dark vision, which acknowledges cruelty, depression and the threat of sexual violence (“Boys will be boys then, where are the wise men?”) more directly than any of the songs Swift wrote when she was an actual teenager. The senior boys in this song are not the sort who wink and say to freshman girls wholesome things like, “Haven’t seen you around before” — which, unfortunately, makes them feel more authentic. Even the title “Miss Americana” alludes to a larger world outside the high school walls, and the greater systemic forces that keep such patterns repeating well into adulthood.

“Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” now feels like a precursor to some of the richest songs on “Folklore,” which finds Swift returning once again to her school days with the keen, selectively observant eye of an adult. Consider “Seven,” an impressionistic recreation of her perspective at that age. The second verse, charmingly, plays like a first-grader’s breathless sequence of unguarded observations:

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why/And I think you should come live with me and we can be pirates, then you won’t have to cry.”

But “Seven” is not cutesy so much as poignant, because of the tensions that result when Swift’s adult perspective interjects. “Please, picture me in the trees, before I learned civility,” she sings in a yearning soprano, prompting the listener to wonder what sorts of feral pleasure she — and all of us — have exchanged for the supposed “civility” of adulthood.

Quite a few songs on “Evermore,” Swift’s second release of 2020, also toggle between past and present, conscious of what is lost and gained by the passage of time. The playful “Long Story Short” passes a note to Swift’s younger self (“Past me, I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things”), while “Dorothea,” like “Seven,” revisits a fevered childhood friendship from the cool perspective of adulthood.

Most striking is the bonus track “Right Where You Left Me,” a twangy tale of a “girl who got frozen” (“Time went on for everybody else, she won’t know it/She’s still 23, inside her fantasy”). That language echoes something Swift admits in the 2020 Netflix documentary “Miss Americana”: “There’s this thing people say about celebrities, that they’re frozen at the age they got famous. And that’s kind of what happened to me. I had a lot of growing up to do just trying to catch up to 29.”

But Swift’s recent songs, at their best, understand that “growing up” isn’t always a linear progression in the direction of something more valuable. Take the “Folklore” songs “Cardigan” and “Betty,” which use an interconnected set of characters to chronicle teenage drama and celebrate the heightened emotional knowledge of youth. “I’m only 17, I don’t know anything, but I know I miss you,” Swift sings in the voice of James, a high schooler who broke Betty’s heart and has shown up on her doorstep to ask forgiveness. Maybe that is a melodramatic thing to do; maybe it is the sort of thing adults could stand to do more often. Swift’s music helps us to remember that growing up doesn’t automatically mean growing wiser — it can just as easily mean compromise, self-denial and growing numb to emotions we once felt with bracing intensity.

In a gesture to regain control of her songs, Swift is currently rerecording her first six albums (her master recordings were recently sold by Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings to the investment firm Shamrock Capital). Last month she released a note-for-note update of her early hit “Love Story,” and has promised to release an entire new-old version of “Fearless (Taylor’s Version)” later this year. It has been amusing to think of Swift going back and inhabiting the voice of her teenage self: On the face of it, “Fifteen” is particularly surreal to imagine her singing as an adult.

In another way, though, “Fifteen” — with its distant reflections on the youthful folly of expectations — makes more sense and carries more emotional weight being sung by a 30-something than it does an 18-year-old. Perhaps Swift was preparing for such an exercise when she made “Folklore,” an album that shakes off years of scrutiny and finds her reveling in the creative freedom to be as young or as old as she wants to be.

[sourwolphs]

Like an Animal - Bucky x Reader (5/8)

Read on Ao3 (for better interface + formatting)

Summary: Reader is an enhanced Omega kidnapped by Hydra and trapped in a cell with Alpha Bucky Barnes. Tags: A/B/O, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending Warnings: Rated M A/N: Angst ;) And Bucky being cute as all hell. Leave a comment on Ao3 if you’re enjoying!

The sound of Bucky’s door slamming down the hallway resounded like a thud in my chest. At the risk of sounding like a hopelessly romantic, dopey-eyed Omega, it felt like something cracked inside of me.

For the briefest moment in the lounge, I had caught his scent— that Alphacomforthomesafe scent I’d searched for for weeks. Just a hint of it had sent a jolt of electricity, hope and relief through my entire being. We’d locked eyes— his facial expression carefully blank, beard unshaven and growing long, hand gripping white-knuckled into the strap of his duffle bag, before he had fled to his room— leaving behind the confusing, raw scents of guilt and despair behind him.

Natasha and Steve both looked to me in concern, before engaging in a silent conversation through their facial expressions. Both smelled overwhelmingly of unease, but neither said anything to abate the awkward tension suffusing the room. Steve gave a lame excuse for Bucky, looking bewildered as he did so— something about the other Alpha having a rough few weeks, but I quickly bowed out of the lounge, retreating back to my apartment to process the heartbreaking fact that he’d been away, and now that he was back, he clearly wanted nothing to do with me.

Maybe he was just shy, I thought, self-comforting. But he hadn’t been shy in that cell. He’d been quick to introduce himself, to alleviate my fear by baring his throat to me.

Maybe I’d made him uncomfortable. Had I made him uncomfortable? It’s not like I could stop myself from falling into a sympathy heat, especially under the influence of an Alpha purr.

Then there was the other creeping, dreadful thought that had been plaguing my thoughts for the past few weeks: Maybe he already has an Omega.

I hadn’t smelled one on him in that cell, hadn’t felt a bond mark on his neck, but both could have been hidden under the scents of rut and fear, and the filth of our surroundings.

I even briefly worried that he was Wanda’s mate, since I’d never met the Alpha she always spoke about with a soft and wistful smile. But when I tentatively asked after her mate later that night during our evening Full House marathon, she had given me a sad smile and told me he was working off-world.

I barely slept the night after Bucky came home. Knowing that he was just a floor away made the longing even harder, my Omega anxious and desperate for comfort. I shuffled through a hundred different explanations— each more frustrating and heartbreaking than the last— for why he’d been away for so long, why he’d reacted the way he did when he saw me, why his scent had reeked of guilt and sadness.

But above all— my Omega worried viciously whether he was okay. The connection I felt to him burnt bright and hot within me, tugging at my heart. Find Alpha. Comfort Alpha.

I tried my hardest to bury my thoughts deep down, feeling like a crazy person. Bucky barely knew me, and here I was lying in bed, staking a mental claim on him like some feral, unsocialized Omega. For all I knew, he was snuggled up with his bondmate, recovering from the turmoil of our kidnapping in his or her embrace, thoughts of me all but forgotten.

The next day, I moved tentatively around the compound, bracing myself for an interaction. I’d run through one hundred potential scenarios in my mind— one hundred introductions, one hundred apologies, one hundred questions I wanted answered. But one day stretched into two, stretched into a week, without anything more than a flash of his retreating form as he exited the gym before I entered one afternoon.

Despite his intentional or unintentional attempts to avoid me, he couldn’t erase his lingering scent, which tucked itself into every available corner of the compound, driving my Omega insane with want and worry.

Rationally, I knew that the compound smelled like everyone— like determined Steve after a boxing match, like Sam’s bubbly joy over breakfast, like Wanda’s gentle concern, like Natasha’s smug laughter, like Stark’s curiosity.

But even knowing that I could smell everyone didn’t stop my Omega from catching his scent in every room— musky, heady cedar, warm and inviting campfire. It was maddening.

On top of the Alpha scent that left my brain in a muddled haze, there was also the situation with the gifts.

They weren’t really gifts. But, I didn’t know what else to call them.

The first one appeared three days after Bucky returned to the compound.

When I shuffled out to the kitchen around six am for a coffee and some eggs with Sam, I found my favorite mug (a cute green ceramic one made to look like a tin camping cup) already set out on the countertop, along with a spoon, a pot of sugar and a folded napkin. Next to it, the coffee pot was spitting out the last few dregs of brew— fresh and hot.

At first, I thought it was Sam who’d prepped the coffee for me, and a warm smile spread across my face at the Beta’s sincere care and friendship. But then he appeared ten minutes later, still in his camo pajamas, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes, and I frowned. Sam and I were the only early risers around here, as far as I knew. But maybe he’d fallen back asleep after getting up to make coffee.

The next day, my yoga mat was missing from its usual spot tucked high into a cubby on the wall in the gym. Figuring I’d left it in Natasha’s training room, I headed in that direction, only to find it rolled up neatly right outside the door, along with a massive, full water bottle and a charged pair of StarkPods. Weird. These Avenger Betas sure do let the hero thing get to their head, I thought. Sure enough, Natasha was already inside, balancing in a graceful arabesque as I readied myself for yoga. I thanked her with a smile and nod, which she returned.

The day after that, Steve and I got way too riled up on our morning run with Sam, and I tried to outpace him (failing, spectacularly) one too many times, causing me to have to limp back home with blisters on the back of my heels from my running shoes. After a shower in my room, I nearly tripped over a little pile of blister bandages and antibiotic cream sitting outside my door, which I snatched up, eager not to have to poke around the medbay for something as simple as band-aids. Even Steve was getting in on this babying nonsense, I thought. Maybe I wasn’t hiding my distressed Omega scent as well as I’d thought, moping around after Bucky.

Later that week, I meandered down to the movie room for another previously scheduled watch party with Sam. I got there about 20 minutes early, planning to stake out my favorite spot before the others arrived, but I found Wanda already in the movie room, flicking through channels on the projector-TV. She was working her way through a bag of crispy Gozinaki— her favorite sweet snack from her childhood in Sokovia. Steve always made sure to keep bags of it stocked in the common kitchen, attentive Alpha provider as he was.

In my usual spot on the shaggy brown couch rested a fluffy, folded plaid blanket, with a pair of soft gloves on top.

“Aw, Wanda, you didn’t have to do this,” I said, scooping up the blanket to tug around my shoulders, my inner Omega shivering in delight at the cozy texture. Perfect for a nest, my mind unhelpfully supplied. The past couple of movie nights, I’d been complaining about my cold hands, especially after long afternoons training with Wanda left my limbs frigid and achy from the force of my abilities. Sometimes it took hours to get my skin back to a human-feeling temperature. I slipped the navy blue gloves on gratefully.

Wanda looked over at my snuggled up form and quirked a brow. “Those were there when I got here. I thought you left them for tonight,” she said curiously.

I looked down at the blanket as if it would give me an answer, then brought it up to my face for a curious sniff. The faintest scent of cedar wood hit my nose.

Alpha.  

I felt a whoosh in my head and stomach, like I was floating away from my body, and knew I must have had a dazed expression on my face.

If Bucky had left the blanket and the gloves… Maybe it wasn’t Sam who’d prepped my coffee. Maybe it wasn’t Natasha with the yoga mat and the water, or Steve with the blister bandages.

But why would Bucky…

“I can hear the gears turning in your brain from over here,” Wanda interrupted. “I take it it wasn’t you who left that pile down here?”

I shook my head, biting my lip as I muddled through my thoughts. If I was going to talk about what I’d been feeling for Bucky with anyone, Wanda would be the least likely to judge. She was a fellow Omega, after all.

“Can I ask you something? About your mate?” I hedged.

Wanda nodded, brushing crumbs from her lap before standing to sit down next to me on the shaggy couch. “Anything.”

“I’ve been here for over a month, and I still haven’t met him. And I wonder— What does it… feel like. For you. When he’s away.”

Wanda smiled, soft and wistful. “My mate is the Vision. He is not really human, but he was programmed as an Alpha, and when we mated, he gave me his mark,” she explained, reaching up to the back of her neck to press her hand to her mating gland. I had seen the shiny silver scars before, when Wanda had swept her hair up into a ponytail off the back of her neck during a training sesh.

“Even though he is not human— he does not have a scent as you or I do— I still struggled with what we Sokovians call gajovi. It means “heart-rending,” the feeling when you are separated from your bondmate. The longer we have been bonded, the easier it is to be apart. But I still sometimes feel the ache. Like a physical pain, inside,” she offered, moving her hand to the center of her chest, the same place where I had felt the same unbearable ache for weeks.

I took a deep breath, willing my scent to stay calm as anxiety, uncertainty and confusion warred in my mind. I feel the same thing.

“Do you ever feel like you need him… to fall asleep?” I asked, cheeks flushing. Even though we had grown close, I still felt uncomfortable asking Wanda about my craving for Bucky’s purr, as it was such an intimate act between mates.

“I have a feeling we are no longer talking about Vision,” she murmured, no judgement on her face. She placed a comforting hand on my knee, and I felt some of the tension in my body release slowly. “Sometimes it feels impossible to sleep. To eat. To even get out of bed. A bond is the most beautiful and powerful connection you can have, but it also makes you vulnerable. When things are bad, I can… feel him. Through the bond. We support each other,” she explained. Wanda closed her eyes momentarily, and I knew she was reaching through her bond to feel her mate, thousands of miles away. A warm smile crept across her face as whatever she was projecting through the universe was returned in kind.

While I was undeniably happy for Wanda and her mate, my heart ached at the realization that I was experiencing the same or similar withdrawal symptoms after my time with Bucky. But without a bondmark on my neck, without the connection she used to draw soothing strength from her mate, I was drifting— alone in a sea of longing and pain.

Wanda scented my sour sadness, giving me an empathetic look. “Do you? Have a bondmate?”

I saw her eyes flick towards my neck, where a bond mark would be, knowing that she had already seen my gland void of any bite scars.

I shook my head, looking down at my still-gloved hands in my lap.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated. Instead, she placed one hand in mine.

I wondered, then, if she knew more than she was letting on.

“When will Vision be home?” I asked, changing the subject and forcefully shaking off my sadness.

“This month,” she said, unable to hide the smile that crept across her face.

“What’s got the lovely ladies down?” Sam teased, interrupting our moment as he stepped into the movie room with a massive, unopened bag of Cajun-spiced Lays tucked under his arm.

Steve was right behind him, looking cozy in what was probably an XXXL hooded red sweatshirt. He came up behind my couch wordlessly, wrapping me up in a huge bear hug. I laughed, leaning into him and allowing his comforting Alpha scent to wipe away the remaining tendrils of my unease drifting in the air. I’d learned quickly that Steve was generous with his affection, and extremely protective— the type of Alpha an Omega could only dream of finding. Not an aggressive and possessive knothead, but a supportive provider and protector— always there when you needed him, but never overbearing.

Just like Bucky, my brain unhelpfully supplied. I shook away the thought. You barely know him.

I could hardly focus on the movie Sam selected, some Russell Crowe action flick set in Ancient Rome. I was too lost in my thoughts, curled up in the blanket Bucky had inexplicably left for me, squished between Steve and Wanda on the couch.

If I didn’t know better, it would seem like Bucky was trying to court me with these weird offerings, like some old-fashioned, 1940s Alpha would woo an Omega with flowers and chocolates. But even if he was, that didn’t explain his flightiness, or the bond withdrawal-like symptoms I was experiencing, or the frightening possibility that it was just me suffering from them. Faulty Omega.

Either way, after my conversation with Wanda, my resolve had hardened. I had to confront Bucky, even though my inner Omega withered at the thought. I needed to know if he was feeling the same way I was. And if not? Well, then— I’d cleared the air. That was that. I’d give him his space, leaving the compound and the pack behind if I had to. Go back to being on my own.

The thought made my hands tremble.

I clasped them resolutely in my lap, leaning closer into Steve’s absurdly thick bicep for comfort. At least for now, I could enjoy this.

————

Bucky has officially gone insane. After over 70 years of world war, Hydra torture, memory loss, coerced assassinations, cry0 chambers, getting dusted by a purple space god and fighting a war of disgusting aliens, it was one cute but deadly Omega that pushed his ancient Alpha ass over the edge.

After their disastrous reunion in the lounge, Bucky made it his personal mission to evade Y/N at all costs. He knew he was leaving the stink of shame all over the compound— both Steve and Sam called him out on it after they’d watched him flee the gym upon Y/N’s arrival one day— but even his snarling inner Alpha couldn’t get him to soften his resolve. There’s a reason he and Steve were thick as thieves from the jump— they were both infuriatingly stubborn people.

Y/N was happy here. That much was obvious. She left behind that peppermint-and-snow scent wherever she went— sweet with her joy, sharp with her determination— and he caught himself taking deep, pathetic inhales when she’d recently left a room that he’d entered.

In the mornings, he could hear her in the common room kitchen with Sam, laughing and bickering over the smell of eggs and bacon. In the movie room at night, right underneath his apartment, his super-soldier hearing clued him in to the team’s laughs and murmurs, the musical sound of her voice— unintelligible through the floor but soothing to his Alpha ears nonetheless.

He’d watched from a distance through the bulletproof glass a few times as she’d trained in the reinforced rooms with Wanda. Each time he spotted her she looked more and more powerful, more in control of the abilities that Hydra had kept locked away in restraints when they’d met in the cell. Wanda would watch patiently nearby, her red magic coiling along her fingers in anticipation as Y/N breathed in deeply, drawing her hands up in an elegant swoop along her midline before forcing them outwards in a jab, sending a spray of deadly ice shards at the steel wall, where they left hundreds of minuscule puncture wounds. Some days, the two Omegas would spill out a gallon of water on the floor, and Y/N would lift and arc it up into frozen creations, an intricate, jagged weapon or a delicate, curving flower, leafs of ice ivy crawling up the walls or pillars of impenetrable cold built from ceiling to floor.

What tore at him the most, though, even more than her delicious scent, which lingered on everything— and enticed more than a few embarrassing hard-ons he had to flee to his room to hide— was her scent mingled with another Alpha’s.

One Alpha in particular that hurt more than any other.

It hadn’t escaped Bucky’s notice that Y/N and Steve were spending lots of time together. Steve accompanied her on her morning runs— sometimes with Sam, sometimes without— but they always returned to the common areas flushed, sweaty and smiling, pumping out happy, sated pheromones. He’d passed the movie room and the lounge more than a few times to find her curled particularly close to him, his arm around the back of the couch behind her or her head resting against his bicep.

He’d even seen her and Steve sparring in the gym, Natasha and Sam cheering and whooping from the sidelines as she held her own against his restrained moves— a punch here, a kick there, which she dodged and delivered right back. They were comfortable in each other’s space. Comfortable enough that he’d even spotted her sleeping on the red lounge couch next to Steve one day, a book open in her lap while he sketched away in his notebook, using her hand draped off the side as an anatomy study. Her red socked feet were pillowed in his lap.

That mental image had kept Bucky up for a few nights, his Alpha flushed with an instinctual, possessive rage that he shoved shamefully down into the darkest recesses of his brain.

He couldn’t be mad. Even if his Alpha was roaring at him to step forward, to stake his claim, to pick her up and drown her in his scent, to crawl into her nest and cover her completely with his body.

He couldn’t be mad because she had sized up both Alphas and made what even he knew was the correct decision. Of course she had.

Why choose Bucky— broken, red-ledgered, half-vibranium, nightmare-riddled Bucky— when you could have the human embodiment of a golden retriever? Steve. The model Alpha. A gentle, caring provider— never aggressive or out of control, always protective, supportive and calm.

Plus, super-serum aside, Steve had always been handsome. Y/N wasn’t blind.

All of that is to say that Bucky hadn’t meant to start offering her gifts. It was his Alpha instinct, is all. Some feral, competitive nature still ingrained in his hindbrain. An instinct left over from a more primitive civilization, one where he would have had to prove to his Omega that he could be the best provider.

And if nothing else, leaving her the gifts soothed the terrible ache in his chest, helped him sleep another hour at night as he lay there agonizing about her smell, remembering how her face had felt cradled in his neck.

Wondering if she was sleeping in her room alone or curled up in her nest with Steve.

He knew that what he was feeling, what he was doing, was beyond wrong. If she knew why he was leaving her these gifts, she’d feel threatened, or stalked. He would be the creepy Alpha desperate for her attention.

But his hindbrain didn’t care. Alpha will provide.

It first started when he noticed that she always left the same green cup in the sink after breakfast. So one day, he got up early to leave it out for her— alongside a napkin, a spoon and the pot of sugar— though he didn’t yet know how she took her coffee. He also started the coffee pot just in case, slipping back to his room before she woke up, machine still whirring behind him.

Then, he noticed that she always ran out of water halfway through her yoga sessions with Natasha after she almost stumbled upon him in the kitchen the few times she’d come up to refill it. So Bucky topped up a 36 ounce bottle he found in the kitchen instead and left it outside the training room. Just so she won’t get thirsty, he reasoned. He couldn’t resist leaving her the yoga mat and earbuds as well. It was nothing. Not an exorbitant expense. Just something she needed, and would have gotten for herself anyway. What does it matter that he bought them for her first?

Then, he heard Sam ribbing her about her bleeding heels after their morning run, so he scrambled to the medbay to ask Dr. Cho for bandages and antiseptic— much to her confusion, as he didn’t ever need either. He dropped the supplies outside her door before she could finish showering off her run.

Then, he overheard her complaining about her cold hands one night as he passed the movie room. Bucky had to fight to repress the growl in his throat as he watched Steve take her hands into his own, rubbing them together for warmth while she laughed. He went back to his room and asked FRIDAY to help him order a pair of top-rated, insulated gloves in navy blue— he liked that color, but didn’t know if she did— as well as a blanket marketed as “perfect for nesting,” because he has officially lost all self-control. While the rest of the pack was out, he snuck into the movie room to leave the soft bundle on the couch that smelled the most like peppermint.

After a full week of secretive little offerings, Bucky was curled up on his own couch with a book, rubbing absentmindedly at his chest where the constant ache felt sharpest, when he heard someone start to turn the knob on his door.

It had taken him a few years, but he’d stopped jumping at unexpected noises like this, though he still often caught himself subconsciously scenting for threats, unable to shake the conditioned hyper vigilance. His Alpha instinct to constantly be prepared for a fight, made infinitely worse by Hydra’s torture, had gradually mellowed out with the safe reassurance of living with a pack. Knowing he had people close by who would protect him and people he would fiercely protect in return had served as a balm for his PTSD symptoms.

Bucky scented him before he saw him, but Steve slipped through the door upon finding it unlocked, giving Bucky his signature golden boy smile, before plopping into the armchair across from him.

“Hey, jerk. Are you avoiding me? Are you okay?”

Bucky felt his hackles raise as he caught a lingering whiff of Y/N on Steve and willed his expression into nonchalance. “No,” he said, before returning his gaze pointedly to the pages of the novel that he wasn’t really reading. “What makes you think I’m not okay?”

“Well, for one, you’ve barely left your room since I dragged you back here from Brooklyn, your apartment reeks like your dog just died and you’ve almost rubbed a hole through your shirt.”

Bucky quickly snatched his hand away from his chest where he’d continued rubbing circles without even noticing he was doing it. “I don’t have a dog,” he replied snidely.

His words came out a bit more venomously than he intended, and Steve’s easygoing expression faltered. Shit. He hadn’t meant to take his Alpha bullshit out on his best friend. It’s not like Steve was doing anything wrong. The problem was that he always did everything right.

“Sorry,” Bucky sighed, putting down his book and scraping a hand across his jaw, where his stubble was starting to border on a full-grown beard. Ugh. “I’m still just… processing.”

Steve gave him a concerned look, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re not still feeling guilty, are you?” Steve said. Bucky broke eye contact, studying the logo on the other Alpha’s oversized red sweatshirt instead. (“American University Est. 1918”— a gag gift from Tony last Christmas.)

“Buck— Come on, Y/N’s fine! Everyone loves her, and she’s doing great here. She doesn’t even talk about yo—“ Steve cut himself off, catching the grimace that flashed across Bucky’s face before he could reign it in. “I didn’t mean it like— She hasn’t even seen you, man, you’re always hiding away here or in the library.”

Bucky sighed again, tired yet begrudgingly appreciative of Steve’s attempts at soothing the issue. The other Alpha might not always know the right thing to say, but he was always earnest and honest about things.

“It’s okay, Steve, really. I just need some time, is all,” Bucky said, making a concerted effort to push out a less depressing version of his scent to mollify his best friend.

Steve gave him a tentative smile. “I talked to Fury about Y/N, by the way. Wanda told me she’s progressed a ton over the past month or so, you should really see her use her abilities in combat, it’s incredible! And Nat trusts her completely— you know she’s always the hardest to win over,” he said, his grin broadening. “I’m going to ask Y/N to join the team, officially, this week.”

The ache in Bucky’s chest ramped up, throbbing like a bass drum, but he forced out what he hoped was a convincing smile, knowing it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m glad she’s fitting in,” he said. And he was glad. He was thrilled to know that his Omega was safe, loved and happy, that she had grown her powers with Wanda, that Steve was asking her to join the Avengers.

Even though it meant that if he couldn’t get his own urges under control, he’d need to find a new pack.

“Why don’t you come join us downstairs? Sam’s putting on Gladiator in a few,” Steve added.

For a second, Bucky really considered it. He could sit through one movie with her, after all, without falling apart at the seams. He was a freaking super soldier Alpha. He’d survived Hydra.

Then he remembered the bundle of blanket and gloves he’d left sitting on the couch a few hours ago in anticipation of their movie night and decided against it. If she put two and two together in front of the pack, Bucky didn’t think he could explain his way out of that one.

“Maybe later,” Bucky said, lifting his book up in a half-hearted attempt to look occupied. Steve could see right through him, he knew, but the other Alpha just gave him a smile and a reassuring shoulder squeeze, before slipping out of the door.

It was better this way, Bucky thought. Better for everyone if he rode this out on his own.

His Omega was okay. That’s what mattered.

[ichika27]

TWEWY 12

Grande Finale already!

I felt the same nervousness and excitement I felt when I watched the first episode while watching the last one. I’m excited, half knowing what I’d see but not knowing what else to expect.

Can’t believe we finally got to this point. I took so many screenshots... I had to limit myself cause they’re not all gonna fit in one tumblr post.

Also I don’t have to give a spoiler warning anymore. Length warning though cause this is super long!(longer than the usual posts I made for this series at least).

Kitaniji transforms into a three-headed monster and unlike in the game, he doesn’t capture any of Neku’s partners nor use Josh’s power to do so. I’m not sure what explanation there is as to how he got more than one noise form but I guess he’s the Conductor so maybe it’s part of his powers here.

Shiki and Beat awaken in the middle of Neku’s fight and help out. The trio then forms some kind of three-way pact (four if Rhyme actually counted although now completely sure?) and continue battling Kitaniji. The fight scene was pretty cool especially Beat’s attack with the chains. It just sucks the fight ended too fast. I guess all of TWEWY anime’s boss fights end kinda fast even though they’re uh, boss fights.

Final attack beam like in the game! It was too fast and I couldn’t get a good shot of the white version this transforms into (which looks like the one in the game). They have an explanation later as to why it looks different at first but they’ll talk about it later.

It’s sad Joshua isn’t part of this. This is supposed to be the four-way fusion attack. (;-;)

They defeat Kitaniji who disappears, sad that he was unable to protect Shibuya. Joshua never showed up in this boss battle so Kitaniji never got to talk to Joshua for the last time. In the game he at least dies happy in a way - he lost but he gave it his all and his Composer praised his efforts. He was also able to tell Neku that the rest is up to him now. Here in the anime, he just... he lost and felt bad. I wish they had Josh show up here but they had other ideas.

A new door opens and Neku braced himself as he knows the fight isn’t over cause there’s still one last guy on top.

They find themselves in this room/hallway (is this supposed to be the Trail of the Judged?) filled with CAT murals. This somewhat confirms the “CAT = Composer” theory and Neku has now accepted it, calling out Mr. Hanekoma to show himself.

And yeah, the last episode’s title is the show’s title as well “It’s a Wonderful World”.

Someone else showed up instead. Joshua finally makes his reappearance!

Boy, have I been waiting for you! I wish you were with them in the final battle earlier so you guys could be a team (and you could be one of Neku’s partners) one last time.

Neku is surprised but happy to see Joshua again. He thanks Joshua for saving him before and is glad that he’s okay.

In the game, this never happened cause Josh appears in the middle of a fight. Things were too hectic and when the battle with Kitaniji finally ended, he and Josh talked about their own game and so after Kitaniji disappears, what’s left is questioning what was happening. Since Josh didn’t show up earlier, they were able to reunite in a more peaceful way and Neku had no suspicion until Joshua himself brought it up.

And I guess that’s why I was so nervous when I watched this. It’s a bit too peaceful. I know what’s gonna happen next but not exactly how they’d adapt it.

Joshua finally explains the truth to Neku and his friends.

This felt more... awful to watch. Like we had both Joshua and Kitaniji giving bits and pieces of the truth in the game via their conversation so there’s two people to focus on. Here it’s just Joshua. But in a way, I guess this works cause there’s no one else there to soften the blow and Joshua could make the revelation hurt more if he wishes so. It also kinda feels worse cause you see Neku happy to see Joshua earlier before the reveal happens. Kinda heartbreaking.

“I’m the Composer of Shibuya.”

He finally says it clearly to a confused and surprised Neku.

We get a flashback of Joshua and Kitaniji talking about Shibuya’s impending destruction, why it must happen, and Kitaniji making a deal to try and save it. He has a month to change things for the better and if it works out, he wins. If not, Joshua continues the destruction plan.

Joshua’s Composer form is more vague here. It’s human shaped but you don’t see his face and the outline glows like this so you don’t properly see the shape. I think this is better cause there’s no way you can tell who the Composer is like this and he looks less human.

Beat gets angry at the revelation and tries to attack Joshua which he couldn’t do because of Joshua’s powers. I wasn’t able to get a screenshot of this but Josh is twirling his hair after this while Beat struggles to try and punch him. He’s cute and I know this is kind of inappropriate to say in this situation given he legitimately made someone mad and he deserves that punch to his pretty face.

Joshua uses his powers to freeze the others (and later renders them unconscious to keep them quiet). Neku is worried about his friends and is mad.

Joshua tells him he won’t hurt Neku’s friends. He then explains about how he found his proxy. Which is Neku much to his horror at what this meant.

I just had to get this with the subtitles on. I replayed the scene several times to hear if there was no error. Joshua says “Daiji na Neku-kun no tomodachi...” and I google translated it. It says “daiji” means “important”. So yeah, he definitely called Neku “important” to him. It’s surprising although this wouldn’t be out of place in the original game since they had more moments to just talk on there.

Yeah, I know I focused on this a little but I’m a nekujosh/joshneku shipper so forgive me for latching onto this.

Neku slowly sees the bigger picture as Joshua continues to explain himself. As a reward for getting this far, Joshua returns Neku’s memories.

He really had to get that close while saying Neku’s name, didn’t he?

Neku’s death flashback. The scene plays almost similar to the game right down to the censored guns (is this a creative decision to make it faithful to the game or are they really just not allowed to draw actual guns?). I was gonna make a joke about how Joshua stopped Minamimoto’s bullets using an AT field but the shot was different and the bullets just looked like they froze midair and not stopped by some kinda force field like in the game.

Neku ends up getting shot by Joshua complete with bleeding unlike in the game. I just have to wonder if I was the one who got it wrong cause in the game, Joshua looks like he’s aiming for Neku’s head and here, Neku gets shot on the chest. Did they change it cause a headshot would be too much or has it always been a shot to the chest?

Neku angrily walks over to Josh and grabs him by the collar. Joshua stops Neku with his powers as he continues to explain about what happened regarding the death scene and Minamimoto. Joshua then materializes two guns out of thin air and places one on Neku’s hand as he tells him the rules of their final duel: just shoot and if Neku wins, he could save his friends and he becomes Composer and do what he wants. What stood out with how he said it is that he didn’t exactly go “If you don’t beat me, Shibuya is destroyed.” and instead went “If you win, these are what you get to be Composer and whatever else you’d like! Sounds good, right?”. As if saying killing him has a lot of perks.

It feels weird seeing Josh physically placing the gun on Neku’s hand cause in the game, the gun was by Neku’s feet and Neku had to pick it up on his own accord. Anyways, I like the effect they used to materialize the gun cause it’s the same effect for the names of the routes when they show them on screen. Like graffiti or something.

At this point Neku’s crying. The shot didn’t feel as dramatic as in the game in my personal opinion. Neku is tearing up here but he looks tired and was about to sob in the game. Joshua meanwhile, counts down from ten.

Before Joshua’s count hits three, Neku hears a somewhat distorted voice (which we know is just Mr. H) saying “Trust your Partner”. This reminded Neku how he got to where he is: by trusting his partners. (I have something to say about this later)

In a very shocking turn of events, instead of just lowering the gun and letting himself be shot like in the game, Neku drops his gun and with a hand outstretched tells Joshua “I’ll trust you”. Oh my god... they really did it. I love this change not gonna lie. I think they might have added this cause they didn’t adapt Neku’s ending monologue where he does say he trusts Joshua. It’s less dramatic than the game though since Neku doesn’t say anything while Joshua is counting down. In the game, he was crying and saying how he thought Joshua was his friend and how all of this really hurt him. Guess we take what we can get and they gave us this.

Joshua smiles as he shoots but as Neku falls, the smile on Joshua’s face disappears.

Mr. H didn’t show up at the end here either so Neku didn’t get to see him.

Neku wakes up in the middle of Scramble Crossing like usual but he bumps into people and so he realizes that he’s alive now. He doesn’t scream after the very stressful crap he went to like in the game. Might not be entirely the same but Joshua still left him lying down in the middle of the street. Nice.

We then see a short timelapse from above Shibuya which is probably supposed to show a week has passed. Neku’s monologue wasn’t added in and no ending music as well. I’m disappointed “A Lullaby for You” wasn’t used. Here I was hoping for a miracle.

By the way, Shooter, Yammer, and I think Makoto all passed him by the scramble. They really didn’t get much screentime but at least they made cameos.

Neku finally meets up with the Bito siblings like at the game’s epilogue! The shot they did was almost the same as with the game, too. They have dialogue here instead of just stills with Neku showing how happy he was to see his friends alive again, too. I’m happy the anime version showed him smiling more at the end cause he needed that after everything. It’s nice to see him smile.

RG! Shiki is here! With the same shot as in the game! They really aren’t gonna show us her face, huh? Also, all of the shots with Shiki on them has her back towards us. Like there are scenes where Neku and the rest are looking forward and she’s in front of them with her back turned on us. Why? They could’ve used the lighting on her glasses to obscure her eyes, too. So her bangs are a secret as well then?

They show Eri later, too enjoying a concert, by the way. I was hoping to see a reunion between her and Shiki as well and them finally talking after the stuff from before. Oh well.

Neku takes off his headphones and he and Shiki do a proper introduction with each other with Shiki being herself this time. (Is Shiki the same height as Neku? It looks like that from this angle.)

Anyways, this was a nice way to adapt Neku taking off his headphones since they can’t do it like in the game.

They adapted the secret ending but expanded it to add stuff from the secret reports to explain other lore stuff which would’ve been missed by the anime-only watchers since those are part of bonus game contents. Mr. Hanekoma and Joshua talk about the events of the long game and Joshua says he knew it was Mr. H whose responsible for Minamimoto.

They also talk about the Red Skull Pins and how Mr. H made it for Kitaniji. Mr. H says the pins imprints Kitaniji’s will on people and that he himself (Mr. H) doesn’t need that cause he could do so with all the graffiti he left all over town.

Which brings me to earlier in the duel: Neku hears a voice, clearly (to us) is Mr. Hanekoma’s and it’s in a place filled to the brim with CAT graffiti. Did he imprint the words “Trust your partner” to Neku?

Meanwhile, Beat wonders how they were able to pull off the final attack. Neku says it was probably the pin Hanekoma gave them (the keypin looking thing). I guess they needed an explanation for the last attack but they didn’t have the fusion pin so they used this keypin instead. It’s why the attack looked different in the beginning when the attack was powering up.

There’s apparently a new CAT graffiti at Udagawa and of course, CAT-fanboy Neku has to see it. On the way, they meet Sota and Nao who are now alive! I’m so happy!! Joshua brought them back, too! I always felt bad about what happened to them in the game. I’m glad they got a happy ending in the anime.

Def March, 777′s band, are back as well and look... they got their winged mic back! It makes me wonder if they found it later on or if Joshua gave that to them back the same time when he brought them back lol. I’m just really happy for all of them.

Joshua’s wings!! This is, unfortunately, the best shot I could get since they never really zoom in on this. In the game he is in his Composer form in the secret ending and turns into a ball of light when he leaves. Here, we see his wings. It’s smaller than the one he has in KH:DDD. At least we canonically see it here.

I can now use the term “Joshua Maji Tenshi” and be accurate!

Mr. H points out that Joshua looks lonely and is in denial and Josh just leaves. Mr. H also shows his wings and leaves afterwards, too. I didn’t take a pic of it since we see it in the game’s secret ending anyways. His wings also seem smaller than in the game.

Final shot of the new CAT graffiti. I was so close to crying the entire ending and this nearly tipped me over but it didn’t. If “A Lullaby for You” was playing, I’d have probably bawled my eyes out. This graffiti is beautiful. I want a sticker of it.

Also, I just noticed but CAT’s old graffiti at Udagawa had mostly darker colors. This new one is brighter and is more colorful.

--

First of all, I wanted to thank tumblr for not giving me an error for posting more than 15 images like I usually did. I was bracing myself for the error pop up and was gonna make a part 2 instead but there was some kind of miracle and I got more than 20 pictures on here.

I have a lot of melodramatic things to say about the anime but I’ll save it all for later. For now, I’ll say something else. I’m sad they didn’t adapt Neku’s monologue. Those words from Neku still hits me in the feels to this day. Him saying that the entire ordeal really affected him in more ways than one and it wasn’t all good even though he’s happy about changing and what he learned from the experience. His line about how he can’t forgive Joshua but trusts him was cut along with it and it would’ve been nice to have to know what he thought of Joshua.

The thing I missed the most was the “I have friends now. We’re meeting each other for the first time in a week. See you there?” lines. It shows how happy Neku is that he now has people to call his friends which is super heartwarming and the line implies that he counts Joshua as one of those friends, too (which is properly confirmed in KH: DDD which I’d probably make a post about later if I get the motivation to do so). That would’ve also made the last scene with Josh hit harder. In the game, knowing Josh wanted to be with them and is sad he couldn’t already makes me sad but also knowing Neku is waiting for him makes it much worse (and I still feel pain thinking about it even after all these years).

Maybe we’d see them get reunited in NTWEWY. Hopefully. I really do hope so.

The anime isn’t perfect but it did what it could with the limited amount of time it had. The show would’ve been better if they had more episodes but we don’t know why it ended up with just 12 so we can’t really say anything else. They did it and it wasn’t as bad as I was fearing in a way. Would I recommend it? I’d probably rec the game first, to be honest. I was only okay with watching cause I have played the game and could fill in the missing stuff but the anime-only fans couldn’t and the thought that they won’t be able to fully appreciate the entire story of twewy is kinda sad. It was a nice watch though and I’d miss waiting for it every week.

I wonder if they’d make “A New Day” OVA since the anime is supposed to help the ones who haven’t/couldn’t play the first game but would go play NTWEWY and that scenario has story stuff that’s connected to the sequel.

Anyways, thanks for reading this far if you did! I’ll be watching gameplays of NTWEWY when it comes out in full (since I don’t have the money nor the console for it). 

[unsaidmar]

WC: 2.5k (long winded girl, I know)

Plot: They share stuff and it changes how they see things. Connection ensues. 

CW: Mentions of death, illness, hospitals I guess, violence.

a/n: Hello y’all. This is part two of whatever the fuck is going on inside my pea brain. Hope you enjoy.

Part one, the meeting. 

Two; It’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.

She laughed at the awkwardness of the text and the perfect grammar Dr. Spencer Reid maintained while texting. Ollie made a mental note to care a little more about the phrasing of her own texts, especially considering the circumstances. To say she wanted to impress him was an understatement.

“Good, germs are yucky.” Sent at 7:45 am.

“Also, hi. Good morning” Sent at 7:45 am.

Good morning? Too much too soon? She fell victim to her overthinking for at least twenty minutes after sending her last text, realizing she had to slowly build up the courage to ask about the next time they would be seeing each other, which apparently would have to wait, since Spencer had an inconvenient schedule and could be out of the state in a matter of 20 minutes.  Ollie exhaled and stood up from her awful office chair to go and make herself some coffee, hoping to stop her mind from reeling and sending her into her usual never-ending pit of despair and anxiety that came with stepping out of her comfort zone.

A ping echoed in the room and her screen lit up, displaying a text from the one person she had been thinking about. Ollies mother would be crying laughing if she saw the state she was in, positively losing hair over the fact that a cute, smart, witty man was texting her back. A man she had spoken to for the first time not even 24 hours prior.

“I’m a nice person, I’m funny sometimes, I offered him coffee.” She whispered to herself, rationalizing every aspect of their interaction. “That’s how friendships start” She laughed bitterly. “I’m here… freaking… wishful thinking, and maybe he has a significant other… maybe he doesn’t even like women… maybe he just thought I was nice and he thought ‘yay, a new friend’… fuck” she plopped herself back on the chair and threw her head back.

Lia would have known what the right thing to do is, she would come up with a cool thing to text back on the spot, and she resented her absence like she had a million times before. Ollie had gotten used to writing her letters like her best friend was living somewhere else in the world and she would eventually read her friend’s attempt at keeping her updated, which she knew was not healthy and definitely not helping her move on.

The thing is, Lia’s death was not a surprise at all. It was a possibility to the point of actually being expected. She had been diagnosed as a terminal patient for a little over a year before she passed and almost everyone around her had made peace with the fact that she could go any day and that life would have to go on without her, but no amount of grief counseling and encouraging talks with Lia’s family could have prepared her for the unimaginable pain Ollie felt when it happened. She had heard about experiences that made the world turn upside down and how some life events made you go numb and make your legs give weight, but had never come face to face with a happenstance that painful.

She figured she was going to have to carry the burden of her loss till the day she died, and even then, the words “I missed you, till the very end.” would be carved in her grave.

Coming back from her spiral, she remembered how she fell down the rabbit hole in the first place. She took her phone with the intention of texting Spencer back and smiled at how stupid she had been to worry about seeing him again.

“Hey, arrest made successfully. Are you busy right now?” Sent at 7:57 am.

Sighing with relief, Ollie smiled and tried to sound casual with her reply as to not sound like seeing him again was the only thing she had been thinking about.

“I’m the boss, I can un-busy myself. Why? Were you charmed by my Keurig?” Sent at 8:00 am.

Spencer was not the kind to send sassy texts, or any text for that matter. This was completely new to him and he was determined to get it right, so he channeled the Derek Morgan that lived within him and prayed to whatever deity was looking out for him to make him sound cooler than he was feeling.

“I’m a sucker for coffee so, yes.” Sent at 8:05

 “I’m a sucker for you, apparently” Ollie nearly screamed at how quickly that came out of her mouth. “Fucking loser, dear God” She shook her head, scolding herself and whatever hamster was in charge of her brain and thought process.

“Mi oficina es tu oficina, then. I’ll be waiting.” Sent at 8:07

Twenty minutes later, he was there, coffee cup in his hands. After what felt like no time at all, they were four coffee cups deep into their conversation and had learned a lot more about each other. Turns out Spencer had a day off after they landed from an away case, he had a thing with germs, his favorite color was purple and his co-workers were more his family than just the people he happened to work with. He liked a bunch of sugar with his coffee and had an eidetic memory that was as much of a blessing as it was a curse.

He was impressed at how this girl was not what you would expect her to be, every aspect of her seemed to make no sense and at the same time, it made perfect sense. This purple haired girl had ADHD and a PhD in history, she was the oldest daughter of two of the most stubborn Mexican immigrants and had a sister that made even the most patient of humans go mad. She loved music, and was not ashamed to admit that her taste in music was far from sophisticated. “I am Taylor Swift’s bitch; I know the words to every single one of her songs! Same goes for One Direction too” She argued when Spencer said that it couldn’t be that bad.

A blaring ring halted their conversation to an unexpected stop. Ollie picked up the office phone with an annoyed grimace and exchanged a few words with whoever was calling.

“Hold that thought, I have to go sign a thingy at the front desk” She dashed out of her office and left Spencer there.

For the first time, he felt compelled to look around and fixate on the details. There were a few old looking pictures and some newer ones with people who looked a lot like her. There was one picture that caught his attention, isolated from the rest like it deserved a spot of its own. In it, there was a red-haired girl that looked around Ollie’s age, one of her arms around her waist and the other one cradling her head that was laying on her shoulder. Ollie’s eyes were closed and the red head looked like she was caught mid-sentence. Stuck to the frame was a little post it note that read “I love you, head ass. -Lia” It looked intimate, they were clearly comfortable with that kind of physical affection, and if Lia hadn’t called Ollie a head ass in the post it, he would have assumed they were together romantically.

Ollie came back in a hurry, apologizing for having to run out like that and sitting back down to resume their conversation.

“It’s okay, don’t worry” Spencer assured her. “I was looking at your pictures, I hope you don’t mind” He said, suddenly very aware of how invasive that could be.

“Not at all, those are there to be looked at” She shrugged, bracing herself for the question she knew was coming. Somehow, talking about Lia with him did not feel as dreadful as it had all those times she was asked about it before, perhaps it’s just him and his calming presence.

Sure enough, he pointed at the picture Lia had framed for valentine’s day and asked, “Who’s that?”.

“That’s Lia, she was my best friend. She is my best friend.” She smiled fondly, something that had never happened before when talking about this specific topic. Maybe sharing Lia’s memory with someone who didn’t know her was different. “She passed away almost a year and a half ago. 468 days ago, to be exact. She was really sick, it was inevitable” Ollie let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, reaching for the post it and tracing the words over with her finger.

“I’m so sorry, I can’t imagine how hard that must have been”

“It was… heartbreaking. Even with all that time we had to process the news, it still took me off guard.” She shook her head trying to ground herself. “Anyways, that’s a sad topic. I don’t want to bum you out with it.”

He knew the feeling all too well, he had apologized to several people when he rambled about Maeve, feeling like he had said too much and gotten too personal. He was not about to let this beautiful, vibrant soul feel the way he had for so long. Like he still did, truly.

“Don’t apologize, I get it. You’re not making me sad” He felt like he needed to elaborate to actually convey the message. “I went through the same thing with someone I loved too” he said, looking down at his hands, the very familiar feeling of oversharing creeping in. As he looked up, he noticed the sad look Ollie was giving him, but if the profiler in him was right, she was inviting him to share, not to stop.

“Her name was Maeve. She… she was a geneticist. She helped me through a rough time and she became my friend. It’s a long story…” he looked away.

“I want to hear it, long or not. But only if you want me to.” She gave him the warmest smile she could muster, which convinced him to keep going.

“Um, I started getting some headaches a while ago. I went to a few doctors but none of them gave me an answer. I reached out to Maeve for help and… We bonded, I guess.” He took a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to continue if you feel uncomfortable” she whispered in the most delicate tone.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never told this story before. Everyone in my life that I care about was there to see it.” He said, meeting her eyes so she could see how honest he was being. The man got a hold of himself for a minute, and continued.

“Maeve had to go into hiding. She was being stalked by some woman she met at work. Beyond talking on the phone, we hadn’t even met. I had no idea what she looked like and vice versa. This girl, the stalker… She wrote a paper, and Maeve dismissed it because it didn’t have a good enough foundation. When she started stalking her, she scared her into hiding and eventually started dating her ex-fiancé to try and get closer to Maeve, assuming he knew where she was. They ended up finding her and confronting her. She shot herself and the first person I ever loved. Right in front of me and my friends. The first five minutes I got with Maeve face to face, were the last.”

Baring his soul to a person he had known for a whooping 18 hours was the weirdest thing Spencer had ever done, so unlike himself it was almost funny. But at the same time, he felt like it had to happen. By no means did he believe in fate or destiny, but this one moment made him feel like maybe whoever does believe in that stuff, is not completely wrong.

She was not a therapist. She listened because she was going through a similar thing herself and her interest in Spencer’s loss was not rooted in psychoanalyzing him and helping him cope. She was just a mundane human that did not look at him with condescension and pity, she looked at him like she, too, had found a person who wouldn’t ask her “And, how does that make you feel?” in a monotonous voice. They both knew better than to assume they had all the answers.

“Spencer, that’s horrible. I am so sorry you had to see that. Jesus, fuck. I- “She thought about her next words very carefully. “That’s enough to crush anyone’s spirit” She looked at him like he was turning green. The reason being, he did not look like he was crushed. He had a beautiful smile that shook Ollie to her core, he was easygoing and conversation with him was carefree and it flowed easily. If he had not told her about Maeve, she would not have guessed the man sitting right in front of her was as affected as her.

“How did you manage to get through that?” Ollie questioned, fully intending to take notes.

“I don’t really think I have yet…” Well, time to come clean. Spencer thought. “The whole reason I was here yesterday, and a lot more times before that one, is because she and I talked about this museum. She told me about some conferences she had attended here and we made plans to visit together. Doesn’t quite sound like someone who’s over the whole thing.” He fiddled with his fingers, suddenly too aware of how cold it was. “How did you get through Lia’s death?”

“Yeah, well. I don’t really think I’m quite there either. Not like I’m trying, anyways. I can’t seem to get away from the Grey Roots either” Mental images of two little kids running around with dusty books in their hands came to her and she couldn’t help the small smile she broke into.

“I’m a hopeless romantic at heart, I have always thought that the way Lia and I found each other was pure magic. We met when we were in the second grade, right in this museum, we were on a field trip and we clicked. It was crazy to me that I actually met my best friend at such a young age, and the kind that lasts forever too. It sounds like when people meet the love of their lives on their first try. It sounds dorky, I know”

“It doesn’t. If anything, it sounds like you consider yourself lucky to have loved her like you did. We need more people like that, people that believe in magic.” Spencer reassured her with a shrug. He wished he could believe in cute stuff like that, but he was happy Ollie led a life that made her believe.

“Yeah, but us crazy people, we get our hopes up too easily. Sometimes it hurts.”

“Tell me about it.”

And just like that, in the not so well-lit office of the head Conservator of the Grey Roots Museum and Archive, something in the world had shifted.

[meigh-day]

Obligation (Tendou x Reader) - Part 13

———————————————————–

Title: Obligation

Pairing: Mafia AU Tendou x F!Reader

Characters: Includes characters from both Shiratorizawa and Seijoh/Some OC background characters

Includes: Swearing, Guns, Knives, Violence, Blood, Torture

Status: Complete

Word Count: 1.6k

Previous Next

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So far Tendou had only seen the pictures but as he scrolled through a video loaded. It started off with a shaky angle but slowly your form came into view. You were still propped up in the corner of what he assumed to be a van, eyes closed and head bowed. A figure moved across the screen and then knelt before you, his back was to the screen, short blonde hair the only distinguishing characteristic that could be made out at the moment.

"C'mon doll, why don't you wake up and have some fun." He cooed out in an attempt to coax you awake before reaching a hand out. He pressed three fingers and a thumb roughly into your cheeks and pulled up so your face was now facing towards the camera. Your lips parted from the pressure on each side of your face, so he decided to take the opportunity to stick his index finger inside your mouth. He wiggled it around, dragging the pad of his finger across your tongue, a visible shiver ran through him.

"Dude, don't be a fucking pervert..." The camera holder spoke, obviously uncomfortable with the turn this had taken. The blonde man turned his face slightly, giving the other a side eyed glare before pulling his finger out and wiping the saliva he had gathered across your cheek and chin. With a sigh the man released your face and stood, the video cut as your head started to fall to the side once again.

The next few pictures showed you in a new setting, this time on the bare floor of a room. The way you were crumpled up on the ground almost made it seem like someone had just dropped you in a pile on the floor and walked away. Finally, Tendou was facing the last two videos, he wanted to stop watching, it was equal parts heartbreaking and enraging to see the state you were in. Yet, he had to see, he needed to know what happened next, he needed to see what they had done to you. Tendou was absolutely frothing with rage after seeing that disgusting goon stick his vile finger in your mouth.

The next video is short, only about 15 seconds. You are seated in a chair, your arms and legs bound to the chairs arms and legs. Your torso was held fast to the back of the chair by more restraints. At first your face is angled down and away but at the sound of your name, you stir. Your head was throbbing and your body ached, someone was calling out to you but the lights just seemed so bright so for several seconds you just glance around in confusion, blinking rapidly as you try to shield your eyes. You want to cover your eyes with your hands but you can't seem to make them move. It takes a few more seconds for you to realize you can't move, your eyes widen as you realize why. As the room comes into focus, the realization hitting you, you look up in the direction of the phone. The last thing Tendou sees before the video cuts is you, wide eyed as tears slip down your cheeks.

For several seconds all he can do is stare at the screen, the final frame of your frightened face frozen on his screen. This was all his fault. Despite not know for certain why you had left, there was no doubt it was connected to the way he had treated you over the last few days. As a result you were now in danger, you'd already taken at least one hit according to the bruises on the side of your face and then that thug had put his hands on you. There was one final video left, all he could hope for was that you were in one piece and alive at the end.

This video is longer but you are now awake, a neutral expression on your features, a similar expression to the one you had given Tendou the day before.

"Why don't you say hello to your fiancé, little cutie?"

You lift your gaze to the side, looking to the person who was speaking just out of frame. "Look I don't know who you think I am but I don't mean anything to him or anyone else." It hurt to say the words out loud. Words that others might have cried out in desperation, hoping the lie would be believed. However, you knew those words to be true and what you were about to say would have had you in tears if not for the perilous situation you currently found yourself in. "I'm just....some girl he got saddled with." You hoped using the cruel words Tendou had said, the very words that had broken your heart, would prove to these thugs you were speaking the truth but as a grin spread on the mans lips, you knew it had been futile to even try.

"Now now, no need to be so modest Y/N..."

This guy was really irritating, an odd thought to have while being captured for sure but it was true. This whole situation was terrifying but also just really annoying. How had they even known where to find you? Had they just been lurking around town on the off chance you went for a midnight stroll? You sigh, shaking your head as you glance away. "You do realize it's an arranged marriage, right?"

"And?"

You look back over at him, narrowing your eyes a bit as if you were confused. "Are you stupid or something?" The words just came out and before you had time to regret what you had said the man was suddenly in front of you.

"Stupid?" His voice was low, an edge of anger in that one word. His back was to the camera but it was easy to tell that he was a tall and well built, his short cropped hair initially seemed light brown but as he moved it almost looked pink at times. He glowered down at you. "You should learn to watch your mouth little girl." Before you had time to brace yourself he had already completed the swing. Pain flooded your senses as your mind worked to sort out what had happened. Really all he had done was slap you across the face but the force he had used had your vision spotted with white. Blood appeared a moment later on your lips a small bit trickling down your chin as you tried to focus again.

"Now, why don't we try this again." His hand grabbed onto your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he leaned down. "Beg like the bitch you are for that psychopath to come save you."

You grimace as he holds your head still, your face still burning with pain. As you slowly began to center your gaze on him, a smirk pulled at your red stained lips. "Drop dead asshole." His fingers dug into your cheek causing you to wince in his grasp. It felt like he was going to crush your jaw in his hand but after a moment he let go and took a few steps back. "This obviously isn't working. Shido, give it a shot." He turned and disappeared off camera. For a moment you were sat alone on the screen, head still throbbing as tears, you hadn't realized you'd shed, dried on your cheeks. Footsteps could be heard approaching and soon you were join by another man. He was shorter and slimmer than the previous guy, with black wavy hair that hung in his eyes. As he approached you, a sadistic grin stretched across his lips, it was hidden from the camera but your eyes widened slightly upon seeing it. He knelt to the side of your chair and all you could do was watch as he pulled the bandage off your finger. He slide the pad of his finger across the still healing skin, his touch was gentle at first but soon his thumb was being driven down causing you to yelp out.

"What the fuck...get off me!" You hissed out, trying and failing to pull your hand out of his grip. The restraints held your arm fast to the chair, severely limiting your movement. The man looked up at you with such perverse pleasure at your reaction it had you wishing you'd been able to remain silent.

"So pretty...." He whispered, returning his gaze to the wound on your finger. He pressed down into again, an involuntary hiss leaving your lips. As if what he'd been doing wasn't bad enough, he decided to amp it up. He placed one finger on either side of the injury and pulled viciously in opposite directions. His grip was crushing and no matter how you wriggled your hand you couldn't get free of his grip.

"Sto-AHH!!" As the skin finally gave away, blood welled and quickly began to weep, gathering in your palm. You threw your head back, eyes closed shut as you let out a short, frantic, shriek of agony.

"Enough." The man from before commanded from off camera, the man at your side frowned but let go of your hand and retreated out of frame. Tears spilled across your cheeks as you trembled in silence, sparing a brief glance up at the camera before looking away. You looked almost ashamed, embarrassed for letting them get to you. You hated that they had made you scream, you felt weak and humiliated for sitting here crying. The screen went black signaling that the video had come to an end.

Tendou was shaking, darkened red eyes shifting upwards. Yamagata had seen this look before, whatever had been on that phone must not have been good, he'd only been able to hear a few snippets but it sounded bad.

"Boss..."

"Round up the team. I'm gonna talk to Jin and Reon. We either take care of Seijoh now or I do it myself."

[ila9182]

I know I’m being really really slow at writing the prompts you all sent me but I’m going through a tough time lately and it’s really difficult for me to write. I’m trying my best and I will slowly write all the requests I’ve received, please bear with me.

This prompt was requested by @profoundturkeyoperatormoney thank you for sending your asks to me and I apologize for the delay. The prompt takes place somewhere between the end of season 4 and the beginning of season 5 of Major Crimes. This story was inspired by the song “Happy and Sad” from Kacey Musgraves. I hope you will enjoy this little story!

As always, mistakes are all mine. 

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

4. Kissing on sofa, foreheads pressed together, breathy, soft tender. + 72. Brushing hair from their face. + 73. Leaning into the others hand, turning their head and pressing a kiss to the palm.

Happy and Sad

Andy’s hand stroked her hair in a soothing and gentle way. Sharon closed her eyes as she relished the tender gesture and snuggled deeper against his side. A smile graced her features when she felt Andy tighten his embrace on her, his fingers caressing her waist delicately before they went back to her hair.

They had been watching a movie for the last hour but Sharon hadn’t been paying attention to it for a couple of minutes now. Her mind was miles away. She was lost in her thoughts, staring blankly at some invisible point on the couch. She just wished she could turn off her thoughts as they always seemed to be nagging her every time she was feeling happy and relaxed.

Sharon felt Andy’s shoulders shake lightly as a soft laugh escaped his lips. She tilted her head and looked up to find him smiling widely, his eyes glued on the screen. There was something about his smile that made her heart flutter: it was so pure, so careless. In that smile she could get a glimpse of the child Andy must have been and as she studied his face, Sharon realized how lucky she was to see this side of Andy, a softer and vulnerable side he showed to very few people.

Andy chuckled again. He was so engrossed in the movie he didn’t even notice her staring at him. The scene was so endearing Sharon couldn’t help but smile as well and a sappy line Andy had told her several times came to her mind.

They told me that to make her fall in love I had to make her laugh. But every time she laughs I’m the one who falls in love.

Sharon couldn’t believe that such a sappy line could make her feel a tug at her heart and bring a sweet smile to her face. She was normally immune to this kind of stuff and she would react with an eye roll to any man saying something like that but when it came from Andy it was different. It was cheesy, yes, but he always managed to make her feel special and loved. Tonight, she couldn’t help but think that she was the one falling in love all over again and his smile was all it took to make her to feel that way.

Sharon resumed her position and Andy’s hand moved to her side, stroking it. He held her tight while she tried to focus her attention back on the movie but her mind had decided differently. Sharon sighed, louder than she intended and felt Andy’s hand stop. If she had any doubts he had heard her, he swept them all away when he turned off the television. Andy shifted lightly to take a better look at Sharon, his right arm still around her. His other hand moved a strand of hair away from her face and put it back behind her ear when he whispered to her, “What’s wrong, Sharon?”

Sharon shook her head and forced a smile but she realized it wasn’t a convincing one. “Nothing. I’m fine.” She answered too quickly and she was aware it was going to sound suspicious to Andy.

Andy shifted again, turning to face her, leaning against the couch with one shoulder. He was silently staring at her and Sharon could read concern in his eyes. He squeezed her knee gently and whispered in an incredibly soft tone, “You don’t look fine to me, Shar’…”

Sharon sighed and rested her head against the couch, her eyes never leaving Andy’s. She reached for his hand and slowly intertwined her fingers with his before she told him truthfully, “I’m happy.”

“And I’m confused, babe…” Andy replied, arching an eyebrow. “You don’t look happy…” He added, tilting his head as he studied her face carefully.

“It’s silly…” Sharon whispered, uneasiness in her voice as she looked down at their intertwined fingers.

Andy watched Sharon as she kept her eyes down and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. He could tell she was debating with herself whether she should keep talking or drop the subject. He had noticed the little frown on her face and he knew this one only showed up when there was something worrying her. Andy reached for her cheek delicately, caressing it before his hand moved down to her chin. Slowly, he lifted it with a finger and whispered to her, a soft reassuring smile on his face, “Talk to me, Sharon…”

Sharon met his eyes hesitantly and was a little taken aback by the amount of love she read in them. Their relationship still felt new to her. Despite everything they had been through already – Andy’s health scare and the fear of losing him – Sharon still had to get used to having someone care about her. There was genuine concern in Andy’s eyes but still he wasn’t pressuring her – something she loved about him – and was patiently waiting for her to tell him what was bothering her.

“Really… it’s silly…” Sharon mumbled, looking down, her voice above a whisper.

Andy shook his head and told her, “It’s not silly if it got you so worked up. I’m here, I’m listening…” He added with a small smile even if he was aware that Sharon wasn’t looking at him.

Sharon looked up slowly, meeting his gaze, and Andy offered her an encouraging smile. She smiled back slightly and looked again at their intertwined fingers before she asked, “Have you ever felt happy and sad at the same time?” Andy frowned and stared at Sharon as she kept stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. What was she trying to tell him? A wave of worry flashed through his mind at the thought that maybe he wasn’t doing enough to make her happy. Maybe he was simply not good enough for her. Andy opened his mouth to reply but he realized Sharon wasn’t really expecting an answer, as she went on, “I mean… Have you ever felt so incredibly good, happy, and comfortable in a situation that you just wish it would never end?”

Andy’s features broke into a warm smile as he reached for Sharon’s face and stroked her cheek. “I feel like this every time I am with you.” He told her truthfully. Sharon looked up at Andy with a surprised face. “I’m feeling like this right now. I just wish I could hold you in my arms like this forever…” He added when their eyes met. “You make me feel so good, Sharon…”Andy whispered as he ran his thumb up and down her cheek, “I love you so much.”

Sharon sighed softly and closed her eyes as she leaned into Andy’s hand. She turned her head and pressed a kiss to his palm. “I love you too, Andy…” Sharon murmured.

Andy smiled brightly and cupped her face with both hands, pulling her in. He caught her lips with his in a tender and lingering kiss. They slowly pulled away, Sharon offering Andy a sweet smile, her hand running through his hair gently. She scooted closer to him and leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. Andy wrapped his arms around her and leaned his back against the couch again, pulling her with him. Sharon snuggled against Andy and his hand went back to her hair, caressing them soothingly.

“Jack broke me more than I’m willing to admit…” Sharon whispered hesitantly after a while, breaking the comfortable silence between them. Andy tensed a little at the mention of her ex-husband and the pain he had put her through but he stayed silent, giving her all the time she needed to open up to him. He held her hand with his free hand. “The thing is… I’m used to heartbreak, Andy…” She murmured against his chest, her thumb caressing the back of his hand. “I was ready to spend the rest of my life alone, to focus on my career and this was it… I never thought I would have a second chance at love and yet, here you are.” She said, a soft smile gracing her features. “You came in and you slowly broke down the high walls I’ve built around my heart, piece by piece. Patiently. Lovingly.” Sharon let go of his hand and caressed Andy’s chest. “I let you in and you make me so happy everyday. I love you so much, Andy…” Sharon paused and took a deep breath as she felt Andy run his hand through her hair soothingly, “But there are moments when I feel particularly happy, when I think I’ve got everything I need… moments like this one… and yet I have this sadness deep down because I know that this moment is going to end… and I just wish it wouldn’t.” She shook her head against him and gestured with her hand as she added, “And I know it’s silly because there are going to be other moments like this one but…” Sharon paused and bit her lower lip. “But sometimes I have this nagging thought that all this is going to end one day and I have to brace myself for the worst.”

“Sharon…” Andy whispered softly, moving a strand of hair away from her face. His heart broke at the thought that deep inside she still feared there would come a day when he would walk away from her. Andy realized that her old wounds were deeper than he thought and that they never truly healed, causing her to spiral from time to time into the world of unworthiness and inadequacy Jack had made her fall into decades ago.

“I’m not even sure I deserve to be happy…” Sharon mumbled, her voice above a whisper.

Andy shook his eyes and sighed. He pulled Sharon away from him slightly, his hands on her shoulders as he told her, “This is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard coming from you.” His tone was soft and gentle; there was no hint of reproach in it. “Sharon, you deserve to be happy. I never want you to think the opposite… You’re the most remarkable woman I know…” Sharon looked down. Andy tilted his head, trying to catch her gaze when he asked her softly, “Are you scared the same thing is going to happen with us?”

Andy didn’t need to add more. Sharon understood immediately what he meant and she snapped her head up as she exclaimed right away, “No, Andy no! It’s not you, Andy.” She said firmly but gently, her hands reaching up to cup his face. “I know you are nothing like Jack…” She sighed softly. “You’re amazing, Andy. You make me happy, you make me feel so loved. I had forgotten what it felt like… I can’t even remember the last time I felt this way…” She paused and shook her head. “Heartbreak is all I’ve ever known, Andy… and I am aware it’s an irrational thought, but sometimes I can’t help but think that some things are too good to be true…”

“I know this may sound sappy but if there is something I’ve fully realized as the nurses wheeled me away for my blood clot surgery is that…” Sharon met his gaze again as she heard him mention this tough moment in their lives. “… I can’t live without you, Sharon.” He let out in a trembling voice, “I was cursing myself back then for not telling you how much I loved you, for putting myself into this situation where I could die and cause you only pain…” Andy paused, allowing Sharon to process his words. He took a deep breath in an effort to control the trembling in his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Sharon.” He reminded her softly, his hand reaching for her cheek, “I know these are only words to you but I’m going to prove it to you everyday.”

Sharon smiled warmly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re already doing it, Andy.” She replied as she leaned in, her forehead resting against his. Andy smiled back and covered her face with soft kisses, first her nose, then her cheeks before he met her lips in a tender kiss. They pulled away slightly and caught their breaths, foreheads pressed together, smiling widely to each other. Sharon leaned in again, pecking his lips in a lingering way before Andy kissed her again softly.

“Are you staying?” Sharon asked him after a while as Andy held her in his arms. She was snuggled against his chest and she looked up at him expectantly.

Andy caressed her face and offered her a bright smile as he replied, “You don’t even need to ask, babe. I’ll stay if that’s what you want.”

“I do.” Sharon smiled back. “I don't want this moment to end just yet.”

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 6

Once more, we delve into the world of Midnight Striga! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Eda roared, leaping toward the man, the monster, who had just casually murdered a child right in front of her!! Whipping her staff down to crush his skull, she was caught dumb when he casually leaned out of the way, a frost clad fist slamming into her face as she fell forward. A gasp of pain burst out as she was sent sprawling. Luckily, Eda had been in plenty of brawls. Gathering her wits, she tucked into a roll, coming up flat on her feet.

“If you think I’ll go easy on you ‘cause you’re human, you’ve got another thing coming!!” She shouted, eyes glancing at Lily, still prone against the wall. What was up with her, this was an emergency!! She growled, shifting herself to spring between Lily and the goons following that monster.

“Go... easy... on me? Pfft HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!” The bastard laughed, actually laughed!, at Eda’s claim, as if the idea that she could beat him was so utterly ridiculous it deserved nothing but ridicule. The fact that his goons echoed him was like rubbing salt in the wound. “That- That was truly amusing!! In exchange for that wonderful jest, allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed, a mocking leer stretched across his face. “I am Rudolph Cranwin, practitioner of the most noble art of Frost Magic, not that I ever really cared about the alleged nobility of it; twas but another tool for me to kill with, nothing more. I look forward to seeing how long I can drag out your demise!!” He said cheerfully, as if her death would be the highlight of his day.

‘To this piece of shit, it might very well be.’ Eda bitterly thought to herself. Her thoughts were cut off by his next words.

“However,” Rudolph mused, “This crowd truly is far too large. Better to thin it out a bit before I let my precious brethren have their fun.” He raised his hand, a cold wind building into a ball in his palm. Eyes widening in shocked comprehension, Eda lunged forward, a massive ball of flames building along Owlbert. She had to get there in time, she needed to! If she didn’t… Rudolph gave her a mocking smile. “Too late, Owl Lady. Winter Spite.” With those two words, the ball exploded in all directions. A huge burst of extreme cold, so deep that it effortlessly extinguished Eda’s building spell, ripped through the stadium. In an instant, the entire place was coated in frost. Just from what she could see on the ground, Eda saw several Demons and Witches in the crowd frozen in place, ice and frost coating their bodies; from the few she could clearly see, at minimum twenty had died, a quarter of which were children. The smallest she could see looked to be about five. As if some signal had gone off, the hoard of Mages lurking behind Rudolph burst forth, screaming in bloody rage, sickening grins coating their faces, spells primed to rip and tear.

“Tree Shot!” “Big Head Blast!” “Sword Beam!” “Wind Cleave!”

Eda braced herself for the attacks; a tree root tore out of the ground, ripping across Eda’s ribs, a spell shaped like a giant head rocketed past her, a beam of light shaped like a blade cut into the stadium, and slashes of winds tore at the bystanders. And more. So many more. They weren’t all incredibly powerful, but they all had something in common; the palpable desire to hurt leaked out of each and every one. Bearing her fangs, Eda whirled around, launching a wave of magic upwards, cutting off as many spells as she could. Her quick timing was used against her, however, when a blast of cold smashed against her back, sending her flying.

“Ah, ah, ah! No interfering with the games, Owl Lady!” Rudolph mockingly chided. She turned her head towards him, eyes burning with hate. He merely grinned. “If the crowd wishes to live, they must defend themselves, or have one of their own act as a champion! You, and your sister I suppose, are my prey.” Rushing into her guard, his palm glowed. “Winter Punt.” A burst of frigid air formed underneath her gut, angled upward, and as it released, Eda choked on her own air as it drove her into the sky.

What was with this guy!? She had decimated Lily earlier, and while she was feeling some of the effects of pushing herself that hard, that quickly, she shouldn’t be this hampered. She sighed, freezing up as she saw her breath, as if she was in the middle of winter. She looked down, and saw her limbs coated in patches of frost, weighing her down, slowing her reactions, and who knows what else. She genuinely didn’t even feel the cold, not really, but her body was acting as if she was naked in a blizzard!!

Rudolph smirked. “I see you’ve noticed.” He chuckled, slowly stalking towards the Witch and her prone sibling. “Yes, a fun little aspect of my magic is that it clings to the body of those it hits, slowing them, filling them with cold, stilling the flow of magic. The longer our fight goes on, the slower, weaker, and more feeble you will become.” He cocked his head, a look of mockingly fake sympathy playing across his features. “Oh, how tragic, to be cut down so short.” He cackled, an uproarious sound that resounded through the arena.

“Bastard.” Eda bit out, trying and failing to flake the frost off her limbs. “If I wasn’t dealing with this, he’d be flatter than paper!!” She glanced back at her sister, still stuck in that pose from where she had dropped, dead to the world, tears pooling at her feet. ‘What’s up with you, Lily? We don’t have time for this! ...Please, whatever’s going on, I’ll help you, but you have to snap out of it!’

Luz growled as she and the others passed by yet another corpse, this one bearing the distinctive signs of Retic’s harvesting; the chest ripped open, organs carefully partitioned and severed from the surrounding tissue, and the corpse tossed aside like a rag doll, whatever body parts he didn’t take flopping uselessly. The others stoically pointed forward, steadfastly ignoring the gore and death surrounding them; they knew that if they stopped, they wouldn’t continue. But with each corpse, each tragedy they passed, the burning rage built up within them.

“So…” Willow drawled, trying to distract them from the horrors surrounding them. “You mentioned you were a member of this group. What was that like?” She instantly felt like kicking herself, but it was the only thing she could think of off the top of her head.

Luz snorted, but decided to answer; it would come out eventually. “I wasn’t a member of the Black Dog Squad specifically, but I often got saddled to them; they provided a big, bloody distraction, I completed the objective, whether it was stealing a priceless relic, assassinating an enemy, or just setting the pieces for something bigger in motion, I got it done. I hated every second of it.” It was truly the most painful chapter of her life, bar nothing.

“If you hated it, why did you join?” Amity stated more than asked. Truthfully, Amity cringed at the accusatory note in her voice; all of this pain was like nothing she had experienced before. The fact that the girl in front of her, that snarky, selfless, free-spirited girl had been in any way connected to a group capable of this? It was jarring. She had to know why.

Luz gave a small chuckle, the kind of empty, hollow ache that only came from someone trying to humor the most tragic and heartbreaking of requests. “I didn’t exactly want to join. Suffice to say, I entered Oroboros’ field of vision when I interfered in a few of their operations, not that I knew it at the time. They ended up deciding to pay me a visit. The reason? Join them, or someone will die.”

Gus cocked his head in perplexedness, deciding to ask what he felt they all were thinking. “Well, you didn’t seem to have a problem sacrificing yourself earlier.” He hoped he didn’t sound accusing, but it really was confusing to him.

Luz snorted, morbidly amused. “I never said I was the one being threatened with death.” She calmly replied, causing the others to pause for a second. Luz continued, nonchalant. “Yeah, whenever Oroboros decides it wants someone in its ranks, but they have a few too many morals, they take a hostage, someone that person cares about dearly.” The others felt a sinking feeling at Luz’s words, as she rambled on. “Whenever the recruit talks back, their hostage gets beaten. Whenever they fail, their hostage has a limb broken. Whenever they succeed, the hostage gets a wonderful meal, after having been deprived of all but the bare minimum of food and water needed to keep them alive during the extent of the mission of course. Every aspect of an Objectionary Recruit’s time with Oroboros, someone like myself, is intertwined with the health and safety of their hostage. If the Recruit dies, so does the hostage.” She finished, walking on.

The others exchanged alarmed glances, before Willow spoke up, voice loaded with uncertainty. “Then… did you leave your hostage behind?” She didn’t think Luz had, none of them did, but the only other alternative…

“HAHA!!” Luz cackled, as if what she asked was funny. “No. No I didn’t. They begged me to leave, to save myself, to do the right thing. But I didn’t! I stayed. I killed, and stole, and ruined countless lives, for the life of someone dear to me. But, ultimately, it was for nothing. A guard, one who would’ve been a perfect fit for the Black Dogs if it weren’t for his lack of magical training, decided he wanted to have some fun. My hostage took exception to that. An hour later, their bodies were found. The guard had been strangled with his own belt… my hostage had a knife slid into her liver.” She turned her head towards the others, an almost beatific look on her face. “It’s hard to threaten someone with a hostage when they’re dead, afterall.” And then, Luz laughed, the broken, empty laugh of someone who didn’t know how to find any other way to make it stop hurting.

And so the group moved onward in silence, the Witchlings carefully ignoring the splotches of tears that followed behind them; they didn’t want to tell Luz she’d been crying ever since she started talking.

Boscha growled, hastily ducking under another clumsy swing from the disgusting pile of fat in front of her. With a roar, she leapt into the air, an axe kick launched for the fat thing’s head, a curved blade of bloody flames trailing in its wake. She yelped when he caught her kick, slamming her into the ground with a painful Crack! Cursing, she bobbed under another lunge, slamming a burning fist into his stomach, something that prompted a horrific squeal from the disgusting beast.

His smile dimmed, Fatso charged Boscha with a roar, his mouth distending into the massive chasm of flesh he used to swallow his foes. Screaming in challenge, Boscha belted out a burst of flames, gushing from her mouth; it was an honestly surreal experience to be literally breathing fire!! Fatso squealed, flailing back from the flames that avoided his colossal mouth. Boscha smirked. ‘So I just have to keep him from eating my attacks, eh?’

“Try and eat this, you fat fuck!” She shouted, unleashing a wave of flames. Even if he ate some of it, the rest would scorch him badly, something Fatso was apparently smart enough to realize. With a shocking level of agility and strength, he hurled himself into the air, beaming in childish delight. Out of the line of fire, he opened his maw, inhaling with all he had; the massive wave of flames was sucked into his gut. Boscha cursed. Why wasn’t this working!? Her flames, her damnable flames, the one thing she could reliably use, were worthless against this creep!! Whispers started creeping in, the sound of screams building in her head. She shook it off as best she could; she knew trying to fend it off was temporary, but she couldn’t afford to be distracted.

“Oooooohhh you’re a funny one! IIiiiiiiii’llll have lots of fun tenderizing you!” Fatso cheered, rushing up to Boscha, slamming his corpulent fists into her legs, a scream of agony ripping out of her throat; he had definitely snapped a bone or two. Before she could move, he gripped her by the skull, violently slamming her against the stone. “Iiiiii’mmmm gonna have so much fun with you, and when you get all nice and tender, I’ll get to eat you all up! Wooooonnnnn’ttttt that be fun!?” He kicked her in the stomach, her lunch spilling out in response. “Aaaaaawwwww, you lost all that food! Tttthhhhaaaaattt’ssss no good! Nooooowwwwww you won’t taste as yummy when you get in my tummy!” He whined, hurling her away in annoyance. He pursed his lips, placing a pudgy finger on them. “HHHhhhmmmmm maybe I’ll have better luck if I try finding that scarf girl?”

Boscha’s eyes snapped open. Shakily rising to her feet, she screamed. “YOU KEEP AWAY FROM HER!!” With a roar, she rushed him, only for him to dismissively backhand her away, not even bothering to look at her.

“YYyyyoooouuu’rrrrrreee no fun anymore.” He said without a glance, waddling off. “Aaaaaaalllllll you can do is throw that stupid fire. Nnnnoooooo fun, no fun at all eating the same stupid trick.”

“Fun?” Boscha whispered, eyes widening in incredulousness. “You think this is supposed to be FUN!?” She half-screamed. Tears started building in her eyes. “HOW IS KILLING US, ATTACKING US WHEN WE’VE DONE NOTHING TO YOU, SUPPOSED TO BE FUN!?!?!?”

“Hhhuuuuuuuhhhh? Wwwwwhhhhaaatttt kinda stupid question is that? IIiiiiiittttt’ssss fun because I’m strong, and you’re weak.” He said, as if saying that the sky was red, or that plants were purple. “Tttthhhheeee boss said that, because I’m part of Oroboros, I can do whatever I want, eat anything I want, anyone I want, because I’m strong and they can’t stop me, so whatever I do is fun, because I say it’s fun!!” He cheerfully explained. “Eeeeaaaaatttttiiinnnnnggg is so much fun, I could eat forever!!!! BBbbuuuuuuttttt when I eat people-meat, it’s even more fun, because they give the bestest screams when they go in my tummy!!” He patted his gut for emphasis.

Boscha’s blood pounded in her ears. Strong? This… fat piece of TRASH thought he was strong!? No… he didn’t know the meaning of the word. She had seen real strength. He might’ve been powerful, but he wasn’t strong. If he faced someone with real strength, he’d be crying like a bitch. Boscha pulled herself to her feet, utterly indifferent to her previous pain, nothing but burning rage flowing through her veins at the moment. Flames sparked, sputtered… and raged. Boscha wasn’t sure if she was fully conscious at the moment, but she didn’t care. This bastard had threatened one of the few things in this life she actually cared about still, and he had the balls to pretend he knew what strength was, and that he was strong?

Flames pooled at her feet. In a burst of heat, Boscha zipped to Fatso’s side, fist cocked back. With a roar filled with the rage of a wild animal, Boscha slammed her fist so hard against his gelatinous face, she would swear later that she felt his bones bend around her fist. “You think you’re strong?” She asked, the deathly calm doing nothing to hide the burning hate hidden within.

As Fatso rocketed back, eyes snapped wide open in disbelief, Boscha rushed in, flame-clad knee slamming into his gut, watching in grim amusement as he coughed up a mix of blood and miscellaneous bits, whether the blood was his own or not was up for debate. “You don’t know anything about strength.” She ducked under his clumsy swing, landing a clean blow to the throat, prompting him to choke. “Strength isn’t about lording what power you have above someone else.” She slammed across his face, knuckles landing a solid hit to his eyes. “It isn’t acting as if you’re above the same rules and laws everyone has to follow.”

He grunted, and roared, swinging both arms down towards her skull. She leaned back, letting the attack whiff by, slamming home a kick to his chin. “It’s about making a difference.” She caught his next punch, her eyes narrowing at the panic in his gaze. “It’s about looking after what’s precious to you.” She twisted his arm to the side, prompting a squeal of pain. His eyes furrowed, before he lunged forth, attempting to swallow her, only for her to catch his face with her free hand, fingers covering his eyes and digging into his temples, arresting his movement. “It’s what happens when you stop standing on the sidelines to cruelty, or acting to further cruelty yourself.” Flames started licking up her arm, prompting Fatso to start struggling.

“I don’t think you’ve ever seen real strength before.” She casually continued, ignoring his screams as the flames scorched his face. “I wonder, if I had never seen real strength, would I have turned out as something like you?” She pondered, even as Fatso begged and pleaded for her to let go. “Even so…” She murmured, glaring at Fatso, even as his skin blackened and peeled under her grip. “How can you call yourself strong… when you’re losing to someone AS WEAK AS ME!?!?!?!?” She screamed, wetness pouring down her face. She screamed and screamed and screamed, all while the skin, fat, flesh, and what little muscle remained of his body all turned to ash, tears pouring down her face all the while. When all that was left was his scorched, pitted, blackened skeleton, Boscha fell to her knees, tears falling in pools. “I’m so sorry I’m weak. Maybe if I was stronger… you wouldn’t have had to die so slowly.” And with those words, Boscha fell, her strength spent.

[youralternantpersonality]

Sherlock

Seth x reader: Sherlock

WARNING: Virgin-like smut and Seth clap-back lol

*Additional characters names are as gender natural as I can get them*

***

Y/n POV

It had been a month of nonstop calling and texting to Seth wondering what the fuck is going on. One day, we're laughing in his room supposed to be doing homework and the next, he suddenly needs to avoid me. I tried talking to Sue and Leah, but no avail. Billy decided to take care of him (even though Sue is a nurse) so when I tried getting a hold of Billy, all I received was to not call again or automatic voicemail.

I decided enough was enough and I was going to confront him at school. He’d seen me in the hallway countless of times and ran the other way before I could get to him. This time, it wasn’t happening. This time I was going to make sure I get the answers I needed.

***

As I head to my last class, I find him with Embry and Jake at their lockers. I grab his arm to look at me only to barely have him move.

“Hey, what the hell Seth? What the hell is going on with you?” I pay no mind to Embry and Jake as Seth turns to look at me. I stare up at him and damn nearly forget to blink when I look into his eyes. I’ve always loved this boy, always had a crush on him, but now, it just seemed different. Trying to stay mad, I keep my composure waiting for an answer. Although, knowing him, he can read me like a book. He looked at me with a black expression and said.

“Leave me alone Y/n. What can't you get? We're not friends anymore. And by the way, you need to work on hiding that crush you have for me, it makes you look desperate." He said, turning around instantly, slamming his locker, and brushing past me faster than I could register what he just said. I have never felt a heartbreak as bad as I did at that moment. The expression must have been obvious because even Embry and Jake tried to talk to me.

“Y/n/n…” before Jake could even do anything, my defense mode went up and I looked at them, blank face, lack of emotions, and all that came with it. We've all known each other for years; they knew what this means when it came to me. I was beyond broken, and no amount of sense of care can snap me out of it.  

“I have to go.” I decided to skip my last class and head home. Once I got in my car, I calmly drove to the gas station to fill up and head home. When I got to my room, I calmly grabbed a cardboard box and absent mindlessly packed all his stuff. Pictures, tapes, clothing items, anything that was his. He lived here sometimes so I grabbed his clothes, bath wash (that I would use sometime), and anything that he had given me as a gift. Birthday cards, charms, dreamcatchers, trinkets, stones that looked like shit we found as kids, everything. It took 2 boxes to fill most of it, I put the rest of his clothes in a trash bag. I carried them to my car, running into my older siblings, Riley and DJ, who stopped me along the way.

“Woah there Trojan, what’s going on with you?” I looked at them dead in the face and they knew. Everyone knew something was wrong when a lack of emotions is displayed on my face.

“Who hurt you?” Riley said,

"Who do we have to kill?" DJ said afterward.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m through with them. Can you grab that box and that bag and help me bring this to the car? I have to return this.” I said heading towards the door.

“Didn’t Seth give you this ring?” It was a raven, he said because I was mysterious and cautious that it reminded him of me. I almost cracked at that moment.

“Wait, this is Seth’s t-shirts! Y/n, what happened? What did he do?” DJ said.

“Doesn’t matter, just put it in my car. I need to return his shit. I’ll tell you later.” I said placing the box in the front seat. They followed through without saying a word. They pulled me into a hug for emotional support and allowed me to go on my way.

I pulled up to the Clearwater’s house and proceeded to grab all his shit in one trip to the door. I was just about to knock when Leah and Sue open the door.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” Sue said, shocked and anxious at my appearance.

“Returning some things Seth left at my place.” Leah looks at me with a sad expression,

“Y/n…please…” she says seeing my face. They both knew, again, everyone who knew me knew what was wrong. I just wanted to get this day over with so I can go home and be invisible to the world for a while.

“I just wanted to drop this off, then I’ll be on my way.” And never return.

“He’s in his room. I’m sure he’d like to see you.” Leah softly smiled at Sues words. I stayed the same with doubt after what happened not even 3 hours ago.

“I highly doubt that.” There was a pregnant and awkward pause.

"Well, just let us know if you need anything. We have to head to work. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry." Sue said as if I was now welcomed here. Leah pulled me in a hug as if she would see me soon. I didn’t return it.

I stepped inside their home and placed the bag on the floor by the couch and grabbed one of the boxes to bring outside of his room. As I about to place the bag down to leave, bring my hand to the doorknob only to hear grunt noises and moaning. I stood there in shock and realize it wasn't fully closed. I listen and realize why he was so rude towards me…he was seeing someone else. I almost broke down right there if it wasn't for the fact that something caught my attention.

"Fuck, Y/n." I stop breathing, trying to see if I heard that correctly. Did he just say my name? I hear more grunts and moans and my name slipping from his lips again. This time I brace myself up against the wall and realize my breathing not only got hard but so did my nipples. I go to push it open to only see a sight to see.

Seth. Shirt off. Pants low. Pleasing himself. And at that moment, he said it again.

“Damn it Y/n you feel so good, baby." Shivers ran down my spine hearing him. I silently closed the door behind me and confidently walked up to him removing my shirt, shoes, and yoga pants in the process. I watch him a little bit longer as his hips start to buck at the thought of me pleasing him instead of his hands.  

I carefully walk up to him, bend over, and grab his length for him and licked the tip of his head. Alerting him that someone is here. He jumps, eyes wide, and scared for his life.

"Shit! Y/n…ah…what a-are you doing h-here?" he said trying to catch his breath while grabbing a pillow to cover himself. I ignore his question, calmly removing his pillow, straddle his leg, grab his length, and finish the job for him. He was hesitant at first, attempting to pull me from him until the tip of my tongue encountered his head. He was a goner after that.

I worked him through my hands calmly, trying to calm my nerves of excitement at the position I am in now—one that I have been dreaming of I might add. Bringing him in my mouth sucking him as far I can get him in, allowing my hand to pump him of what I can't reach, I move in slow motion. Painfully to slow for him. He bucks his hip in my mouth and grunts as his hand slips into my hair.

"Fuck baby, like that." I can feel his eyes staring at me, so I look up at him, making eye contact. I stick my tongue out and slap his cock against it and go back to slurping him and making all kinds of pleasurable noises. A pool develops between my legs and without even realizing what I am doing, I start rubbing myself for any amount of friction I can get.

“Shit, baby come here.” Seth pulls me up to him and kisses me with both passion and need. He flips me over and situates himself in between me. He realizes that I don’t have a bra on and instantly starts kneeing my breasts. His large hands play with my nipples, rubbing them in between his fingers and pulling gently yet firmly at them causing a reaction out of me.

“Fuck, Seth…” I whine quietly, unintentionally bucking my hips towards him. He reaches down and pulling at my underwear to take off. I lift my hips and he slides them off easily. He leans in to kiss me and starts rubbing my clit slowly. I whine and wrap my arms around his neck while moving with him. His other hand goes to my hips and pushes them down to stay still.

“Fuck. Let me do this for you baby. Relax, I got you.” He says, leaving kisses down my body until he reaches his destination. He licks his figure of the juice I provided on there for him, looks up at me dead in the eyes like a predator is about to eat his prey. And he does just that.

"Oh God!" my hands grab onto his sheets as he dives in savoring me with his tongue. He finds my clit almost instantly and focuses hard on that while watching my reaction. He wraps one arm around my hips to keep me still and the other to hold down my leg to the side to get a better angle. The constant noises that he makes only make me wetter as the seconds go by. He lifts slightly, and slips a figure in my slowly, curling upward making me gasp for my dear life. I'm not sure what he hit, but I only pray he keeps hitting that spot.

“You like that baby. You want more don’t you, huh baby girl.” He says looking back up at me, slowly sliding in a second figure, twirling and pumping in and out of me. He kisses my inner thigh and tells me to relax as he goes back to giving my clit more attention it deserves. He goes a little faster this time, hitting that spot repeatedly. I couldn’t contain myself anymore. I reach my hands in his hair roughly to pull him closer. I lift my legs onto his shoulders to give a better angle and god, it does wonder. He uses his free arm to lift my leg in the air, slapping my ass in the process of it. He starts to speed up his paste as my legs start to shake vigorously.

"That's it, baby, let go. Let go for me. Let go for Daddy." And I fucking lost it. I cried out seeing stars and tears running down my face. My hips bucked uncontrollably, and my legs and body shook as if I was a fish out of water. Seth climbed on top of me and kissed me. Tasting myself on his lips as he continued to rub me. I reached down to his member and slowly worked on him. I looked down and saw he was dripping. I looked up at him, his eyes closed, mouth slightly open in pleasure.

"More… please…" I whined in his ear and without hesitation, he lifted himself, took off his shorts and boxers, and situated himself again in between my legs.

“You sure baby?” I nodded and kissed him with what passion I had left.

"Pull out." He nodded. He rose and slowly entered me. Only having the head in, did his head fall back and a moan escapes his lips and he leaned over with one arm by my head and the other focusing on going inside of me. I wrapped my legs around his waist for a better angle and both of our breaths stopped. He looked me in the eyes as he fully was in me and we just paused. Not a second after he slowly thrust his hips and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Placing his other arm on the other side of my head, bending down to kiss me, that he kept up the paste until he felt me relaxing.

"Fuck baby, you feel good." He said, increasing his speed. He went to his elbows and kissed me, reminding me to breathe. I wrapped one arm around his neck and the other on his bicep. Holding on for my dear life.

“Faster… please.” I couldn’t control the word coming out of my mouth, but I didn’t regret the. He simply obliged and went faster.

"Like that baby? Fuck Y/n, you have no idea how long I've wanted you like this. Under me, begging me for more." I swear with every word coming from his mouth it only made me closer to my end. He rises, grabs my hips, and goes faster and slightly harder. I reach up to grab his forearm and lift my legs knees to chest. He grabs the back of them, lifts forward and thrusts slower but harder. I look down and only become wetter watching him enter me.  

“Fuck, Seth…Oh God bay, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” I cry out to him. He slaps my ass and says,

"Never." He leans back, grabs my legs, and shoves me closer to him and loses it. I grab onto him while arching my back and moan incoherent things to him. He takes his fingers and starts playing with my clit.

“Cum for me baby. Cum for Daddy again.” He says, trying to get me to cum before he does. It doesn’t take long, two pumps later, I’m withering underneath him calling out for him again. He increases his uneven paste and his breath hesitates. He pulls out at the last second and finishes on my stomach.

“Fuck! Ah, shit Y/n," he says hovering over me. Eyes closed, forehead to forehead, trying to catch our breath. His cock limps slightly as he lets go of it. He reaches down for some tissue and wipes his nonexistent children off of me, then cleans himself. He puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom and comes back with a wet washcloth and cleans in between my legs. It stings, but bearable. Once done, he comes back and lays down next to me. He pulls me close to him, kisses my head, and smiles. I wrap myself around his warm body and kiss him back.

“I guess I have some explaining to do, don’t I?”

“No shit sherlock.” I laugh, laying my head on his chest waiting for the much-needed explanation.

“Hold on…Daddy? Really?” I look up at him. He just looks at me, shrugs his shoulder and puts on a cheeky grin.

“You like it, don’t lie.”

“…Fuck you.”

“With pleasure.”

[astridbecks]

your heartbreak’s not your own anymore ; 1.7k, essek/caleb. tw suicidal ideation, partial drowning. occurs immediately after 2x97. on ao3.

///

The railing of the ship is the only thing keeping Essek anchored: the uneven texture of it, the faint pain of splinters not quite breaking his skin when he grips it harder. His feet ache where they press against the deck, unused to standing for so long. Still, the skin of his face is uncomfortably hot, the cool night air sharp against his blood-flushed cheeks. 

We’ve done nothing but show you kindness.

The sky feels more open, though he would be hard-pressed to find an actual difference between this sky and Rosohna’s. And the stars are different here. It’s a miniscule thing to be noticing at a time like this, but—all above him, a truth against the black. Like his body now, unprotected by glamour and bare to the Nicodranas air. If anyone saw him, an enemy to everyone, they would kill him without a second thought. 

We’ve done nothing but— 

He would deserve it. 

The worst part had not been the betrayal in the eyes of his friends, as he’d thought it would be. To die knowing they hated him would have been painful, but expected. 

But the kindness. 

Jester’s hand in his. Caduceus’ low voice. Caleb taking his face in his hands, telling him— 

Essek takes a breath, lets it out as a slow rush of air between parted lips. Closes his eyes. Where Caleb had pressed a kiss to his forehead, he imagines he can feel a scar, an unhealed brand. Below, the sea laps gently against the hull of the ship. 

It takes so little effort to lean forward, the railing digging into his stomach. To shift gravity and allow his body to pitch forward into empty air. For a moment, he’s falling, eyes still closed, and his mind is wiped silent by the wind for the first time in months— 

The impact with the water is harder than he expected, driving the breath from his chest. Instinctively, he opens his eyes, and through the salt-sting he sees only whirling air bubbles. Cold water rushes down his throat, burning as it goes. Panic rises despite everything, and he thrashes as the weight of his robes drags him down, darkness taking the edges of his vision.

Something seizes his wrist with painful force and wrenches him upwards. He breaks the surface, waterlogged and half-drowned, and finds himself face-to-face with Caleb, whose hand is clenched around Essek’s wrist, keeping him afloat. 

Essek tries to pull away, but Caleb gestures sharply and he finds himself flung from the water, hurled onto the deck of the ship. He lands hard—could easily have cushioned his fall, but takes it. 

As he starts to sit up, Caleb rises over the railing himself, dripping with seawater, and reaches for Essek’s collar, hauling him to his feet with surprising strength. He slams Essek against the mast with his forearm braced against the drow’s chest, fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, breath ragged. When he speaks, his voice is a low growl. “What are you doing?”

Essek coughs, hands pressing weakly against Caleb’s shoulders in token resistance—not trying to push him away, but pretending he could if he wanted to. (He should want to.)  

“What are you doing,” Caleb repeats, quieter, but Essek can see that he knows.  

Essek chokes out past the last of the saltwater in his throat: “I told you. I do not—I am not redeemable.” 

“So you are going to cast yourself into the sea? Run from it all?” The saltwater trickling from Caleb’s hair and down his face could be tears. “We are offering you another chance to live, not to—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise. 

“I want,” Essek starts, but there’s no way to finish that sentence that would make sense, that would make Caleb see. The human’s hair clings wet to his face, and Essek has this terrible urge to reach up and brush it aside. 

“What was your plan?” He hasn’t let up his pressure on Essek’s chest, keeping him pinned, fenced in. It should feel suffocating. Essek hates how it feels safe instead. “What did you think would happen?”

“I imagine,” Essek says, voice steady in a way everything else in him is not, “that if I was found out now, I would be taken outside of the radius of a beacon and executed. But if I die within the radius of a beacon, then I will return to it.”

“And when you are reborn and begin remembering? When you are a child and you find that you still carry these—these memories of regret and betrayal, what then?”

Essek tries to pull away. Caleb grabs his chin, forces his face towards him. The human’s eyes burn hotter than that shade of blue should be able to. Essek bites his tongue until he tastes copper, the pain a bright flare in the numbness of everything else, and wishes more than anything that he were somewhere, anywhere else.

“Tell me, Essek,” Caleb presses, insistent. “What does this do for you except delay the inevitable confrontation you must have with your guilt?”

Essek inhales, tasting salt in the back of his throat. “It is not the first time I have considered starting anew,” he whispers. “To at least have a second life to my name. I only did not because of the years that would be lost without memory. Ten, fifteen years of interruption to my work—it would not have been worth it.” 

“And now?”

“Now,” he says. Closes his eyes so he does not have to see Caleb’s face. “It is the expedient thing to do.”

“Bullshit,” Caleb snarls. “You are running from this.” 

“Caleb,” he says, because he cannot say friend, but the man’s name is as much of a thorn on his tongue. The shudder that runs through his body must be obvious from this close, because Caleb moves back just a little—not enough to break contact, but a lessening of pressure. 

Essek opens his eyes again, but looking at Caleb is too much, like sun off the sea. Unbearable.  

“Running will not solve anything.” Caleb’s voice twists bitter, just for a second. “Trust me. I know.” A long breath, then: “I do not wish for you to die, Herr Thelyss, even if it would only be—temporary.”

All this time, Essek has expected—emptiness, disdain, a world turned against him. He can handle cruelty or anger. He does not know what to do with love. 

He opens his mouth, tries to tell Caleb to go, to leave him, but instead the truth comes tumbling out, a wave he cannot stop, as much of a drowning as the sea below. “I do not want to feel this. I want to forget, even if only for a short time. And perhaps in fifteen years—” His voice cracks shamefully. He pushes through. “Perhaps I will have a conscience and a courage that I do not have now. Or at least I will be discovered by those who conduct my anamnesis and dealt with before I even fully recall what crimes I have done.”

Caleb hisses a sharp breath out between his teeth. Pulls away at last, and the night air rushes into the space between them, chill against Essek’s still-wet clothes. Caleb, too, is in the same formalwear, now half-ruined with water from jumping in the ocean after Essek. Essek has the ridiculous urge to apologize for that. He’ll just add it to the long list of things he’s done wrong tonight.

He takes Caleb’s hands in his own, and as handsome as the man is, his skin is weathered and scarred from more living than Essek has accomplished in the eighty-odd year headstart he had. For a moment, it’s only that—skin on skin. Caleb’s hands are so warm, despite the chill of the sea and the night air.

“What,” Caleb begins, but Essek brings their hands up, presses Caleb’s to his chest, just below where Essek’s collar dips to reveal dusk-dark skin. 

“You have a powerful mastery of the arcane,” he breathes, and now he cannot look away from Caleb’s eyes, bright as they burn, his voice shaking with an unspoken plea. “You could make it quick.” 

Caleb’s fingers clench, nails digging into Essek’s skin through the fabric of his robe. “You will not find satisfaction by burning it all down,” he whispers, and there’s a memory-heavy weight to his voice. He’s looking at Essek like he sees something else, something beside a miserable, cowardly traitor. It’s an inferno, it’s hopeful. It makes Essek’s breath catch in his throat. 

“I am not an innocent. I have caused the deaths of thousands.” The corner of his mouth curls, bitter. “You would not have to carry my death on your conscience. It would be justice.”

“Do you think we would not mourn our friend?”

“Your friend was a lie,” Essek snaps. “I was foolish, wishing for something I could never have after what I have done. I should have never allowed myself to—” The words stick in his throat. 

“To care? Is that what you cannot say?” He jabs a finger into Essek’s shoulder. “Well, you are, as they say, shit out of luck, because you do care, and we care for you, whether you believe it or not, and we have offered you a way to the light. If you choose to turn away and continue on your former path, then so be it, but I will not allow you to flee entirely from this.”

There’s a growing tightness in Essek’s chest that radiates from where Caleb touches him. Yes, he cares, and it is not a comfort. It is a wound he cannot escape.

“Allow yourself to feel this,” Caleb says, unbearably gentle. “You have been offered a chance. You may not get another.”

“I do not deserve—” Love. Forgiveness. Anything being offered by these people that he wishes he could call friends. 

“You have it regardless.” Caleb steps away. “You have it.” He sighs, glances over the railing. “If I turn my back on you, will you throw yourself into the sea again?”

Essek shakes his head and summons a tone of voice that falls just short of casual. “Not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Caleb repeats, nodding. “That will do for now.” He hesitates, then touches the tips of his fingers to Essek’s cheek. “We take this one day at a time, ja?”

Essek nods.