#when I woke up the sky was grey and I thought “oh it might rain again??”

[morphestic]

I was feeling better but the air quality has gotten so bad that my throat feels scratchy and the congestion that was mostly gone came back again

[wills-woodland-warriors]

The Pit Tw: Drowning 

TawnyKit kicked at the dirt with her small white paw, huffing as she laid down on the flattened dirt. She could still feel the phantom touches of bugs crawling on her, and the scratches on her shoulder burned. 

Dada had said that they would heal. But it’s been who-knows-how long and they still dripped and stung. 

In a blink of an eye the sky flashed above and a loud crackle sounded through the darkened sky. 

It began to spit, washing mud off of her fur and causing her paws to sink. 

She curled up around her paws, head ducked under her paws to stay dry. 

 - 

She couldn’t breathe. 

Her lungs ached and her ears rang as she struggled against the surface, the water far above her head and causing her to have to swim desperately to stay afloat in the pit. 

Her paws scraped at the walls, trying to grab onto something, anything. 

She gasped for breath with every sip of the waves, and tried to hook her claws into the mud. It slipped out of her claws, dropping her down into the water and knocking her head against the ground as another boom of thunder sounded. 

She was going to die a second time. 

Her whole body burned with straining muscles and she felt bile rising in her throat as she screamed into the storm, begging for anyone to notice her. 

Maybe her dada was right, maybe she was meant to die out here.

A strike of lightning lit up the top of the pit, revealing a cats figure shadowed by the rain. 

For a brief moment she thought it was her father, and she wasn’t sure if she was meant to be terrified or relieved. 

Nonetheless, the strange cat pulled her out by the scruff, and for the first time in many moons she felt grass. 

Her joy was covered by a fit of coughs racking her chest, her fur so cold the white spots might as well have been LeafBare snow. 

The cat nudged her, and she flinched away in instinct. They picked her up, and as she hung limply in the strangers jaws, her head spun and she cried out for her family. 

 - 

She looked so much like HornetLeg. She was so small, and mud covered. Her already thin fur clung to her pelt leaving the ridges of her ribs exposed. 

LoonFur stood awkwardly at the entrance of the den, and FleaThistle gave her a warm look. 

“Thank you for leading me to her. If you hadn’t heard the cries and ran for help I think she would have died,” 

LoonFur gave him a quick smile, saying she was glad she could help, and ducked out of the den to head back to her own before the mud became too steep. 

FleaThistle leaned down and began to lick the kit clean, ignoring his own dirty fur. 

After he’d groomed her, he padded the moss around her small body to keep her warm. 

He ducked out of the den, blinking against the strong rain pouring into his eyes. It was  difficult to get to JackDaw and FernDoe’s den in the storm, his paws slipping and the muddy water going up to his shoulders at times. 

He glanced up at the trees when he heard a branch crack, and saw GremlinFrost’s small frame staring down at him. 

“FleaThistle? What are you doing out?” 

FleaThistle hauled himself onto a tree stump just out of the mud so that he could stand without sinking. 

“I need to talk to FadingStar,” He panted, blinking back tears as the mud stung the cuts on his torso. 

“In this storm? Head back home, I’ll get him for you,” the blue eyed tom shook his head, and his voice sounded far too old for his age. He was barely an apprentice, and FleaThistle’s heart ached, wondering if he was alone out here. 

 - 

She woke up in a small den, thin, twig like roots from a tree stump poking out of the walls and brushing her fur. 

TawnyKit whimpered, lifting her head as she pulled herself into a sitting position. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a small, brown-grey tom poked his head up, carrying a mouthful of leaves.  

TawnyKit blinked, tagging in the sight of cuts lacing down his fur, chunks of flesh held on with poultices and bandages. 

His ear was almost completely missing, more so a stump. Despite his injuries, somehow she felt calm. His eyes were warm. Kind. 

He looked  though, almost fearful. 

“Who are you?” She coughed, her voice hoarse.

“My name is FleaThistle! And.. and you are?” 

“TawnyKit,” she chirped, tucking her tail over her paws as she shivered, her fur still slightly damp. 

The tom—FleaThistle—nodded, placing a few leaves in front of her. They were a bit crunchy, but she ate them anyway. 

“Do you remember what happened?” He asked gently, sitting down in the nest next to her. 

At the back of the den, two small brown toms were curled up, snoring lightly. Their nest was decorated with pebbles and feathers, and FleaThistle gave them a warm look before turning back to her. 

“I remember drowning. And someone pulled me out,” she sniffed, her pelt prickling and ears flattening at the memory. 

“Well.. that was me. Do you know if your parents are here?” 

“My dad, HornetLeg. My clan said he was a bad cat,” 

FleaThistle froze, before shivering and leaning over to smooth his pelt down. He took a few deep breathes. 

“I’m sorry sweetie, but he’s not here anymore.” 

She nodded, pressing her paws into the moss bed to ground herself. 

“I can take care of you, if you’d like. My husband and I spoke about it and we’d be happy to,” His voice was soft, gentle. 

TawnyKit thought for a few moments, looking around the comfortable den, and into FleaThistle’s kind eyes. She’d be safe here. 

“I’d like that,” 

———

I’d love to know what anyone thinks of this! 

LoonFur, JackDawFoot, and FernDoe belong to @residents-of-the-darkforest 

FadingStar belongs to @liberhoe 

StumpPaw belongs to @ambitiousauthor 

HornetLeg, FleaThistle, TawnyKit, GremlinFrost are my characters 

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Da capo - part 6

Trail post part 1 to 5

Ritenuto (Italian: 'held back')

It was raining.

Harry stared out of the window of the restless night watching the sky pour down over the earthly land. He sat there on the bed, hearing faint hustling from outside in the hallway and the sound of water crashing against the window, he remained there, watching and falling in love. It was easier he realised while his mind wrote down with a quill in his head that Loving was easier, that falling in love was easier, falling out was hard and it's not because nobody tells you how to but because we all fear abandonment, and in love there isn't abandonment. He hates thinking about the night he had to leave Draco because it was easier to just not think about it and even if he hated the easy way, he never complied thinking the hard way because perhaps for once he wanted things to be easy.. Maybe that's why he didn't return, among many other reasons he doesn't know. Among many other reasons he wishes he knew.

He woke up the next morning and being done with morning routine, he realised he had nothing to do. He could visit Arthur but the ward remained close today as he heard clearly yesterday by the nurses. He thought he might go shopping but he always hated the idea of shopping alone. He could maybe take a walk but he couldn't remain on the streets all day and he didn't wanted to disturb the Weasley's anymore, he had already been enough of a trouble to them, in the past and now.

" you could come to the office with me and Ron, they'd love you down there obviously but you can just explore the visitor section"

" ministry is possibly the most boring place to be Hermione " harry rolled his eyes as he shut the last page of the daily prophet and slided the newspaper across the counter.

" it's not all bad alright. Maybe you could even try and patch things up with Ron " Hermione suggested

" I'd much rather not be murdered in his office Hermione " harry replied lazily.

" you can't Just sulk in here harry" she sighed and then just as randomly it hit her " you know what you have to do nothing..but you can help me right ?"

" help you with what ?" He asked strangely curious.

" we have got these old cold cases files that's already been done but nobody is ready to tally them to check which one's closed, which one's are still being worked on and which ones need to be worked on. You can help check them " Hermione suggested.

"I'd rather choke to death mione. I left ministry for a reason " harry rolled his eyes.

" come on-"

" fine" he dragged on " I'll come but I'll be in the visitor's section. I'd wander about and if nothing interests me I'll come back "

Hermione thought for a moment but then nodded and very much regrettably harry left with her soon enough.

Harry was absolutely right about ministry being a very boring place. Hermione was as busy as ever and Ron Definitely didn't wanted to see him, everyone's gawked at him like an old extinct species present in a museum and the visitors section was filled with mostly bunch of kids who came on a trip. Harry was more than ready to just go back home and was walking to Hermione's office when he collided with someone just before her door.

" I'm so sorry- I didn't- Draco?" Harry frowned.

" what are you doing here ?" He asked immediately.

" well- you know I like to walk around here with files and running in circles " Draco joked, harry almost did smile " I work here obviously . I didn't know you were coming "

" oh, Arthur fell sick. I had to visit " harry replied.

" oh " draco replied as though realisation stroke him just then " I heard about that. How is he doing now ?"

" fine " harry nodded.

They remained there awkwardly looking at each other when someone crashed by Harry and his eyes fell onto Hermione's office door.

" listen I - I'm sorry- I gotta go actually. I need to- well talk to Hermione, but meet me soon I guess ?" Harry Suggested.

" oh- no- sure, yeah. Meet you soon then "; harry nodded and walked past Draco, almost about to knock her door when he heard him call out.

" what ?" Harry responded.

" I'm - almost done with work. Wanna go somewhere ?" Draco asked. Harry thought about it for a moment, his mind screaming of how weird it was, how awkward it would be and how incredibly wrong it was to see your ex boyfriend just as a friend.

" sure " instead harry replied.

" wanna come in my office then. I just need to-"

" sure " harry smiled cutting him off before Draco could've even explained but then it didn't matter and they walked into Draco's office.

" potioneer then " harry nodded as he entered his office.

" yeah, I got the opportunity last year and I thought why not. Hermione suggested me. Thanks to her" Draco dismissively replied stashing his files into his bag and locking.

" so why didn't you call when you came ?" Draco asked as he wore his coat, checking his pockets one last time.

" I just came actually, a day before yesterday and things had been busy with making up- meeting everyone and- just things " harry replied pocketing his hands.

Draco understandingly nodded and walked them out of the door.

They made a few small talks as they walked out of the ministry and strolled across a few more streets.

" so- you sold the apartment ?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco looked at harry for a moment before he realised what he meant and shook his head " it's already hard enough to find apartments here, I couldn't afford losing another and I mean it's not that apartment was the reason for everything, right "

Harry understandingly nodded but somewhere they both were welcomed with the fact of how strange it was to be like this, they were pretending maybe but it wasn't easy to just forget everything and yet both were playing their parts to the best.

They walked silently a few more streets both thinking of the same thing yet none dared to bring it up again, after all they had decided that they won't be the ex's who can't be friends.

" you wanna come over to my place, for dinner, maybe ?" Draco offered.

Harry wanted to say no, even almost said no but somewhere in the back of his mind knocked the images of Ron and Hermione and their pity looks or their hesitation in being able to talk. Considering the history it should have been harder with Draco but surprisingly enough, it wasn't as hard and so he responded " sure. Not like I have any other places to be "

Draco nodded and took the turn for his apartment and in not less than 5 minutes they were there as though he had planned to take harry home. They walked up the stairs in deafening silence and didn't utter a single word even when they entered the apartment, it was a doorbell that startle them and defiantly made them talk.

" mrs. Kentucky, how are you doing ?" Draco greeted his neighbour with a huge grin.

" lovely Darling. Wanted to return the sugar I borrowed and - is that Harry ?" She peered a little more through the door to get a better view but as Draco turned around to check on Harry, he vigorously shook his head.

" no, no that's just a colleague. Not a very friendly one at that " Draco Whispered and she nodded.

" not friendly eh, so not gonna date him huh" she mischievously smiled. Draco reddened at her words and immediately took the sashe of sugar and practically Shoved her out continuously thanking her and with a loud thud closed the door.

" she just-"

" I know " harry nodded smiling knowing exactly the kind of gossip lady Mrs. Kentucky was.

" ju- just for the record- I- I didn't bring anyone so there's nothing to-"

" Draco " harry stopped him " it's fine. We're- history " he added.

Draco seemed as though he wanted to say something but didn't and followed into the living room after nodding at harry.

" this place hasn't changed at all" harry said after having glanced the place.

" I- I didn't really feel like the need to " Draco replied.

" you mind if I- change ?"

" no, no of course not " harry shook his head vigorously and turned around to head towards the couch. Draco took it as a cue to get changed fast and join him again in the living room.

Harry despite having initially planned on sitting over the couch, stepped into the balcony and let himself gawk at the view. It's been so long he last saw the beautiful view it offered. The balcony had always been a very peaceful, calm escape especially when things seemed to overweight him; he can remember endless nights he had stood on the balcony because he felt as if something is someone was choking him, like the coil around his neck only tightened and he surged for air and this place had been where he came for a breath. He never was able to understand why everything was the way it was as and when he looked for answers, he couldn't, at least from not where he was. As he stood there watching over the city of London he was hit with strong realisation of how much he actually missed being here, missed the smell of the pizza place down the road and the sound of loud TV from the apartment next door and the lights that flickered on the road by the passing cars and the sight of clock tower, he missed being able to see over such a long latitude and wonder how farther the end is and it wasn't as if he didn't like paris, but paris wasn't London. Paris didn't had that flickering lights going by down the streets or the kids running down the streets on a skateboard or the loud neighbour next door with obnoxious loud TV nor it had the clock nor Paris had that calming grey look in the sky because of the always unprecedented rain about to happen any moment. Paris just wasn't what he thought it was.

" missed this ?" He heard. Harry didn't need to turn around, he just nodded.

" paris doesn't give you this ?" He asked as he stood by next to harry.

" there's a lot of things paris doesn't have " harry mumbled wishing he could explain Draco everything but he couldn't. He waited for Draco to ask why did he leave but he never asked and this is why perhaps tonight Harry was here and not there. Perhaps this is why Harry found it easier to be with Draco because he didn't ask too many questions, because he never asked unless he knew harry wanted to asked, because he understood when Harry didn't feel like talking, because he understood harry like no one else and even when draco should be the last person to understand harry and give him another chance, he did and maybe that's why he was here tonight, in the heart of the City with the one man who's heart was just broken as Harry because he knew harry, when no one else seemed to.

" London is home-"

" and Paris isn't ?"

Harry just shook his head. Paris was everything but home.

Because in paris, there wasn't you. Because there wasn't you in your blue blowy shirt and washed jeans with open arms, there wasn't you..

Part 7

I don't know why the short chapter!!!

300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

[monaisme]

The Battle

No one had seen Peter staggering through the portal. For what they were walking into, Peter could only guess that whoever was on the other side of things was focussing more on the masses and not on some kid from Queens in a spider-suit.

His eyes widened as he tried to take in the destruction before him. Dr. Strange had said that it had been five years and that they all had to go fight; that this was a battle for the very universe.

Peter had almost thought he was joking-- and then he saw this.

The sky was grey with smoke and fires still burned in the rubble that had once been the compound. Peter was sure he recognized the Asgardian symbol still etched into the grass next to what was left of the long drive that wound its way up to the now decimated building. The labs, the training rooms—his bedroom for all those weekends with Mr. Stark… everything was gone. 

He choked back his panic.  

Peter had tried to explain to the wizard what was happening before they’d even left Titan, but the abrupt, “Not now, Peter. We have to go,” followed by their arrival? Yeah, he’d never gotten the chance.

And now? 

Now he was going to die. He was certain of it.

A wave of nausea washed over him and Peter tried not to visibly hunch over from the pain of his body cramping. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and he’d only walked a matter of feet-- granted, it was from one planet to another, but those portals were closed now and that wasn’t the point. It was happening to him again, and someone needed to know that he couldn’t use his—  

“AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!” 

The hush that had fallen upon their arrival was broken by Captain America’s battle cry, and the multitude of people, aliens, and allies were suddenly surging forward in an attack like nothing Peter could ever have imagined.

He did his best to keep up. Peter was an Avenger too, after all, though he wasn’t quite sure how effective he’d be with the asthma that was now acting up with vengeance. Already he was sure it would kill him before any of Thanos’s minions could.

He felt his muscles straining—maybe even rippling as he pushed himself onward, weaving through the clusters of fighting, trying to find some way to help. A tripping up here or the retrieval of a weapon there was all he could manage but he was grateful that he could at least do that.

He paused, doubled over and trying to catch his breath. He tried squinting through the chaos as he gasped-- hoped he’d see Iron Man red through the insanity—and then he did! 

Iron Man was there, firing repulsor blast after repulsor blast at the enemy and for a brief second, Peter was reminded of why Mr. Stark was his favourite Avenger. Then a mammoth of an alien came up from behind, throwing his mentor to the ground and preparing to strike him down.    

Peter moved without a thought. He ignored the ache in his lungs and the pain that was amplifying through his body again as he threw his arm out and thwipped at the creature’s ankles. Peter jerked at the taut webbing with everything he could muster to no avail. He was too weak. His only hope had been...

It took a step closer, lifting its weapon to aim and then... well, it tried.

Even with the explosions and blasts around them, Peter could feel the earth beneath him shudder at the impact of its body falling to the ground and he struggled to stay upright. It looked at the bindings around its ankles, seemingly confused by what could have confined it... not that it mattered.  The big-small guy from Berlin was suddenly stepping over him and crushing their enemy.

If he hadn’t been so shocked by how that had played out, it might have been one of the coolest things Peter had ever seen.

He took a second to take in the scene, the people around him, and then Mr. Stark. Air not moving through lungs right be damned, there he was, and Peter could finally get the help that he needed. “Hey! Holy cow! You will not believe what’s going on,” He paused to try and catch his breath. “You remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? Well,” he fought to hide the wheeze. “I woke up and you were gone but Dr. Strange was there, right?” Peter’s head was spinning, but he needed to get all of this out so that Mr. Stark understood. “He was like, it’s been five years. C’mon, they need us and he started doing the yellow sparkling thing he does all the time and, oh.” Mr. Stark rushed forward and grasped his shoulders. “What are you doing?” He didn’t understand.

And his mentor, the man he’d secretly thought of as a father-figure for months—or was it really years?—pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, this is nice.” Peter melted in the embrace, feeling safer than he could remember in a long time.  

Their reunion didn’t last long enough. Peter pulled back a little and opened his mouth to tell Mr. Stark what was going on when the battle encroached again and the two were separated.

It was a blur.  Mr. Stark went left and Peter went right—he’d lost sight of the Iron Man suit within seconds, and still no one knew. And then, if things hadn’t already been crazy enough, the Black Panther and that Squidward guy were in a battle for that damned gauntlet... and Peter was there in the thick of it.

Searing pain shot through his legs and spine so he crouched down, trying to relieve even a fraction of it, then the ground rose up beneath him. He’d barely managed to keep his balance when the Black Panther tossed the gauntlet at Peter directly and continued on with his fight.

He couldn’t hide the shock on his face. He’d caught it and even managed to keep hold of it while the earth below him dropped, leaving him winded and spread eagle on the ground. “Aw, shit,” he coughed out as he tried to catch his breath again. He just couldn’t catch a break.

And then he noticed the silence, again.

Every eye was on him.

In a burst of genius, Peter webbed the gauntlet to his chest and shouted out, “Activate Instant Kill!” Karen complied and within a blink, his red-lensed mask was back in place and six vibranium legs extended from their hiding place. Peter uttered thanks for Mr. Stark and his ability to create something so ridiculously intuitive. The legs brought him back up to standing, but he staggered as he tried to find his footing. The suit had been incredible to use on Titan, but that was before his powers had—

The crowd of enemies swarmed.

He hadn’t moved quickly enough. His reflexes were fighting with his new limitations, leaving him with exactly zero ability to fight back against the dogpile currently punching and kicking on top of him. He felt a couple of his ribs break and he collapsed from the sheer weight on top of him as he curled around their prize. It hurt so much more for his body’s rebellion. His six legs slashed and stabbed at his attackers giving him a hell’s chance of trying to claw his way out. “Help.” Peter choked out, “Somebody help.”

He could barely hear Captain America over his comms, “Hey, Queens! Heads up!” Like a man drowning at sea, he raised his hand up above the fray and webbed hold of Thor’s hammer handle as it flew past.

He couldn’t be sure if he heard or felt the pop of his shoulder dislocating as the hammer’s momentum pulled him from the fray. All he knew was that it hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life. It took everything he had left—and it didn’t feel like much—to not release. Instead, Peter grabbed onto his web with his good hand, brushed against the gauntlet still attached to him, and prayed that his strength would hold long enough to get him far enough away.

A blast from a ship overhead messed that plan up right away as it sliced through the webbing and he plummeted to the ground. He was sure he was going to die in that very moment and closed his eyes, bracing himself for an impact that never came. Someone in an Iron Man-like suit caught him by his dislocated arm and flung Peter back up into the air.

He was sure he’d screamed, even as his vision whited out from the pain, and he was sure he was airborne, even as his head had barely cleared and the wind whipped past him. That he’d landed on something that was rising and dropping in a rhythm unlike anything he could place was confusing, even as his mind began to muddle—though he thought that might be because of the fever.

Dammit! The fever had been the worst last time.

He worked to focus on his surroundings—couldn’t, and then he was falling again.

No one caught him this time.

He came to with a start and a laser focus. The earth around him was exploding and it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t see and that his muscles were screaming out in agony and that his nerves were on fire and that he was so damned hot—all that mattered was that he do his part, ‘cuz Spider-Man was an Avenger. He couldn’t move though, it was too much for all of the weapon fire, save for closing his eyes, curling himself protectively around that damned gauntlet and waiting for the end.

Please, let this end.

And then it did.

If Peter had known to open his eyes, he’d have seen a bright light streaking through the clouds and then cut straight through the ship that had been raining down hellfire, even with his poor vision. He’d have seen the ship darken and then tilt, even as it floated above the battlefield, then crash into the hoards of Thanos’s alien soldiers, decimating their numbers. He’d have seen the streak of light slow, and then descend to exactly where he lay.

But he kept his eyes closed, hoped it would make him invisible...

Someone tapped on his shoulder.

He gasped at the shock of the touch and his eyes flew open, though he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. The dirt and dust were still settling and the grit was irritating his eyes something awful. But then he could see—crouching on the ground before him, a woman, all glow and smile.

He could have wept with relief. An ally.

He staggered as he climbed to his feet. Black spots danced before his eyes, but he fought against them, tried to take a deep breath, and then fought again the pain of his transformation and battle injuries. “Hi,” he rasped out. “Peter Parker.”

Her smile disappeared and her brow furrowed in concern. “Hey, Peter Parker. You got something for me?”

His ears started ringing then, and the earth tipped just a little to the left. He couldn’t understand, “What?”

He thought she was looking at him a little weird, which was okay, ‘cuz Peter was a little weird, but then she stepped towards him, cautious. “Peter? Can I have the gauntlet now?”

His eyelids fluttered and he could see the blackness edging in at the corner of his vision, but he knew he had to fight it. She needed something from him and it was... was...

“Peter?”

He swayed.

“Peter, I’m gonna lay you down, buddy. Okay?”

He nodded dumbly.

She placed a hand on his good shoulder for comfort, he thought, but then she was laying him down in the dirt.”

“Stark!” He heard her bark out to no one. “Something’s wrong with your kid. Get to my position now!”

He closed his eyes as the woman stood up and starting firing at something over wherever because it didn’t matter anymore. He was just gonna rest for a minute and closed his eyes and—his head lolled to the side.

“Peter!” A hand tapped against his cheek. “This is not the time for checkin’ out, kiddo. Wakey, wakey!” The hand tapped again.

“Stark, I need to get the gauntlet over to the quantum tunnel.” Weapons fire blasted over him. “Is there any way you can get that thing off of him for me?”  More blasting. “I didn’t want to damage him or the suit anymore, in case...”

The tapping turned to light slaps and Peter tried to swat it away. “Nghhh.” He turned his head away.

“Hey! Peter! C’mon, kid. I need you to listen to me.”

Mr. Stark?

“We need you to switch your web settings to the solvent. I don’t know if it’s your suit or mine, but a suit is damaged and FRIDAY can’t connect to get Karen to make the switch.” He slapped again. “Pete, we need the gauntlet and can’t get it off without burning you. Are you hearing me?”

More shots and then an explosion off in the distance.

Mr. Stark muttered a “shit.” The slaps started to hurt. “We gotta do this now, kiddo. Please wake up.”

It was like he was just waiting for someone to ask nicely. His eyes widened and he gulped in air like he’d been underwater. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. “Wha’s goin’ on?” He asked, using the last of that breath.

“Thank goodness! Pete, your web solvent. Activate it. We need to get the gauntlet off of you and away, okay? Can you do that, buddy?”

Peter looked at Mr. Stark, who’d definitely been hurt since they’d last seen each other, and then at the woman standing as protector over them. He thought he understood, nodded a yes to Mr. Stark, and then whispered, “Karen, web solvent.” He knew that the change had happened. Karen never let him down—and then he moved his arm to spray and release... or tried.

Mr. Stark saw what he was doing and saw what the problem was right away. “Kid, the shooter’s damaged. You’ll need to use your other...” Mr. Stark must’ve finally noticed his other arm—and the obvious malformation at Peter’s still dislocated shoulder. “Oh. Shit.”

Even for the everything going on inside of and around him, Peter’s brain cleared enough to mutter, “Just move it and double tap.”

Another explosion, this one closer than the last one, went off and the woman looked at Mr. Stark, announced that she’d be right back, and flew off into the chaos.

It was just the two of them.

Mr. Stark looked lost as he shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you, kid, but we don’t have time...” He gripped Peter’s limp arm and closed his eyes, like he was praying. “I’m so sorry for this.”

“I’s okay, Mr. Stark,” he coughed out. “Fix it later, ‘kay?”

Mr. Stark teared up a little, then nodded. “Yeah, kid. We’ll definitely be fixing this.” He lifted Peter’s arm and manoeuvred it so he could access the webshooters. He looked back into Peter’s eyes and said, “I’ll be quick.”

And with a nod from Peter, Mr. Stark pressed down on the webshooter and covered the gauntlet—finally releasing it from its webbed confines.

The world spun as Peter grunted through the pain of having his arm manipulated. The grunting led to coughing and, as Tony lifted the gauntlet off of Peter’s chest, the coughing became uncontrollable and turned into choking.

“Is he okay?”

The woman had returned.

“I’ve got him. Just deal with that,” Mr. Stark commanded as he handed her the gauntlet and the woman flew off.

If Peter never saw it again...

He suddenly gagged as he struggled to find a rhythm, but he couldn’t. The gagging turned to dry heaving and he could barely inhale. Peter started to panic.

Mr. Stark was right beside, but moved—shifting Peter onto his side and ignoring the lighting pain in his arm altogether as he moved him into the recovery position.

His throat tightened and then his body purged. Bile and Titan’s dust filled his throat and mouth as he tried to expel it, but he was so weak and so tired...

A hand slammed against his back, “Get it out, Peter. C’mon! Out!”

It helped, as he tried to empty himself of that other planet, and Peter thought that maybe he’d be okay until—

Muscles rippled once more and his entire body burned from the inside, out. His senses amplified it all as he could hear everything from the cries of people dying on the battlefield to crackling of flames still not burned out. Beyond the vomit and Mr. Stark’s blood, the smell of dust and ash filled his nose and he choked again as the wind sandblasted his face.

He tried to cry out.

Mr. Stark pressed firm against his back, “I’ve got you, Peter. I’m here.” He whispered, and he leaned over the boy to sweep the vomit from his mouth. “We’ll fix this, kid. I promise.”

And Peter was just grateful that he wasn’t going to die alone.  

The fight was dizzying in its intensity, so he closed his eyes to the onslaught of visual stimuli. His timing was impeccable, as a flash of light bright enough to burn through Peter’s eyelids burst out from somewhere—Peter couldn’t focus on it for the pain of the overload. He writhed as though tortured.

And then the wind caught again—this time it carried with it a different ash, one he’d smelled on Titan and that he couldn’t bear to smell again. He clawed at the ground, tried to get away from the inevitable... tried to get away from the hurt and darkness and moaning and wailing and emptiness...

And then Peter finally succumbed to the nothing.

* * * * * *

“—eter! Wake up! C’mon, ki—“

* * * * * *

“—incredible! His DNA is literally rewriting its—“

* * * * * *

“The overload must have been just—“

* * * * * *

“Hey, Peter Parker, you’re pretty badass considering—“

* * * * * *

“—on his side! Bruce, grab the compresses again, now! Dammit, he’s seiz—“

* * * * * *

“—May. I know. I wish you could be here, too, but as soon as he wakes up we’ll give you a call and set up a video chat, okay?” A pause. “Yes, May, I’ll tell him that you love him.” A snort laugh. “Yes, May. I’ll give him a big kiss and tell him that he’s grounded.” Another pause. “I know, May. Do you need anything? I can have—“

* * * * * *

“—eter? Hey, kid, are you coming back to us now? I’ve waited a long time to see you, bud, and you’re making me nuts here. I can’t do another five, ‘kay?”

* * * * * *

“—don’t wake him up, Pepper. I’m telling you. Dr. Cho did some tests and it looks like he’s coming back to us. We just need him to—I don’t know? Finish cooking?”

Ms. Potts snorted. “Cute, Tony. I’m just worried that you aren’t getting the rest that you need and with everything going on now—“

“Hey, hey, hey! You know you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine—and tired is like a perpetual state of being for me—even now that I’ve been domesticated.”

Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts laughed quietly, and then Peter was sure he could hear the sound of kissing. He groaned. Seriously? He was dying and his mentor was making out with his fiancée?

“Peter?”

He inhaled deep, trying to wake up a little more before answering, and noticed the mask on his face. He tried to bring his hand up to remove it but it caught on a—a sling? “Wha-?”

A hand pressed his arm back to his chest and adjusted the mask. “Try to be still. And no touching that, too, Pete. Dr. Cho says you need this for a little bit longer, okay?”

“Mis-er Stark?” He finally managed to open his eyes and tried to understand the monitors and equipment in the low-lit room. “Wha’ happened?” He pushed out.

“We had another go at Thanos, Roo, and this time, we won.” Mr. Stark replied, but he looked so sad—

“Mis-er Stark?” Peter remembered the battle, remembered seeing Mr. Stark bruised and bleeding. “Are you o—“ Peter’s words cut off as a jolt of pain lanced through legs and he almost cried out. He caught himself though, and tried to keep going.

Mr. Stark stopped him. “Hey, I’m okay—just worried about you right now.” He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair, pressed his hand against his still fevered forehead, “I am so sorry that you have to go through this again, Spider-Man.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that, so he shrugged, wincing as he jostled his still bad shoulder. “It’s okay.” He mumbled. “Couldn’t be helped...”

Mr. Stark’s sadness morphed to tortured. “No, I guess it couldn’t...  I’m still so sorry.”

Peter could feel the exhaustion trying to claim him again, but he was missing something. “Uhhh- is somethin’ else goin’ on?” He looked between Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts, who had stepped back a few steps to give the two heroes a moment alone.

“Everything is fine, Peter.” Ms. Potts piped in, looking far less melancholy than Mr. Stark. “Tony is just upset that you’re having such a rough time of it, but all’s right in the end and...” she looked at her watch as she dragged out her answer then looked at Mr. Stark, “I believe we’ve probably delayed telling Dr. Cho that you’re awake long enough, so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to inform one of the nurses.” She smiled at the boy in the bed, rubbed at his calf affectionately as she walked by the bed, and then stepped out of the room.

It was getting difficult to keep his eyes open. “Mis-er Stark?”

The man leaned forward and pressed a tender, paternal kiss to Peter’s forehead. “Why don’t you rest for now, sweetheart. I’ll tell Dr. Cho that you fell back to sleep and we’ll talk when you’re more awake, okay?”

The smile Peter offered up was kind of goofy. “Okay—but...” Peter looked around the room. “Can you stay with me?”

Mr. Stark knew how much Peter hated the med bay— always stayed, “You know I will, Petey. I’ll always be there for you.”

Peter muttered a quick, “Thanks,” and closed his eyes.

If he’d been more alert, he would have noted the underlying tone that Mr. Stark had used... would have realized that the man was making a promise bigger than an evening.

But he didn’t, and it didn’t take long for the boy to give in to his exhaustion. He’d slept through the last stretch of his transformation the first time—and this time seemed no different, save for the injuries he’d suffered, and even they’d heal soon enough.

And as he slept, he missed the prayer that Mr. Stark offered to whatever deity would listen—that Peter would know just how much he meant it. He would be there for him, no matter what.

[free-pancakes]

Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: LeviHan Canon-Divergence fic Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price–particularly at Levi’s expense. Chapter 9/? Chapter 8 Chapter 7 Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

crossposted to ao3 here: link

notes: ahhh this one's long, I got carried away. but! hope you all like it! thanks for reading everyone, i think i'll be wrapping up this story in one more chapter after this!

CHAPTER 9

“Happy birthday, Levi!”

Kuchel gently shook the child awake, his big grey eyes blinking sleepily until he realized what day it was. He sat up quickly, a tiny smile on his face as Kuchel squeezed him tightly in a warm embrace.

“How old are you again, sweetie? I seemed to have lost count!”

Levi jumped up on his bed, fists pumped up in the air in triumph— “Mama, I’m 5 years old today!”

“Oh that’s right!” She said with a bright, yet tired grin. Stepping out into the kitchen, she had a small breakfast prepared for him, and reached to the countertop for a surprise. Levi burst out of their shared bedroom and sat at the table, waiting for his mother to sit with him. Next to him she placed down her cup of coffee.

Mouth full, Levi asks, “Aren’t you gonna eat with me, Mama?” Before he could try to give her half of what was on his plate, she whipped out a small cinnamon bun for him from behind her back.

His eyes sparkled as he saw the small pastry, something he had always dreamed of eating—one of the fancy-looking ones from the bakery window he would see on the other side of the underground.

“Once you finish all of your breakfast, you can have this, okay Levi?” He nodded earnestly, gobbling up the rest of his food before reaching for the bun. He tried to give her half, but she settled for a little bite, convinced by Levi’s little glare when she said she wouldn’t try any. Kuchel’s nearly empty stomach rumbled in hunger, but her heart was completely full as she watched her son eat a proper meal for once.

Luckily, she had the whole day free for him without having to leave him early for work. So, she took Levi for a walk to one place she had always wanted to take him—he was just old enough that he’d be able to keep this memory as he grew older, and she wanted him to remember and hold on to it for years to come.

They walked hand in hand until they reached a part of the underground that was very unfamiliar to Levi. Kuchel bent down to his height, and put her index finger up to her her lips, signaling him to keep quiet. Levi nodded, and followed her as she led him to a small ladder hidden amongst some abandoned buildings. When she reached the top, she reached down to hoist Levi up with her—and Levi covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. A tiny secluded area where some light from above ground escaped to shine on that very spot, there a bright patch of green grass with something quite beautiful in the middle...

Kuchel whispered as they crawled up to it together: “These are African violets, Levi,” she said with a smile as Levi’s eyes grew wide as he stared in awe. He had never seen real plants before, only in some of the few books he’s seen in his short 5 years of life. “They grow well in low light, like this spot right here!” She pointed to the grass and dirt underneath it— “Plants grow roots, which keep them grounded and so they can soak up water and nutrients to stay alive!”

“Wow,” Levi whispered as he looked, trying to imagine what the roots looked like below. “Mama, what happens if some of the roots ever get hurt?”

Kuchel tilted her head to the side, pleasantly surprised at her son’s curiosity. She chuckled, “Don’t worry Levi, even if some of the roots were to get severed or damaged, it’ll still continue living, and hopefully one day grow brand new roots in it’s place!”

Levi put one hand up to his forehead, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, thanks Mama, that’s good to know!” Kuchel smiled and ruffled his hair, and they both sat to stare at the violets together for a little while longer.

——

“Is the Captain finally asleep?”

“Yeah, I think so, Jean,” Armin answered. The two stood just outside the open door to the infirmary room Hange laid in, and saw Levi had fallen asleep sitting up in the chair they had placed in the room for him.

It had been an entire week since Hange was in this state, and it had felt like an eternity to all of them. But as much as it was bringing all of them down, they knew it was affecting Levi the most.

“I don’t think Captain Levi has slept all week… the bags under his eyes seemed a lot darker and more menacing than the usual.” “Connie, now’s not the time to joke around about this,” Jean retorted.

“I’m not joking! It’s the truth and you know it!”

Armin jumped in to separate the two. “Guys, calm down, you might wake him up—“

Out of nowhere, a sweet aroma lingered in the air, causing all three of them to stop, looking around for the source. Their eyes all fell upon Mikasa, holding a small paper box.

“I… got this from Niccolo’s bakery. I remember Hange mentioning to me once that he liked—“

“Oi, is that a cinnamon bun?”

All four of them jumped, startled from Levi suddenly joining them.

“Captain, I think maybe you should go back to sleep—“ Levi squeezed Mikasa’s shoulder and gently took the box from her hands.

“All rested. Connie, it’s your turn to watch over Hange,” Levi said as he walked away.

Once he disappeared around the corner, Connie, Armin, and Jean frowned at Mikasa.

“You knew this the whole time and didn’t tell us?? All we needed was a stupid cinnamon bun to get him off our tails all these years??”

“Ow!”

Mikasa smacked Connie upside the head, and she swiftly followed after Levi, leaving the three in her dust. They grumbled and shrugged it off, and Connie went in to look after Hange.

Levi sat outside looking out at the ocean water as the sun began to set, an empty box filled with crumbs in his lap. It had been a long time since he thought about his mother, the violets. He thought about how much she probably sacrificed just to get him that cinnamon bun for his birthday.

The memories gave him some relief for once—he was absolutely exhausted, a week without any sleep weighing down on his eyelids as he stood guard over Hange. For once, they had a win—they made it out alive. But now, he wasn’t so sure they really won, and his hopes were beginning to unravel.

He closed his eyes. “Just for a moment,” he thought. But before he knew it, he woke to the cover of night, and Mikasa sitting next to him.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Mikasa decided to break it. “Can I ask why this is your favorite?” She said as she pointed to the empty box in his hands. Before he would answer Mikasa, Levi looked up at the sky, staring at the stars shining above him.

——

Hange stared at the stars above her, wondering if the ones here in paths were the same ones Levi would be able to look up at right now.

“Come on, Zeke, there has to be another way!”

Zeke yelled back. “Hange, we’ve tried everything! We’ve been at this for who knows how long! It’s not like we could keep track of time here, for all we know, it’s been weeks!’

Hange felt anger surge within her heart.

“And what, so we stop trying??” She kicked, sending showers of sand flying towards Zeke. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed, drizzles of rain beginning to fall.

Hange held up her hand to catch raindrops. “See, we learned that this realm is clearly susceptible to emotions!” She spun a knife from her pocket, and slashed at the palm she held up. “And we cant turn into titans here, but we are still able to regenerate here…”

Steam arose from her wound, the skin of her palm gradually mending back together. Then she picked up a leaf, and as she rubbed it, it morphed into a baseball—“And that objects we find here can sometimes turn into something we most desire…”

She threw the ball at Zeke, who caught it carefully. As he looked down at it, it suddenly morphed into a baseball bat, smacking him right in the face.

Hange threw her head back and laughed, “…and we know that it doesn’t always do morph reliably!”

Zeke grumbled, rubbing his forehead right where the bat hit him. He couldn’t believe Hange still had this much energy. He was right at his limit of patience for all of this. In his opinion, it was all moot—they had tried so many different things, and the turnout was looking quite bleak.

“Hange, have you—“

“…And we found out that…”

“Hange.”

“AND we know that—“

Zeke stood up and grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at him.

“Hange, listen. Have you ever thought… that maybe… maybe you should just let this all, go?”

Hange’s bright expression slowly faded, a confused frown now left on her face.

“W-what?”

“I’m just saying, we’ve racked our brains for maybe a week. And maybe we should just focus on getting you back home and out of paths. We’re not even sure if we could do that, right?”

Hange turned away from Zeke, and remained silent.

Zeke spoke— “Just… maybe you should just let Levi go, Hange. He’s alive right, isn’t that all that should matter to you?”

Hange looked up towards the giant, glowing tree standing in the center of paths.

“Do you really think the tree doesn’t hold anything promising? I know you tried before I landed here, but…”

“Hange are you even listening to me??”

Zeke watched Hange’s back, her frame beginning to tremble. Of all the losses, the countless losses Levi and she had endured up until now—they deserved a win. And she wouldn’t give up on it. Ever. She balled both hands into fists, and stopped shaking, now still and firm in her decision.

“Zeke, defeat is all the Survey Corps has ever known.” She took a deep breath. “…But this time, I’m bringing us a win, whether you’re gonna help me or not.” She then made the trek towards the tree.

Zeke sat in the sand, dumbfounded. Hange was intriguing to him—he wondered how different things would have been if she ended up being a Marleyan Eldian instead one within the walls. Someone sharp like himself but… a lot more optimistic. That’s right. Might have done them all really well and maybe things would have turned out better for him and his comrades—none of them knew what they were missing here. He brushed both these pointless thoughts and the sand off himself, standing up to follow after her.

——

Mikasa spoke— “Just… maybe you should just let Hange go, Captain Levi. She’s alive right, isn’t that all that should matter to you?”

Levi kept walking as Mikasa followed behind him.

“Connie you can go, I’ll be here.” He saluted and hurried out as he saw Mikasa darting her eyes at Levi.

“Captain.” Levi didn’t answer and resumed his post next to Hange.

“Captain Levi, did… did you hear me?”

Levi remained seated, and did not look up towards Mikasa as he spoke: “You remember what Hange said, that day? In Shiganshina?” He took a quick pause. “…That ever since we joined the Survey Corps, every day has brought a new farewell?”

Mikasa’s heart dropped heavily at the memory, but she nodded.

“Well, I’m not ready to say farewell just yet.” Levi said with confidence. He had been thinking all this time that he’d pay the price of Hange being afraid of him, that he’d be happy if she was simply alive. Well, he knew in his heart that Hange wouldn’t be happy this way.

And he wouldn’t either.

So, he was putting his trust in her. If anyone could figure it out, it’d be Hange—and they deserved a win.

Levi took Hange’s hand in his, and brought it near his lips.

“I told Mikasa today about my 5th birthday. My mother, the violets… you remember right?”

He kissed her hand. He remembered when Hange asked him to take her the minute she told her—they spent the whole day looking for it, and luckily, they did find it. And they were still growing there after all this time.

“They grow well in low light…”

He laid his head on the bed next to her, yawning.

“…And even if a small section of roots get damaged, the flowers will still grow happily. And maybe someday, brand new roots can grow back in its place…”

Stealing a glance upwards towards Hange’s face, he swore he saw her smile before he drifted off to sleep.

——

Zeke stood in front of the giant tree with Hange. Her brows were furrowed, deep in thought.

“Hange, what’re you thinking?”

She swung her head back at Zeke, suddenly speaking a mile a minute. “Have you thought about how almost every curious thing in this realm has been activated by some kind of strong emotion? Feeling? Attachment??” She lowered her head, her fingers rubbing her chin, her eyes looking up in thought. “Well, not sure if exactly this, but you know I guess attachment applies to simply having strong feelings and—“

“Hange, Hange, slow down. What exactly are you implying?”

Hange was no longer talking, and now walking up to the tree.

“Strong feelings… a memory maybe…”

She felt drawn to it, and began reaching her hand up to the tree trunk, focusing on one of the happiest memories she had stored in her beautiful mind.

“Hange be careful! None of us has ever touched—“

Hange closed her eyes, focusing on the memory with a smile on her face, and gently placed her fingers over the bark burning a bright white light. Suddenly, yellow light began traveling between the bark’s crevices and nooks, slowly traveling to light up a whole section of the tree. A warm yellow glow covering only one section of branches to the top and going back down to where the visible portions of the tree ended in the sand.

The two looked in awe—it was breathtakingly beautiful.

“Why do you think—“ Zeke started, but simply couldn’t even finish his sentence in his shock.

Hange’s mind began racing, hypothesizing everything she could about what this might have meant, but out of nowhere, she felt like her heart stopped for a second, and it was as though she could hear Levi’s voice.

And her mind quieted, one particular memory coming to mind. She smiled and closed her eyes.

“Aw Levi…” she breathed out. “Thanks for reminding me of that memory…”

“Did you say something?” Zeke asked, only to find Hange shoot her head up, her eyes wild.

“Wait!” Hange yelled.

Was this the answer?

“The roots! Zeke!”

With a whooshing noise, the baseball bat from earlier suddenly morphed into a shovel. Hange began digging impatiently with her hands, pushing sand away to follow the portion of the tree lit with a yellow glow, following it down deep to reveal its roots.

Zeke was confused, but didn’t question her determination. He ran to grab the shovel and began to dig alongside her.

They dug for what felt like hours, and finally collapsed breathing heavily, arms aching, sweat dripping from their foreheads. Most of the root formation had been uncovered, still continuing to give off an inviting, warm, yellow glow.

They looked at the extensive network beneath them. Now curious, Zeke decided to reach out and touch a portion of the roots. When his fingers made contact, before his eyes flashed a memory.

He gasped and fell backwards.

“What! What’s wrong??” Hange rushed to Zeke’s side.

“It’s… Mr. Ksaver.”

Hange tilted her head to the side. “Mr. who?”

“I—“

Zeke paused, thinking. It was Mr. Ksaver’s memory of them playing catch, not his own. It wasn’t from his viewpoint so…

He followed the network and then touched a place a bit further down. He watched a memory, and did the same, touching yet another part farther down the line.

“Hange…”

She looked at him earnestly.

“I think… these are beast titan memories right here. I think, they may be lifetime memories of shifters….”

Hange’s jaw dropped. Zeke paused—one more to confirm his suspicions.

He reached, but stopped. He decided to take Hange’s hand.

“Let’s look together, okay?”

Both of them reached their hands towards the farthest end of the root network. “This would theoretically be your body’s most recent memory,” Zeke announced, raising an eyebrow at Hange.

Hange nodded back at him, ready to see.

Together, they touched the root end—they saw Hange’s body laying completely still and unconscious on an infirmary bed. Levi was there, asleep while holding her hand with his head lying on the bed next to her, an empty pastry box sitting on the table next to him, Mikasa sitting nearby, finishing paperwork in the dim lamp light.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Letting Go.”

Wrote this today, hope you like it, and hope you all have a great day :)

“We have to take him to a hospital.”

His hearing echoed, his ears rang, and his body felt cold and numb. He hurt all over.

“No! That's the last thing he needs right now.”

“Not to be rude but, are you stupid! The last tie i checked, I am the only one here with a Doctorate in actual doctoring.

The world swirled slowly to the left and then to the right.

“Last time I checked I’ve been in his shoes before. You have any idea what they are going to do, they are going to assume he jumped off that bridge on purpose. They are going to strap him down, which is going to make things worse, they are going to bring in psych, who are then going to determine that he should be locked down. That is the last thing this man needs right now, and believe me I have been in his shoes.” he faded out and then back in again.

“Than what do you suggest.”

“You’re a doctor aren’t you, so as long as we have you, he is going to be fine. Let's just get him back to my hotel, but I am telling you the last thing he needs is a noisy smelly hospital room.”

“And how are we going to get him back?”

He faded back in and back out again, “I can carry him.”

“He weights over two hundred pounds.” “Than I will take lots of breaks.”

He faded out again, this time for a long while, waking up only briefly an unknown time later. He was lying, uncomfortably over someone else’s shoulder and staring at the ground as it passed by below him. Little streaks of light dotted his vision from the pain, and he felt back unconscious before he could really understand what was going on.

***

Kier Lindsay stared down at the young man, watching as the strange little alien creature got to work. He had once heard that multitasking was pretty much impossible for humans as the brain was too interconnected to allow for it, but his creature didn’t seem to have any problems. All four of its arms seemed to work independently of each other as it stitched the unconscious man back into one piece. Looking him over the doctor had determined that he had managed to fracture his good leg and some of the bones in his right arm and side, but otherwise he was less injured than they had hoped. 

Then again this was without considering the psychological duress he might be under at the moment.

He grimaced thinking about it.

He had been there before, he had been there and he had hurt a lot of people in the process.

He continued to watch as the alien stitched the other man up with great precision…

Man? 

Honestly he wasn’t much more than a kid, his face was still smooth, unscared by time . Not a hint of white showed in his blond hair, and as he slept, the lines of his face were soft enough that Kier couldn’t shake the feeling that he WAS nothing more than a child.

A child who had had responsibility placed on him far to soon.

To be only in you late twenties and have command of an entire galactic armada.

That was too much to ask for anyone, much less someone like him. Kier couldn’t shake the thoughts as he stared down thinking about how despite technically being an adult for a long enough time, he doubted this man had ever been given a chance to grow up, at least not in the right ways. Turned to the academy at age fourteen, he had been doing adult jobs for longer than most people. He had been thrown into an environment where intelligence and performance mattered but social opportunities were sort of lacking, and then to be thrown right onto the enterprise and into war before trying to recover and immediately turning back to the one group of people that had failed him so badly…..

Adam vir was just a kid, an overly optimistic too trusting kid who had been taken advantage of by the system time and time again. He was like a golden retriever hurt by his master but still loyal enough to come crawling back.

It almost made him sick to watch, but he knew just by looking at him that he would never consider leaving. 

Even if it were for his health.

Kier sighed and sat down by the bed staring at the boy with his chin cupped in one hand.

He had a son about Adam Vir’s age, a boy that was just beginning to pull his life together into some semblance of controlled. It had taken him a lot of mistakes and a lot of experience to figure out who he was, and he ached for the realisation that this man probably never got that.

He knew the feeling all too well.

He shook himself a little, dad mode was something you couldn’t really just turn off, at least not in his case. If there were people younger than him, he felt the automatic obligation to adopt them whether they wanted it or not.

Young people deserved guidance from someone who was older and the more people to do it the better. Lindsay hadn’t seen any of Adam’s family members at the trial, which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he also got the impression that maybe the had avoided telling them on purpose, which was another red flag he was going to have to discuss with the boy woke up.

If he woke up.

***

He woke up some time later, though he couldn’t have guessed what time. The room was dark aside from the blue light of the TV. A little bit of natural light filtered in from the window, but rain clouds dotted blanketed the sky above. Rain pattered against the window in sheets obscuring the city landscape.

He groaned and tilted his head to the side.

A soft whimper, and something warm and wet ran over the back of his hand.

He tilted his head to the side.

The room was small, only big enough for a queen sized bed, a tv and a small desk. There was adoor to a small bathroom right next to a door that likely lead out into the hallway. The hotel room was small, but clean.

And it wasn’t his.

He turned his head a little further, gritting his teeth against the pain as his bleary eyes fell on the silhouette of a man sitting at the end of the bed. He was slightly hunched forward one hand resting on his knee as he flipped through the channels.

“Adam, can you hear me.’

He turned his head a little further to the right, to where Kril was standing beside him, a look of concern on his face.

The silhouette turned to face him, no more than a balck blob against the light. It was impossible to make out his face.

“Where am I? He croaked

The man stood and stepped forward, stepping out of the way of the TV and allowing some light to fall on the side of his face, “My hotel room, sorry about how cramped it is, but until yesterday I was kind of short on cash.”

Adam blinked, the cogs in his brain grinding to a slow start as he stared at the man’s face, which was familiar but he just couldn’t…

“Cigarette.”

It was the first word his brain could think of to describe the man when he finally recognised him, and in his goggy state it was the only thing he could think of, “Where do you even buy those these days.”

“Lets just say if I could quit my smoking habit than maybe I wouldn’t be so short of cash…. Anyway, how are you feeling.”

“Like shit…. What…. What happened.”

The other man sighed and pulled up the chair from the desk, sitting next to him, “You must have had a pretty bad PTSD attack. Looks like you jumped off an overpass and then rad headfirst into a brick wall.”

He grunted, “that explains a lot I guess….” he paused, “I thought…. I thought I was doing fine. I felt…. Fine and now…” A hand rested on his shoulder, “I know, I understand.”

Adam blinked, squinting at him slightly in the darkness, “Who are you/”

“The name is Kier but most of my friends call me Lindsay. I don’t know why, guess our days in the army just sort of rubbed off on us, now we only refer to people by their last names really.”

“What were you doing at the trial.”

The man smiled a little sadly, “Watching some assholes git their comeuppance, oh, and being awarded about five million dollars compensation.”

It took Adam even longer to digest that, “You….. you’re Steel eye-” The last two words came out as a squeak.”

Lindsay turned on the light by the bed, bathing them both in a warm yellow glow. Now that Adam could get a good look at him, he saw an older man probably in his late forties or early fifties. His hair was steel grey but well groomed, and he had the body of a man half his age. He wore only a tattered flannel rolled up to the sleeves and a white T-shirt. The back and sides of his arms were dotted with familiar circular scars  all with a silver sort of sheen.

And, surprisingly, little silver dots….

Iron eye implants.

He turned his head to stare up at him, “You…. you are one of the five.”

“Yep, we never met during the war but I’ve been watching your career on the news for some time now. Some real impressive stuff kid.” he smiled, smiled and easy smile of someone who actually meant it.

Adam felt a sudden pang of guilt and shame.

For a moment he couldn’t figure out what it had stemmed from, until he realised. This man seemed fine, and here he was a complete wreck.

“How are you….. Ok after all that?” he wondered almost bitterly.

Lindsay shook his head, “Don’t start with that. I've jumped from one war to another my entire life. I have more experience than you.”

Adam went quiet, “So you were fine…. After steel eye.”

The man snorted, “No… no no, not even close.”

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

The man shrugged, “Lost both my legs in the war, one above the knee and one below. When I got home my family didn’t have enough money to get me good prosthetics, so I was pretty much wheelchair bound for a year or so.” he sighed, “I came back a shell of a man to a family who really needed a father. It was so bad for a time, everyday I thought about just…. Not being there anymore. I didn’t  talk to my wife, I didn’t talk to my kids, and when I did speak I was angry all the time or apathetic.” His shoulders slumped, “For a time, I didn’t have much of a relationship with my middle daughter or my oldest son. I had drug withdrawals so bad I even wheeled myself halfway across town to try and find something…. Heroin maybe, anything that might take the edge off,” He snorted sadly, “I see it as a blessing now that no one would sell to me. I went over the edge drinking, and chain smoking and trying to bum pills off of any doctor I could find. Luckily with regulations on pills these days, I wasn’t given any.”

Adam felt his mouth go dry, “That bad.”

He nodded, “Woke up screaming most nights because of the dreams. For a while my kids moved out of the house because my wife was scared for thor safety.” He held up a hand, “Even during that time I would never have hit them intentionally, but my dreams were getting so bad that I would wake up flailing, and I would jump at the smallest sound. Anything could set me off.”

He sighed sadly, “But my wife bless her soul, is the strongest woman I know.” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a photograph showing it to Adam with a look of pride so profound  it made even Adam’s heart ache.

What he saw was a nice family. Two younger kids, a teenage boy, and a woman.

She had short black hair spiked up and dark lipstick on, and the look on her face was indicative of someone full of mischievous humor.

“My angel. She stayed by me even though she should have left. I tried to get her to leave, even made my behavior worse at one point to drive her off. She SHOULD have left me, but she didn’t. I had the mot amazing support system. She held me from falling any further into it, and my little girl, my little girl Bethany, that little girl pulled me out by my hair and dragged me back to reality. She was too young to realise how horrible I was being, and she just thought I was sick. No matter how much my wife tried to keep hr away from me, she always came to see me somehow, with ‘medicine’.” 

He smiled, “Generally it was just a tube of baby M&Ms. I refused at first, but she insisted, and the one day I decided to take them just to quiet her down, she told me that I would be all better.”

He waited with pent up breath.

“That night, I slept without nightmares…. The placebo effect is a hell of a thing if a child can convince a grown ass man that M&Ms ar medicine. I woke up and my head had never been so clear in my entire life. I saw what I was doing to them, and to my little girl and to my other kids…. I have never cried that hard in my entire life, but it was just what I needed. Some emotion to break the cycle of anger and apathy. It wasn’t an easy road from there, but I finally got smart and started listening to my wife. Somehow managed to get my kids to forgive me, and from there we worked as a team to get me back on my feet.” he patted the cigarette in his pocket, “This is what remains from those days…. Can’t seem to quit, but working on it.”

Adam was quiet for some time, 

“It was that hard on your family.”

“It was. I am glad they stayed but at the same time I wish they hadn’t been so hurt by me.

He sighed and leaned his head back, “I don’t think that is possible for me.”

A hand turned to rest down on his shoulder, “I know it sounds hard right now but…. I have a theory if you want to hear it.”

He sighed, “Shoot, it's not like I have any other bright ideas.”

“What are you?”

“What do you mean.”

“I mean when all the trappings are stripped away from you, your job and your title…. What makes you…. You.”

He paused for a moment, opened his mouth and then closed it, “I…. Im a….I….” The other man waited, his eyes sad.

The only things Adam could think of were related to his job.

When he was silent for some minutes, the man patted his arm, “All these years of service and you've never taken time to construct a framework for yourself that can survive outside of your job. If you keep defining yourself by what you do and how well you preform than you aren’t going to last. You constantly do everything for everyone else, but why not think about doing something for yourself for once, be completely selfish. Don’t go on vacation because, I bet this will calm me down and make me a better leader when I return, go on vacation because you bloody well want to job be damned.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest, but the man silenced him.

“Even if you love your job, you need breaks from it. You need to set the line to where your job ends and you begin, otherwise you won’t have a personality left when you are done. Take some time to fix YOU before lending yourself to everyone else.”

He rested his head back, “That sounds….. Difficult.”

The man patted him on the arm, “You’ve proven you can do hard things, now is just the time to do another hard thing.”

Adam nodded but inside his head he was beginning to feel a little hopeless. He knew that Lindsay was right. He knew that he was messed up, and everything he had done up to this point was just going to be a bandage. 

And until he was fixed.

He was going to have to give up a few things.

He hated the idea of hurting people like Lindsay had described, so…. So that meant doing something that he wasn’t going to like.

“Do you…. Do you mind if I…. speak with you…. On occasion.”

The man smiled, “I already put my number in your phone if you need me. I work law enforcement now so I might be busy, but if you need my help Ill do my best.”

***

He didn’t want the court’s blood money. He would have tossed it away if he could, but he knew that was just his confused mind talking. Money was money, so he mostly gave it away. Gave it away to his parents for their retirement, and to his brothers and sisters for their kids college funds. He gave some to his brother to get him a better house in a new area, but he kept some for himself. It would have been irresponsible not to buy himself a house, to get himself a place away from his job and the ship.

He didn’t know where to buy it at first thinking that earth was too mundane but anything further out was too far removed. So, he bought a little private property on the moon. It cost a shit ton of money but, he had that in spades now. He only told his family about it.

They weren’t exactly happy with them when he finally told them where he had been. They had wanted to be there to support him, but he couldn’t find t in himself to feel bad that they hadn’t see the pictures and the videos he had been forced to see. He apologized and promised he would do better in the future.

He felt disconnected from himself.

Out of touch.

The crew of the Omen was just as angry with him, perhaps even more so than his family.. The intervening days that led him back to his ship feeling detached was like…. Some sort of horrible dream. He felt like he was slipping backward down a slippery slope and watching the light fade away from him. 

He was scrambling on the rocks but couldn’t find purchase.

Perhaps it was the idea of what he had to do next that hurt  him so much. Hurt him so much that he didn’t want to think about it, but he knew he had to. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. It was the only way he was going to be able to feel ok about himself, about fixing himself.

Maybe things would change when he finally came back.

Maybe when he recovered, he could change what he was about to do.

And maybe he was about to ruin it forever.

He walked down the hallway of the engineering corridor despondent, like he was watching himself in third person.

He reached out a hand that didn’t feel like his and knocked on the wall of the ship.

A familiar face turned to look at him from her workspace in the dark. Sunny stood and paused to look at him, “Adam, are you alright.”

“Sunny…. We…. need to talk.”

She paused eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Are you ok.” she repeated.

He walked in taking a seat on her work bench and staring down at his hands.

“Is this about, the trial….. I mean yes I am a little mad that you didn’t tell me. Is it because I’m a Drev, is it because it would have looked bad. I know I don’t understand human politics, but maybe….”

He held up a hand, and she grew quiet.

He sat for a long moment fighting himself on the inside,and then forcing himself to look up at her. He could feel hot tears prickling at the back of his eyes though, for some reason he couldn’t get them to fall.

She deserved that he at least LOOK at her.

He felt sick.

He just wanted to throw up. 

This…. This was the hardest thing he had ever done. 

“Sunny…. I… while I was away, at the trial.”

She stared at him slow horror and confusion passing across her face.

“Well, I learned some things about myself. Number one being that, I….. I never recovered from what happened to me. From Steel eye and the war. Ive been bandaging it up for the past few years assuming that I can fix it, but at this point…. I wonder if I ever will.” He took a deep breath and locked eyes with her, “I’m broken, and until I can fix myself…. I think its best if-”

“No, no no no that's not how this works.”

He continued speaking, “I think it's best if we take a break.”

“NO!”

“Sunny I love you but I. I am not Capable of being what you need or deserve.” he stood reaching a hand forward, “I can’t subject you to myself like that.”

She jerked away from his hand, “that should be MY decision it would be OUR decision.”

“Sunny please…. I am so sorry.”

“On my planet, battle pairs fight WITH each other no matter how hard the battle is.”

His voice shook timorous and fading fast, “And on my planet, sometimes loving someone means letting them go.”

[stxphxn-strange]

on the eve

a/n: not me projecting onto college au!tony again !! oh btw this fic takes place at least a year before moments

Anthony was in the kitchen, engaged in a lengthy debate with himself about whether he wanted coffee or hot chocolate and listening to one of his many morning playlists. It felt weird that it was December 24th and he wasn’t listening to Christmas music, weird that he wanted to be comforted by the bitterness of coffee instead of the sweetness of cocoa. He also didn’t care what he drank this morning, because it didn’t feel like Christmas and he didn’t want to listen to Christmas carols. He hadn’t wanted to all month.

The realist in Anthony doubted he’d catch the holiday spirit now. How could he, if he was looking forward to the end of the holiday season on Christmas Eve? This used to be one of his favorite days of the year, one of his favorite times of the year, but it had lost its luster.

He was too tired for Christmas miracles.

Anthony knew himself. He knew he’d been growing disillusioned with the holidays, each year his excitement waning. This year it felt as if his energy hit a new low and would never return again. He couldn’t bring his energy up, and he was too tired to even fake a smile. So he made his coffee and went back to his room, sitting up in bed as Stephen slept.

It wasn’t much longer when Stephen woke up, maybe only an hour had passed. Anthony spent that time thinking and staring out the window, almost instinctively playing with his boyfriend’s hair as he did so.

“People watching?” Stephen asked as he began to stir. He leaned into Anthony’s caresses and looked adoringly at him. “You’re so pretty.”

Anthony scoffed. “Says the prettiest person I know.”

Stephen sat up to face him. “Oh shush. How long have you been up?”

“I think a couple hours,” Anthony said. He shrugged, looking sharply and suddenly at the blanket that was tossed to the side in the middle of the night.

“What’s wrong?” Stephen asked. He was attune to even the smallest changes in Anthony’s demeanor. It was clear that something was on his mind, and it wasn’t the blanket.

Anthony shrugged again, feeling a bit like a petulant child as he leaned to rest his head on Stephen’s shoulder. There was so much in his head, so much stress and fatigue and so many other emotions, but it all caused or derived from one thing. “Does it feel like the holidays to you? Like I know it’s Christmas Eve and everything, but... something doesn’t feel right. I don’t feel right.”

Stephen frowned in thought, stroking Anthony’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “What does it feel like?”

“Like a grey sky, almost. There are heavy clouds, and it’s not raining yet but the clouds are tired of holding the rain away from the ground. The sky is still going to be grey, but it’s going to rain sooner or later,” Anthony replied, not entirely sure if his description made any sense. “The ground is going to get all wet, the roads are going to be slick and plants are going to be overwatered. Then the clouds will disappear, feeling bad for the damage they’ve caused, but you’ll still be able to feel their weakness in the air. The sky will still be grey, and everyone around will have to deal with the rain ruining their mood and bringing them down. The clouds don’t deal with their problems, they just shove them onto other people and hide.”

Stephen didn’t say anything, glancing at his boyfriend with loving, understanding eyes.

“I feel like a storm cloud,” Anthony continued. “But not one that’s beautiful, or not one that comes to the rescue after a town hasn’t seen rain for awhile. I just feel like I’m not hiding how I feel enough, so I’m going to bring everyone down and ruin the holiday. I kind of want the next few days to just be over so I don’t have to pretend like I’m happy, but I feel selfish for thinking that.”

Stephen hummed, gently kissing Anthony’s hair. “You’re not selfish in general, but especially not for feeling. Most people might be feeling one thing or showing one emotion because it’s right for them, not the standard of how you should be feeling. It’s okay to not be happy, it’s okay to be upset or however you feel. And I know you know all of these things, but it never hurts to remind you.”

Anthony nodded, his head still resting against Stephen’s shoulder. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll validate you anytime you need Ant,” Stephen assured him, kissing him again.

Anthony was going to say something about how he was too stubborn to be kind to himself and didn’t deserve validation, but in the moment he decided against it. He snuggled closer to Stephen, allowing himself to be cared for in his exhausted state. It was awhile before he spoke up again. “Not sure I’ll be any fun, but if you still want company while you finish gift wrapping—”

“Yes please,” Stephen cut him off. “I don’t care what mood you’re in, I don’t think I’d ever not want your company.”

Anthony smiled, a slight blush on his face as he kissed Stephen. “We could stay in bed for a bit longer before wrapping?”

“We could... but only because I’m cold and I don’t feel like getting up yet,” Stephen replied. He pretended like was reluctant to stay in bed, but Anthony saw through him.

“If you’re still cold we can always sit by the fireplace later,” Anthony suggested.

“I doubt I’ll need it, you’re the best at keeping me warm,” Stephen murmured.

Anthony laughed and rolled his eyes. “That was, in the best way, revoltingly sweet.”

“Good.”

tags: @stark-strange-love2 @h3mmy @maya-custodios-dionach @thespacecryptid @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @doctorstephenvincentstarkstrange @kiwidino @chocopiggy @ocforeverything

[untaemedqueen]

SandB Series

Alpha Werewolf!Taehyung x Mate!Reader

Chapter 8.

Genre: Some Fluff

The trip from your forest home to the dock to get on the boat was roughly around four hours but it felt like one hundred with the wolves. Like a never ending road trip that made you want to throw yourself out of the car and just say fuck it, goodbye. You've always hated being in a car for long periods of time, hence why you never went on college camping trips even when Namjoon and Namhyuk begged you to go.

In this Audi, as spacious as it was, you still felt suffocated. Something Taehyung had become aware of within the first hour, he could smell the annoyance and nervousness radiating off of you. Once his hand was snugly intertwined with yours, he never let it go. Jeongguk, Jimin and Hoseok had taken up the spaces in the back with each pup they protect. Although, putting those three together, it was like a laughter bomb was thrown into the back of the car. They were voraciously loud, and yet, they never woke up a single pup as if the babies were comfortable with the horrendously loud noise. 

Your attention would sometimes fall to your mate if you weren't staring at the scenery out the window of fast moving trees and waterways. Taehyung in the driver's seat, laughing at something one of the guys had said or singing along to the music on the radio made him seem so different. You've always just seen the Alpha in him, always protective and iron willed. The image of your man, his hand thrown casually up on the steering wheel; silver mullet blowing in the breeze, it was a beautiful sight to take in. He would look over at you when the car stopped from time to time. Squeezing your hand or kissing the back of your hand, trying to reassure you that everything was going to be just fine and you were grateful for that. 

The other boys made up for it in the back too. Every so often, stopping their chatter to mewl at something their pup was in the car seat next to them."Noona! Noona! Look! Hyera is gripping my finger!" You could feel the love for the new youngest pack members and it made your heart sing.

"Tae. You gotta pull over man." Hoseok murmured from the back, your mates eyes flickering up to the rear view mirror. "What's wrong?"

"Oh fuck." Jimin whispers before putting his face mask over his nose. "Rina shit, a lot."

The laughter that sputtered from both you and your mate had the boys in the back stiffening. Your body clung to his as you both wracked with giggles. Taehyung's eyes even began to water from the laughter as he pulled over to the service road. He wipes his eyes with his shirt before turning off the car and hopping out. You opened your door finally, happy to be able to stretch and the sight that greets you is a welcome one. Tae opens up the car door before pulling out his second born daughter. He picks her up before sniffing her back and grimacing, his face scrunches up eyebrows wrinkling before looking around to a picnic table closeby. "Guk, bring me the diaper bag, please."

You lean against the car, arms folding as you watch your mate press sloppy kisses to his daughter's cheek. "Did my Rina eat so well? Hmm? Thanks to mommy?" Your heart feels light as Jeongguk jumps out of the car to attend to his Alpha. You can hear Taehyung whispering sweet nothings to your daughter as she writhes around in his arms. The sky catches your attention, perfectly cerulean with small wisps of grey clouds coming in to litter the Earth with rain. It’s with a sigh as you watch your mate change your daughter that you realize how perfect your life has become. All from a simple run in at a park.

���I can’t believe we’re going home.” You hear Jimin mutter as he rubs Baekhyeon’s chest. Your head turns to him as you catch the dock up ahead. “You’re from Summit?” 

Everyone in the car nods before your best friend speaks up, “You remember when we first met and I told you that we were chaebols?” You somewhat recall the drunken night at the forest party when you were first introduced to all of the wolves. 

“What do you do?” You ask gaining that liquid courage you’re happy to have with you at the moment. 

“I’m also a college student, all of my friends are. We don’t really need to go to college but it’s fun.” He says before downing his cup of his alcohol in one shot. 

“You don’t need to go to college?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not really. We have to take over our parent’s companies.” Jimin says with a shrug. 

“You’re a chaebol?” You ask fingering at the plastic lip of your cup. Jimin rolls his eyes at the word.

“Yeah, I guess. I hate that word.” He says before waving at incoming figures. 

 You nod to your best friend as your arms dangle over the passenger’s seat. Jimin leans back in his seat before shrugging, “The ‘companies’ that I was talking about are all in Summit. We come from High Houses, all blue blood wolves through and through. All our families are prime members of the FWWA and we’ll take their places someday.”

You can’t help but think of Taehyung, his parents were in this Lunaris Chamber. Would he even have a place to stay? Out of the corner of your eye you can see your mate smirk and you turn your attention to him.

“I can hear your thoughts baby, don’t forget that. Even if it’s random, sometimes your mind is screaming,” You blanch at his words, a rosy tint gracing your cheeks as you clear your throat, “My aunt is the head chairman of the FWWA. We’ll be very welcome.”

“He’s like royalty.” Jeongguk whispers enthusiastically and you find yourself raising an eyebrow. Royalty? Why have you never known this before?

“Because it wasn’t important.” Taehyung mutters to you as you pull up to the dock, “Stop doing that, stop reading my thoughts.” 

You shove his shoulder as he chuckles. He lowers his window before hooking his hand behind your neck and pulling your body closer to his. His lips find your forehead before connecting his forehead to yours. “Stop thinking so loud then.”

It was on the boat that you got the rundown of Summit and everything it entails. You can’t say that you were nervous to get there once learning that Alpha wolves don’t find their mates in humans almost ever and the wolves in Summit might see your children as tainted blood. 

Taehyung kicks back his driver's seat as you sail toward Jeju island, his seat presses against Jimin’s legs and he growls gently at the Alpha who only smirks before closing his eyes. “Y/N, when you get there, just be yourself. Be bold and strong like always and no one will fuck with you.”

You turn to Hoseok who looks at you sternly which is a vast contrast of how he normally is. You swallow thickly before nodding and looking at Taehyung who, even with his eyes closed holds up his hand for you to take it. “What else do I have to know about this place? I mean, okay, I know about this Lunaris Chamber and it was opened releasing really dangerous peopl-”

“They aren’t people, they aren’t wolves. They’re fucking mongrels.” Taehyung cuts you off with a whisper before opening one eye, his blue irises steeled over with venomous grit. You nod slowly rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand before continuing, “Okay, mongrels. Got it. Your families are super important. What else?” 

“Once we get to High Ground, our family neighborhood. You sit your pretty little ass in that house for protection until all of the mongrels are put back in their pretty little cage.” Taehyung mumbles before the boat horn sounds off. 

“Oh, and try not to eat anything out of the Amaranth Forest.” Hoseok pipes up from the back of the car before Jeongguk hands you your daughter for feeding time.

“Amaranth Forest...Got it.”

The drive from the Jeju Island dock to where you were now was relatively short, only about a half an hours drive to this forest tree line. The other Audi pulls up beside yours and you look at Seokjin in the driver’s seat who stares ahead. The car was riddled with tension, no one made a sound for the last fifteen minutes. You can tell Taehyung is strung up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall as he looks over at you. “Take a deep breath and hold it. You might feel sick once we enter.” 

You look out at the trees in front of you before raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to drive into those trees?” 

“They aren’t actually trees. It’s a barrier of fae magic. You’ll see. Take a deep breath, baby.” You do as told, filling your lungs up with oxygen, your cheeks puffing up making your mate wrinkle his nose. “Hand.”

Your hand goes into his before he revs the car engine loudly. “We’re home.” Jeongguk’s voice comes above a whisper before Taehyung is zooming into the trees, your eyes close as an immediate reaction and your stomach hitches within your body as you whimper. Your body tingles before going numb and you feel your mind reel before snapping back into place. The pups let out a short whinge before being comforted by their protectors and you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut tighter, the edges crinkling deeper as your mate grips your hand.

“You can open your eyes, my love.”

“Wah.” Is the first thing you mumble as your eyes open. This was a town nestled in a bunch of trees, although now seeing it you’re well aware that there was not a tree in sight. It was a civilization hidden away from human eyes. Taehyung pulls your face to look at him quickly and the first thing you do is realize just how handsome he is. Your body feels alive at his touch, his fingers sending jolts of what feels like electrical currents over your skin. Your heart rate picks up and all sense has been thrown from your mind. “She’s got it.” Hoseok whispers with a laugh. You feel your loins begin to coil, arms shooting up to your mates before trying to cross the middle console.

Your fiance’s face radiates a certain glow that entices you towards him. He looks practically ethereal as your body begins to warm within the glow. “Baby. Hey, baby.” Taehyung whispers gently as your body scrambles to jump on him. “Fuck you’re so hot.” 

He chuckles gently before pushing you off of him as you lick your lips. His shove is ignored by you as your body begins to move towards him on its own. Your mind screams out with lust, eyelids drooping as you go to cross the console once more. “I love you.”

His smile is breathtaking, one that makes you want to jump his bones even more as he pushes against your shoulders with an iota of his strength. “I love you too, baby girl. Jeongguk, hold her to the chair.” You gasp gently as hands grab at your arms before pressing you into your seat. Jimin’s hand shields your face from looking at your mates and within seconds you feel your mind relaxing. You almost feel drowsy as your stomach uncoils, head sluggishly lolling to the side.

“Well, now we know for absolute certainty that she was made for him.” Jimin jeers, the laughter that emits through the car makes your eyebrows wrinkle. Trying to jump his bones feels almost as if it’s a distant memory now as you look at the buildings that begin to pass as Taehyung continues to drive. 

This civilization is absolutely stunning, buildings made out of shiny grey material, streaks and hard edges define each stone and you can’t help but think that you’ve never seen this material before. “What is it?” You ask Jeongguk as his chin hooks over your shoulder keeping you pinned to the passenger seat. “Wolframite. It was found here and it’s our biggest export.” 

The pun doesn’t go unnoticed and you snort before the car stops short. Your attention is drawn to a woman with almost iridescent skin and purple eyes. Her attention turns to you and you gasp at the beauty of her outfit. It looks as if she is almost wearing nothing but a sheen wrap of silk around her body. Jewels cascade from her white hair down around her shielding her nipples from view. Her purple eyes narrow at the car before bowing her head. “One of the fae.” Taehyung notifies you, the sound of his voice makes your heart pick up. Your eyes hooding over before you try to scramble out of Guk’s touch.

“Don’t speak, it’ll drive her insane.” Hoseok chides the Alpha only to be greeted with a growl.  “It’s at least nice to know that she wants more babies, hmm?” 

His voice is deep, bass dropping an octave as he teases you and you struggle against the youngests grip as he tries to whisper calmly into your ear, your head thrashes wildly and you feel your mind become hooded once more. You could feel your gut twirling and coiling with every word uttered from your mates lips. “Wouldn’t you like that, baby? Get pregnant with more pups already?” You whine loudly and he laughs gently before continuing to drive. 

The roads are dirt, there doesn’t seem to be anything incredibly industrial about this place. It was perfect and you find yourself wondering in your sluggish state why they would have left it in the first place. “That’s the Amaranth Forest, don’t wander in alone. Fae are ruthless creatures that love to pick fun with others.” It wasn’t a forest per se, more like a vineyard that seems to lead to a flower garden. There was a statue in the middle surrounded by a fountain and the water within it was a shade of light purple. It looks inviting and you find yourself wanting to shove open the car door and enter it. Jeongguk holds you down as you shift towards the door before whining again.

“Man, she is just so susceptible.” Your best friend giggles and Taehyung pushes his hands out of the way. “Look at me.” 

Your head snaps to his and you lick your lips before struggling against the youngest. “Her eyes are gold.” Your hand reaches up to touch him and he smiles gently at you. His hand caresses your cheek before winking and you feel a fresh wave of arousal sweep over you before leaning over and biting Jeongguk’s arm. 

“Ow! Noona!” His arms recoil from you in pain and you jump over the console. Mind somewhere else as you kiss over Taehyung’s jaw, he hums gently before putting his hands on your sides. “I know. I know. I love you, too.” 

You straddle him, fingers carding through his silver hair as your teeth nibble along the skin of his neck. You can feel his chest rumble gently before putting both hands on your face and kissing you gently. “I know, but you gotta stay still baby. You’re too worked up.” 

You pout against him, hand reaching down to his crotch before you get hauled off of him. You thrash around with a scream before being planted back into the passenger's seat with a huff. “God!” Jeongguk whines as Jimin sits on the middle console to shield your mate from you. “I’ll take care of you soon, baby. I promise.” You whine loudly as the car begins to drive off.

The car finally stops in front of a gated community. Large houses all made of wolframite sit in a semicircle. The gates are made of iron with wolves embossed in the middle and you can’t help but lean forward in your seat to look at everything. Each house was almost the size of a mansion, with cobblestone steps leading up to the fronts. Long pillars of wolframite hold up the front of their structures and you can’t help but drop your jaw at the utter richness this place exudes. You take in similar looking folks like the ones that stopped in front of your cars tending to plants or cleaning the outside of the mansions as they fly around. “Wow!” 

It feels almost as if you’re in another universe, something straight out of a storybook. The gates begin to open and you find yourself lowering your window to peek your head out. There’s a scent on the breeze that catches you, lavender and you find yourself becoming enraptured with this place. Your mind reels and yet, at the same time you feel comfortable, like this is the place you were always meant to be. 

“We’re home. Welcome to High Ground.” 

[lixxen]

Saint Bernard (Matt Murdock x Male!Reader)

Saint Bernard - Matt Murdock x Male!Reader

Reader meets Matt in college and has a horrible past. He is genetically mutated and had powers forced upon him.

Song: Saint Bernard by Lincoln.

-----

Hung pictures of patron saints up on my wall 

Y/n stared up to the sky as the rain came pouring down upon Hell’s kitchen. The grey skies reminded him of his childhood, the walls that kept him prisoner. The walls that were covered in pictures of people he did not believe should have been there.

It wasn’t until he finally got to college, meeting Matthew Murdock, that he had believed in the world. Matthew Murdock became his patron saint. His key to freedom.

He had changed his major from religious studies to law, even if it pissed off the Church. Pissed off the Mass.

Matthew showed him a side of the world that he hadn’t known. It was wonderful.

To remind me that I am a fool. 

The Church didn’t approve of Matthew. He may have been Catholic, but he was a sinner. 

There was a rumor about Matthew within the Church; a hushed one that he was never to speak of around Matthew. Lucifer had taken control of a mortal man and seduced one of the Sisters, forcing her to bear one of his children. 

They told him that Matthew was the Devil, just like his father. To cast him aside and to come home.

But he never saw that in Matthew. He was a saint. He had his moments, but Matthew was wonderful. So he stayed by Matthew’s side.

That was until Elektra had shown up.

Tell me where I came from, what I will always be 

Once Elektra showed up, Matthew seemed to stray.

Y/n watched as Elektra came in and enticed him. They both shared common paths; being helped by a man who Y/n had never learned the name of. It made the two come together to create something that Y/n would finally call the Evil One.

The long nights that Y/n stayed up, waiting for Matthew with Foggy in the dorms.

“He always attracts the wrong type.” Foggy had commented. Y/n could barely agree, knowing what he knew.

Elektra was as beautiful as a coral snake. Gorgeous and enticing. One of the most dangerous and venomous.

Elektra looked at Y/n like he was just a child. She loved him like a young brother, but never recognized his strife.

Y/n never showed reciprocation. He couldn’t.

Just a spoiled little kid who went to catholic school. 

When Elektra dropped out of their lives, Matthew lashed out.

He drew away from Y/n and even casted out Foggy for a while. It hurt everyone around him.

Y/n had never understood normal lives, but he tried.

Y/n stood in the mirror many nights, staring at himself. Two doors over was Matthew and Foggy. They couldn’t understand what was in the mirror. No one truly could.

The shining in those eyes that had never experienced anything other than the Church. He knew that those eyes held a dangerous power. He had tried to tell Matthew one time, but it just wouldn’t come out.

When Elektra left, she told Y/n that he wouldn’t ever be anything more than a Catholic child, spoiled by the blessing of a loving life.

Oh how she was wrong.

When I am dead I won't join their ranks,

Y/n stood on top of the school dormitory, staring down at the people as the rain pelted down upon them. His face was blank as he observed them, going on with their lives without noticing him.

His eyes were glowing softly, his hand clenched like there should be something in it. His breathing was slow and shallow, picking up slightly as he stepped forward. One small step and he could fall to the ground, ending everything then and there.

The Church couldn’t control him here, as much as they tried. They couldn’t control life and death as much as they wished. The Mass couldn’t scream to him, ridicule him and thunder out of control. They couldn’t make his ears echo like a bell was hit when placed over his head.

'Cause they are both holy and free.

He had heard the door open behind him, someone joining him on the roof. His eyes dulled and he let his hand relax.

Turning, he saw Matthew standing there. He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, arms wrapped around himself. He didn’t have his cane.

“Matthew.” Y/n’s voice was barely a whisper.

He never understood how Matthew could do it all. He had freedom and no external ties.

Y/n was tied to the Church forever. He may have been seen as Holy, but he would never be. Not with what they did to him.

“Come down.” Matthew spoke softly, holding a hand out to Y/n. “Let’s talk.”

Y/n reached a hand out, taking Matthew’s.

Matthew would always be a Saint.

And I'm in Ohio, satanic and chained up

“You cannot see the Devil!” The Father screamed at Y/n, who stood there, not looking him in the eye.

“Yes, Father.” Y/n spoke in hushed tones, afraid to be striked.

“You are an angel. You cannot have him spoil your beauty and holiness. How will God take you then?” The Father grabbed onto Y/n’s face, gripping his jaw. “Look at me, Child!”

“Yes, Father.” Y/n tried his best to not tear up.

Shackles weighed heavily on his wrists, unseen by the world. They were grey and cold. Y/n could feel them even if they weren’t truly there.

Y/n remembers Matthew appearing with Foggy down the stairs at that moment. The Father looked up and let out an undignified noise at the sight of Matthew. He let go of Y/n’s jaw, almost throwing him to the side.

“I will be back Sunday, Child.” The Father looked back to Y/n.

“Yes, Father. Of course.” Y/n nodded, glancing up to The Father before looking to the ground.

Once he was gone, tears raised to his eyes. He will never be freed from the monsters that made him.

And until the end, that's how it'll be.

Y/n looked at his hands as Foggy and Matthew joined his side.

“Is he your real dad?” Foggy asked.

“Does it matter?” Y/n replied, not answering the question.

“Of course it does, Y/n.” Matthew spoke up.

Y/n looked up to Matthew, who was looking in his direction, a frown upon his face.

“In the end, I will never be free of them. Let’s go get food. I’m hungry.” Y/n took a deep breath, ignoring the look that Foggy shot to an unseeing Matthew.

I said make me love myself so that I might love you.

“I love you, Y/n.” Matthew had whispered quietly to Y/n one night.

The two were laying together in Matthew’s bed. Y/n had his eyes closed, but they opened when Matthew spoke.

“I love you too, Matthew.” Y/n whispered back. “But you shouldn’t love me. I don’t deserve your love.”

Y/n that night had disappeared from the bed while Matthew slept.

“Goodbye, Matthew. May we meet and love again in another lifetime.” Y/n had whispered to Matthew.

When Matthew woke up, he panicked.

He rushed to Y/n’s room, pulling out the spare key that they had spoofed. He opened the door to find the room bare.

Don't make me a liar, 'cause I swear to god, 

Y/n watched Matthew throughout his life.

He had ran from his life, only keeping contact with Father Paul Lantom.

It was raining the night that Y/n had shown up to the Cathedral. He walked in, the candles flaring up at his presence. Father Lantom had rushed to meet him halfway down the aisle, where Y/n collapsed. 

When Y/n had woken up, Sister Maggie was standing over him, smiling softly.

“Child, what happened to you?” She asked Y/n, the worry in her eyes betraying her smile. “Who did this to you?”

“The Church.” Y/n whispered, his throat hurting. “They made me into this.”

Y/n was sat up as Sister Maggie patched up his injuries. His arm and wing was bound to his body. They offered to give him a place to say, the basement. Y/n accepted with no hesitance. He thanked them greatly until he was fully healed. He had found out that Sister Maggie was Matthew’s mother on a dark night.

When I said it I thought it was true.

Matthew had appeared multiple times to the church before.

But this time was different.

The night was dark, the wind was howling as Y/n crouched on the top of the church, watching the people go by. He watched as Matthew rushed into the church, bruised and bloody.

Y/n hurried to go down the trap door and into the back of the church. He watched from the side door as Matthew walked up to Father Lantom. He looked like he was on an inch of his life, barely holding on.

It had been months since Y/n had seen Matthew and Matthew had shown up to the cathedral. 

Father Lantom had caught Matthew as he passed out again. Y/n slowly moved out into the aisle to help Father Lantom carry Matthew up to the infirmary.

Matthew had fallen into a small coma, Sister Maggie had told Y/n. So Y/n sat with Matthew. He helped tend to Matthew, hoping he wouldn’t wake up with him there. He let the glow in his eyes appear for the first time in years, just for Matthew. He placed a now warm hand onto Matthew’s. He closed his eyes, a halo appearing over his head. It was barely glowing, but it was there. 

Once his eyes opened, Matthew started to gasp and his body arched up. 

Y/n backed up, turning his head slightly to cry out for Sister Maggie.

The Sisters, who doubled as his nurses, rushed in to calm down Matthew. Sister Maggie ushered Y/n out and told him to hide.

Matthew had woken up.

Saint Calvin told me not to worry about you, 

Matthew had spent months in the basement, getting stronger again.

Once he was better, he started to leave the cathedral for small amounts of time. 

Y/n would sit in the back pew, waiting for Matthew to come back.

“You shouldn’t worry about Matthew.” Father Lantom had told him one day, sitting next to Y/n.

“Father… I feel like I must. Matthew runs around claiming to be a Devil when in fact he is a true Saint.” Y/n looked up to Father Lantom, who sighed.

“Y/n, Matthew has been lost his whole life. From the second that Sister Maggie left, his life was turned upside down.” Father Lantom took Y/n’s hand into his own. “You’ve been just as lost since birth. There’s a reason why the Lord had chosen you two.”

“He visited the outside of my room last night.” Y/n looked back to the front of the church. “I think he knows that something resides in it.”

“I will make sure he doesn’t try to go in.” Father Lantom pats Y/n’s hand.

But he's got his own things to deal with.

Y/n had watched Father Lantom as he dealt with some of the shocks of chaos in the city. They had an influx of people coming into the cathedral to cope, so Y/n had come out of his hiding to help them. Matthew is now visible to Foggy and Karen now, accepting his presence once more with struggle. Y/n had spotted them while getting supplies for the church. He was snapped out of his stupor when they called out his cover name at the restaurant.

They called him Gabriel, after the angel. Y/n found it amusing because of what he was.

Y/n had always kept notice of when Matthew was in the pews, praying or watching the other patrons. Now that Y/n was helping, he had to keep track of where Matthew was inside of the services. He couldn’t get too close to Matthew. He looked different now, but not unrecognisable. 

“Who’s the new helper?” Matthew had asked one of the Sisters during a slower day. Y/n knew he was watching closely that day.

“Gabriel? He came in for medical help one day and he shows up everyday to help us as thanks.” The Sister had smiled at him. She hadn’t known that Y/n lived there, so it wasn’t lying. “He’s a lovely boy. He’s especially close to Sister Maggie and Father Lantom. He talks to them mainly. He was there to help when you woke up. He said he was playing with the children and they wanted to see you at the time.”

Y/n knew that Matthew couldn’t hear his heartbeat. He didn’t need one anymore.

Y/n had glanced at Matthew at the same time that Matthew had turned his head towards Y/n. Y/n turned to Father Lantom and whispered to him.

“Father, I’m going on a walk. Is that alright?” Y/n asked. He needed to breathe. He didn’t like how conscious Matthew was about him.

“It’s late, Young One.” Father Lantom frowned.

“I know. I’ll be back within an hour. I promise.” Y/n tried to give a reassuring smile.

“Alright. I’ll close the doors late so you can come through the front.” Father Lantom had nodded. “Be careful.”

“Like always, Father.” Y/n nodded before walking towards the entrance.

Y/n noticed Matthew get up and walk towards the entrance as he did. Y/n picked up his pace, hoping that once he got outside he could lose Matthew. His footsteps picked up and he got into the cold air, taking a deep breath and looking around. Where to go.

Y/n walked down the street, passing a few buildings. Matthew was now outside and following him.

Y/n went down an alley and climbed up a fire escape, getting to the roof and disappearing from Matthew.

There's really just one thing that we have in common 

Karen had taken refuge in the cathedral. She was being hunted and Hell’s Kitchen was terrified. 

Father Lanton had talked to her and introduced her to the Sisters and Y/n. They looked after her until the service, keeping Karen in the same pew as Y/n for safety.

Y/n watched as the fake Devil had walked into the cathedral. 

Y/n knew automatically who he was there for. It was obvious to everyone.

Everyone had gasped when the Devil had walked down the aisle.

“Karen Page.” The Devil called out. “Where is Karen Page?”

Y/n had glanced from Karen to Father Lantom, who frowned at Y/n and barely shook his head no. He didn’t want Y/n to interfere. The other members had all stood up now, looking mortified.

“Karen?” The Devil called out one more time before he striked one of the members.

They let out a scream and some started to run towards the doors. Y/n watched as they struggled to open the door with no avail. The others cowered in the pews.

“Wait! I’m here!” Karen cried out and ran into the aisle as he struck down another man.

“Karen. It’s nice to see you again.” The Devil grinned.

Y/n got up and darted in front of Karen, stopping a meter in front of her. He tried to create a barrier between them so he couldn’t attack her.

“Don’t come any closer!” Y/n cried out.

“Oh that’s funny-” The Devil had laughed before Matthew had kicked him down.

Y/n grabbed Karen and brought her back up towards Father Lantom and the others, trying to coax her quietly into staying down but to no avail. They watched the two fight for a minute until the Devil seemingly knocked out Matthew.

An uneasiness and anger settled in the bottom of Y/n’s gut and he glanced around quickly.

“Y/n, protect the children and others.” Father Lantom had spoken up and Y/n turned to him.

“Father, we need to get Karen out of here.” Y/n tried. He hadn’t noticed Karen and the Devil staring at one another until Father Lantom pushed Y/n out of the way. He stepped in front of Karen right as the billy club flew at her. It buried itself into his stomach and Y/n suddenly felt numb.

Father Lantom dropped into Karen’s arms as she screamed out.

“Y… Y/n…” Father Lantom spoke quietly.

Neither of us will be missed.

Matthew sprung up with a scream, attacking the Devil suddenly in response.

Y/n dropped to his knees next to Father Lantom, looking over him. The injury was bad. He was losing blood too quickly for Y/n to heal him.

Y/n’s breathing picked up quickly and he felt the energy and anger swirling in his stomach. Karen looked up from Father Lantom to Y/n, gasping as she saw the halo above Y/n’s head and the glowing eyes.

Y/n stood up and shrugged off the jacket on his back, the one that hid his loose wings. The sudden movement caught both the Devil and Matthew’s attention.

Y/n held out a hand, a golden bow seemingly materializing in his hands. The other hand reaches behind him and he pulls a golden arrow out of nowhere. He put the arrow onto the golden string, pulling back and aiming.

Saint Bernard sits at the top of the driveway, 

Y/n let go of the arrow, his halo and arrow brightly as it flew through the air.

It hit the Devil and made him stumble backwards.

Matthew jumped back into the fight, keeping the Devil focused on him instead of Y/n.

Y/n turned back to look at Karen, who had backed up slightly now.

“Get them to the basement, Karen. I’ll help Matthew.” Y/n spoke quietly enough to not alert the civilians but loud enough for Karen to hear.

She nods and starts to move them towards the basement.

Y/n turned back and joined the fight again. He fell into place next to Matthew, who turned his head towards him for a split second.

“Y/n?” Matthew asked in a breathless voice.

“Matthew.” Y/n replied. “Get him down and keep him there.”

Matthew nodded and jumped to try and flip the Devil over. The two looked almost like they were dancing, but Y/n knew better.

Once Matthew had gotten the Devil down, Y/n took a glowing hand and closed his eyes, placing the hand over the Devil’s face.

You always said how you loved dogs.

Y/n focused hard, pouring all of his intent into his hand and the Devil. The Devil went limp and fell still.

Y/n backed up, his body shocked by the energy flood. He turned towards Father Lantom and stumbled over.

“Y/n, what are you doing? What did you do?” Matthew asked as Y/n fell to his knees in front of Father Lantom’s body.

I don't know if I count 

Y/n placed his hand on Father Lantom’s stomach and focused the energy back into Father Lantom.

“Oh Holy Father, my Lord, please bless him.” Y/n whispered and felt the energy leave his body.

Father Lantom shocked back to life and Y/n’s eyesight started to turn black.

But I'm trying my best

Y/n fell backwards as Matthew ran towards him, calling his name.

When I'm howling and barking these songs. 

The Lord had let Jesus bring back a bird, Y/n remembered.

But that was a bird.

--

Matthew sat with Y/n’s body, holding Y/n’s hand as Foggy and Karen sat next to him.

Matthew hadn’t prayed often, but today was one day he did.

“I can’t believe he was here this whole time.” Foggy was still shocked.

“Father Lantom said that after he left college, Y/n had shown up months later all busted up and hurt. Y/n never talked about what happened, but Father said that he spoke of Matt in college and why he had to leave.” Karen filled them in. 

Matthew pressed his hand to Y/n’s face, wishing that they met under different circumstances.

-----

Y/n L/n.

29 years old, one year younger than Matthew Murdock.

Born in a small religious town in Ohio.

The Church is a catholic cult that has control in many major cities. They have a few churches in New York City and Hell’s Kitchen, not including the Cathedral. Their hometown is where Y/n was born.

Their goal is to make the next Christ, so they take children and mothers to create what are considered Angels. Until Y/n, none of the children or mothers had survived. The higher ups in the Church treated him like a creature to control, like Angels could be domesticated. The rest of the Church worshipped him as the second Christ. When he went to college, he managed to break away from the Church and get away.

Y/n was born with wings on his back that turned out to be a beautiful white. He can conceal them in an extra layer of skin on his back. He learned to fly at a young age.

He was tested on in his young years to give him powers that they believed an angel would have. 

He can create a weapon made of light in his hands and use them as real weapons. With intention, he can create small blessings and heal people to a certain degree. A halo will appear over his head and show how powerful he is at the moment. His senses are enhanced and he is slightly more durable. While his power is strong, he is more resistant towards damage. He can go into a state of rest where his mortal functions shut down (heartbeat, body heat). 

His powers are stronger the more healthy he is (how much energy is stored) and the more focused he is. When his emotions take control, his power flares to a dangerous level.

-

LANTOM EXPLANATION:

He basically took all of the energy he needed to bring Lantom back from Poindexter, which in turn killed Poindexter. Y/n passed out from a large use of his power. It was a miracle and a healing in one. His power comes from how much energy he has at the time, so he needed more.

WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN COLLEGE AND HIM SHOWING UP AT THE CHURCH:

The Church came after him, so he spent two months fighting anyone that had come after him. They also live in Hell’s Kitchen, so he ran into some of Fisk’s (or someone else’s) men. He got jumped and defended himself. He chose Hell’s Kitchen to run to because it was where Matt was from and he knew about Father Lantom and Sister Maggie from Matt. He knew they would help him some.

[sebspocketsquare]

Quarantine 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 7! I hope you enjoy it ;)

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, feels, fluff, moments of sadness, storms 

[J:] So.. Saturday at 5:00. Sound good?

[You:] Sounds perfect :) Let’s hope this weather clears up before then..

It was late afternoon, you were eating your first meal of the day.

A bowl of your favorite cereal.

[J:] I really enjoyed our date last night, by the way.. 

[J:] Sorry I was pretty nervous at first..

You smile, setting your bowl on the coffee table as you respond.

[You:] Oh, you don’t have to be sorry at all.. I was just as nervous as you were :)

[You:] First dates are always weird, J..

[You:] Ours just happened to be a little weirder than most. :P

[J:] I really really REALLY hate first dates…

You’re about to respond, tell him you feel the exact same way, but…

[J:] And yet, I still love ours.

[J:] And I’m really looking forward to the next one. :)

His text has your heart fluttering like a swarm of butterflies, and you decide to change the subject.

[You:] Speaking of our date..

[You:] I believe we made a deal, didn’t we?

You can see him start typing, erase it and stop, and then start typing again.

This pattern repeats four times before an actual message comes through.

[J:] You first.

You knew he was nervous about this part for some reason, so you had no issue with obliging this request.

Luckily you had brushed your hair today when you first woke up, put on your moisturizer and a bit of mascara. You weren’t as dolled up as you could be, but you thought it was better this way.

If quarantine had taught you anything, it was how to be comfortable with your bare face, to fall in love with some of your natural qualities.

Taking a seat in a chair by the window, you open your camera and take a few selfies from the more flattering angles you’d looked up on pinterest.

They’re pretty enough, but not what you’re looking for.

With a sigh, you look out the window at a lone, common starling sitting on the branch of a tree. He looks to you and cocks his head, as if to say ‘hello’. Your lip curls into a half smile, and at that moment, your thumb slips and captures an accidental photo.

It would turn out to be the perfect one.

It takes you exactly six and a half minutes to actually gain the courage to press send.

As soon as you do, you put your phone screen down on the table and groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuuuck. Why did I send that one?” 

You suddenly regret not putting more makeup on, not editing out the tiny blemish on your chin, not being certain that your hair wasn’t frizzy.

What if this was it - the beginning of the end?

Your phone buzzes from its place on the table.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, before you pick it up.

It’s a string of texts from J, with more coming in with every moment that passes.

[J:] Doll

[J:] Goddamnnnnn…

[J:] You are seriously the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

[J:] Like… are you real??

[J:] How did i get so goddamn lucky?

[J:] Your eyes are so gorgeous, holy shit.

If you weren’t warm in the face before, you were now.

[You:] Don’t stare too much. :P

[J:] Too late for that. I can’t stop.

He’s silent for a few minutes, and you’re sure it’s because he’s staring at your photo again.

[You:] I do believe it’s your turn, Sarge. ;)

It takes him even longer to reply this time.

He starts typing, stops, and then starts again in a vicious cycle.

[J:] You don’t wanna see me, Doll.. I haven’t shaved in like three weeks…

You can’t help but pout a little bit.

[You:] We made a deal, J :(

[You:] Don’t hide those pretty blue eyes from me.

Hopeful that your playful attempt at comfort would be convincing enough for him, you set your phone back on the coffee table and head to the kitchen to wash your dishes.

When you return five minutes later, you’re happy to find that you have two new messages.

[J:] Alright, just.. I hope you’re not disappointed.

[J:]

Your jaw goes slack and you can’t tear your eyes away from his.

They were beautiful. 

The way the deep blue of the outer edge surrounded the light blue-grey iris reminded you of crashing ocean waves, and you wanted nothing more than to get lost in them.

You can’t tell if time has slowed down or if you just weren’t breathing correctly anymore, but you can hear your heart beating in your ears as you look him over.

He’s gorgeous. The glittering grey hairs throughout his beard only made him even more attractive and for some strange reason, all you wanted to do was run your fingertips through it.

Was he even real?

[J:] Doll…?

You don’t even realize it’s been fifteen minutes since he’s sent the picture.

[You:] Sorry, it’s just..

[You:] You know you’re gorgeous, right?

[You:] Like.. Probably the most beautiful man in the history of like.. Ever??

You’re well aware you sound like a bit of a fangirl, but so what? He was breathtaking.

[J:] You’re just being nice.

A scoff escapes your lips as you respond.

[You:] Um, no. 

[You:] I meant it.

[You:] I can’t believe you’ve been hiding those eyes from me for so long.

[J:] You’re too kind.

You decide to tease him a little.

[You:] Are you blushing, Sarge? ;)

[J:] I just might be, doll.

The rest of your day is spent chatting back and forth. J said he had to do some assignments for work on his computer, so he couldn’t game until really late that night, but it didn’t bother you.

It gave you a chance to relax and watch some TV for a while.

The first channel that comes up is the news, and you’re about to turn it off, but something catches your eye.

They’re interviewing Captain America, a fluff piece of him telling you what you can do to help your community - proper social distancing measures and proper handwashing etiquette.

He’s wearing a mask, so only the bottom half of his face is visible, but he looks oddly familiar.

It takes five minutes of watching it to realize who he reminds you of.

Sam. J’s Sam.

You pick up your phone, deciding to share your thoughts.

[You:] So.. I was watching the news..

[J:] Yikes.

[You:] Yeah..

[You:] Have you ever noticed how much Sam and Captain America look alike?

He takes ten minutes to respond, and by this time, the interview with the Captain is over, and you’ve moved on to a re-run of one of your favorite shows.

[J:] Uh, no…

[J:] Why?

[J:] What makes you think that?

All three texts come in quick succession, almost as if they were sent out of panic.

Two more show up on your screen in the same spirit.

[J:] Besides, haven't you seen Sam’s arms? He’s got fucking bird arms.

[J:] Captain America is super buff. No way they’re the same person.

You think back to when Sam came to your apartment to install your security system, and you specifically remember thinking how nice his arms were..

But the fact that J seems to be a little uncomfortable with your observation has you feeling weird too, so you decide to drop the subject for now.

[You:] I guess you’re right. My mind must be playing tricks on me.

[You:] I blame the quarantine.

The reply you receive is only three letters long, and it doesn’t sit right with you either.

[J:] Lol

SUNDAY, 4:15PM

You’ve been awake since noon, which is early for you nowadays. 

It’s been nearly hailing all day, and it was beginning to also put a damper on your mood.

You had to cancel your second date due to the storms, and your make-up date with J was supposed to be in forty five minutes, but there was no way it could happen with the weather in its current state.

It’s be surprising if the whole city didn’t lose power at this rate.

[You:] I think we’re gonna have to cancel again tonight, J.. 

[You:] It’s just getting worse as time goes on.

It breaks your heart to have to cancel on him twice in only a matter of two days, but the cons outweigh the pros in this situation.

[J:] But… our date

[J:] :(

Releasing a heavy sigh, you send back a sad face of your own, chewing the inside of your cheek in an attempt to not let your emotions get the best of you.

[New photo message from J. To view image, unlock device]

The message appears on your screen moments after you’ve begun packing away your date set up. Something in your gut told you he wasn’t going to listen to your recommendation to stay home.

When you open it, you’re not surprised at what you find, but you are absolutely smitten.

 [J:] I’m on my way, doll. Don’t give up on me just yet.

[J:]

You get so distracted staring at his lips, his goddamn perfect, beautiful lips that you don’t notice when twenty minutes has passed since he sent the photo.

He’d be here sooner than you expected, and worse, he was walking in the rain to do it.

What were you going to do with a man who’s stubbornness matched your own?

You decide to set a blanket outside, along with a thermos full of hot coffee.

The sky is dark grey, almost black in some spots, and the fact that it was only 5:00 only made it that much more obvious how nasty of a storm this was turning out to be.

You hoped he was okay.

Back against the door, you sit and wait for him.

Within half an hour, his signature sound of arrival hits the door in quick succession.

Knock. Knock Knock. Knock.

Always in time with your heart.

“How bad was your walk?” You ask immediately, to which you hear a noise that’s somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “That bad, huh?”

“The thunder was pretty loud. Made me jump a few times.” He finally confesses.

Your heart drops, “J.. I told you not to come. I know you wanted to have our date, and I.. I really did too, but.. It’s freezing and raining. You could get sick.”

Concern is dripping from each and every word, and you miss the way his entire face lights up. His heart flutters at hearing how much you care for him. About him.

“Yeah, well, doll.. You’re worth it. Thanks for the coffee by the way. Good call.”

You hear him set his backpack down, followed by his jacket rubbing against the door as he sits. He lets out a half sigh, half hiss when his jeans hit the concrete beneath him, and you’re sure he’s completely soaked to the bone.

Outwardly, you say nothing. Silence. 

He’s not sure if you’re upset or angry. Or maybe just lost in contemplation.

Inwardly, you’re facing a battle. 

A battle between letting a man whom you had surprisingly strong feelings for sit out in the rain and catch a cold, and letting said man inside your apartment during a nationwide quarantine, never having met him face to face.

The lights flicker on and off. On and off again.

The thunder rumbles and you can see the sky flash through your curtains.

J lets out a soft, “Doll?”

Your windows fill with a quick, bright, white light for a moment, before the loudest crash of thunder makes your body tremble.

Your apartment goes black and silent in a matter of seconds, and J releases a quiet, “What the hell?”

Your hands are quaking, and your heartbeat kicks into overdrive as you make your final choice.

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the tags :(  ).  @mindingmyownbusiness​ @plumfondler​  @buckybarnesappreciationsociety​ @loricameback​ @tinaferraldo​ @geminimoonbeamx​  @preserumsteverogers​ @moderapoppins​ @lowkeysebby​ @buckyshattergirl​  @jayattemptstoruletheworld​    @the-observant-fangirl​ @moondancewrites​ @moonbeambucky​ @trinityjadec​  @stevieang​  @bionic-buckyb​ @eyecandybarnes​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​ @promarvelfangirl​ @ballyhoobarnes​ @bucky-plums-barnes​ @cate-lynne​ @witchymarvelspacecase​ @imaginingbucky​ @theimpossibleg1rl​ @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing​ @formulafun​ @curvybihufflepuff​ @fanficsformarvelkillme​  @shadyskit​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @reading–mermaid @fuckmestan​ @siliverin​ @verygraphicink​ @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty​ @steadyphantomcat​ @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow​ @theperditioncrasher​ @mmyepic​ @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @dreamingofonceuponatime​ @just-a-littlebit-of-everything​ @bluerorjhan​ @tarynsnotokay​ @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri​ @pinknerdpanda​​ @starkrobb​ @marvelgirl7​ @unscriptedtimetraveler​ @fangeekkk​ @wonderlandmind4​ @pinkisokay​ @mrsdaamneron​ @rynabarnesrogers​ @wish-i-had-something-better​ @stanning-seb-stan​ @oilersgirl35​ @vaisabu​ @paranoid-borderline-insane​ @bonkywobble​ @vikki-rogue​ @witchymegg​ @a--1--1--3​ @margetastic33​ @stuffandstuff-stuff​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @elementec​ @thummbelina​ @booktease21​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @haileystudy

[ji-yaaan]

°•°•°•°𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞°•°•°•°

A Silver x Reader Oneshot ^v^

Note: for the sake of third person it's a fem!reader, and I'm really sorry about that cuz I made this in like... Idk 2-3 am... So my brain is not functioning properly (꒦ິ⍸꒦ິ) sorry bout that guis, but feel free to replace the pronouns and gender thingy ( ´༎ຶㅂ༎ຶ`)

Mistakes were made under the cut!

A midsummer night with the twinkling stars that adorned the vast night skies. There lies a boy with silver hair under the cool shade of the big oak tree. After a long day of school, exhausted from the activities done, the boy leaned over the tree, relaxing at the comfortable ambiance in the middle of the dark forests illuminated by the stars and moonlight. Drowsy from exhaustion the boy nodded off to sleep as the crickets sing the songs of the night. What a sight to see.... The girl thought to herself.

In a sleepless humid night with the stuffy and dusty air suffocating the halls of the ramshackle dorm, a late night stroll in the forest for a breather seems like a good way to pass time and boredom. She ventures out in the dark forest as the moon watches over her up above.

As she strolls in the forest savoring the cool night's breeze. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she saw a man lying down under the oak tree in the middle of the vast forest. How odd... She thinks to herself. In the dark woods of twisted wonderland, lies a young man deep in slumber, completely out in the open from unknown dangers lurking around. But who was she to judge? There she was venturing out in the forest in God knows what time...The girl stood frozen in her spot as she peered over the young man.

There sat a boy with soft and fluffy silver hair flowing from the cool breeze. With long silver lashes adorning his porcelain face, his chest rising and falling, evident of his state in deep slumber. The girl crouched down mesmerized with the silver haired beauty's stunning visuals.

"Hmmm......? Pfffft!" The girl found herself chucking upon noticing the man frowning in his sleep, his eyebrows knitted together, wrinkling his forehead. What in the world could he be dreaming for him to frown even in his sleep? She asks to herself...

Dazed and confused, the girl subconsciously poked the man's forehead Ahhhhh! I've done it! flustered and shocked from her dumb actions, she tries to get up and leave from embarrassment, only to be interrupted with a big hand that tightly gripped her frail wrists.

The man has awokened from his slumber. "What are you doing?" Exclaims the young man as he furrows his eyebrows while glaring at the girl. The grip tightening at the young maiden's wrist, she said "Wait! Wait! Time out! Time out!". The boy furrowed his eyebrows yet again while he slightly loosens his grip. "Ehehe.... You see.... How do I explain it......" The girl reasoned as the young boy started to tightly grip his hands at her wrist yet again. "Uhmmm! You see I was just having a midnight stroll to take a breather! The ramshackle dorms are pretty iffy and stuffy, so I wanted to get fresh air! But then I saw you sleeping here in the oak tree where I usually go! And then.... Uhm... Oh! And uhm..... I saw you're frowning in your sleep?! so I think I subconciously poked you without me noticing?! I mean who even sleeps in the middle of nowhere frowing right?hehe-....... I mean! I'm so sorryyyy! Please let go of me!!!" The girl started blabbing in panic in front of the boy. "Is that so?......." The boy replied letting go of her wrist.

Thus the akward silence began. The night was silent as the moon shone above the both of them, with crickets singing, as the cool night breeze flew past the two. The night was finally settling in. The ambiance was calming and relaxing. It was the type of akward that is comfortable in it's own way.

"Uhmm..... Have a hard time sleeping too? The night was really stuffy...... I had a really hard time sleeping....." The girl said breaking the ice.

"Is that so?....." The silver haired boy replied. What's with his answers?? I swear if he answers iS thAt sO again I'm disowning grimm.

"Uhm.... My name is (y/n)! A first year from the ramshackle dorms!" she said. "I see you're the first year who made quite the ruckus at the ceremony." He calmly said. "Well.....yeah, there’s that...." (y/n) relpied embarrased and dissapointed.

"Silver" the man said. Hmmm? Silver? The girl thinks to herself. "My name is Silver.... a second year from the Diasomnia dorms." The boy continued whilst sighing."Well.....nice to meet you Silver!" The girl giggles as she beamed a smile to the boy before her.

Little did they knew that this nightly rendezvous marks the start of ever occuring meetings. Encounter after encounter, a morning greeting whilst gazes meet, a warm smile paints their faces. Both of them truly grew fonder and closer with each other as time passed by.

Late night rendezvous became a habit of the two, telling each other tidbits of themselves as they enthusiastically share how their day went with each other, with smiles and laughter that echoed in the forest.

But this innocent friendship between the two of you was soon to be short lived... As silver finally understood what he felt about you. As shocking as it was for him, he felt happy in your precence, but the moment he realized his true inner feelings, he felt his stomach churn from the joy, love, and fear he felt for (y/n). It felt as if all his emotions were stirred up inside him giving him butterflies.

The next following days were a blur. It felt as if viewing a cheesy romance movie with rose tinted glasses. With every smile, every laugh, even the little mannerisms (y/n) did, it never failed to make his heart flutter. Silver felt complete in her precence...

They say humans are naturally greedy creatures....... Silver wanted more he wanted to indulge himself in (y/n)'s light more...... So he did his best to convey his emotions to you.

As much as she'd hate to admit it, the mellow touches silver gives sends butterflies in her stomach. She noticed little bits of the feelings silver conveyed, but she refused to believe the little voice inside her that says maybe, just maybe, silver actually had feelings for you. She was in a state of a blind denial. But she truly appreciated and loved all the small gestures Silver did, she really did found herself a friend she loved.

their innocent friendly relationship could only last for long. The more time passed by, the more sexual tension aroused between the two. With playful fights turning uncomfortable, when they laugh at each other as their gazes suddenly meet.... It was very hard not to notice the tension, leaving both very flustered and bashful with each other. The little nightly tryst the two had felt like a stroll in the clouds. Living life wearing rose tinted glasses was sure a luxury one could have.

A refreshing gush of wind flew past the luscious silver locks of the boy, with his periwinkle orbs fixated unto the book he was holding, a deep sigh escaped his lips as he flips through the pages spaced out, not focusing on the contents at all, as hundreds of thoughts linger on his mind, preoccupying him from reading his book. A thought crossed his mind, no..... This thought was plastered all over his mind when did it go wrong? The cloudy skies above was peaceful, how he wished to have his mind be as peaceful as the clouds above. The boy then put down his book, and succumbs to the drowsiness he's suffering from, due to restless nights of tossing and turning.

As he's nodding off to sleep yet again, the little birds chirp in joy singing the songs of the forest. Along with the songs of the birds, there was a familiar voice who hummed a familiar tune of a melody one has heard before. Yet again, there she stood in front of Silver drowsing off to dreamland. "Hmmmm! Is this deja vu?" (Y/n) sat beside her friend as she put silver's head on her lap. "If you keep sleeping like that, your neck would hurt later you know?"

Time passed by quick with thunders rumbling in the distance, grey clouds enveloped the whole skies threatening for it to pour any moment. Silver then awoke to the sounds that disturbed his peaceful nap. Ah! I've overslept.... what time is it now? but before he could even pull himself together, he was shocked to see himself lying on your lap whilst you slept like a child leaning on the big oak tree.

The lonely nights slowly became brighter and colorful. Without even realizing it, the two started to look forward to the late night meetings under the twinkling stars, basking under the moonlight. These secret little meetings felt like joy to Silver, he felt like time stops whenever he's with (y/n). Mhmmm.... I may have found myself a friend i cherish deeply, huh? Silver thinks to himself smiling whilst looking at (y/n) grinning widely.

He felt his heart melt right then and there...

Was he dreaming, is this a dream? "Wait no, the sky might come pouring down any moment now....." Silver woke up the girl lost in dreamland how cute.....

"AH! I ACCIDENTALLY SLEPT! I was about to wake you up but I bombed it!.... Wait is it going to rain? Oh God....." Cold Raindrops started pouring from the grey skies as the two ran across the forest to seek shelter in the Diasomnia dorms.

The both of you drenched, like little children who had fun playing in the rain, the both of you start laughing at yourselves. Malleus entered the room shocked to see the two of you drenched."Ah! MalMal-Senpai~!" called out (y/n)."Hmm~?.....I see you still call me that nickname huh?" Malleus smiled softly as he offered a dry towel for (y/n).

Silver watched as (y/n)'s face lit up just from simple exchanges from his young master. Ah I see now, this is when everything went wrong huh?..... He thought to himself.

One sleepless night with the humid breeze flowing through the windows, as dusty air covered the rooms of the ramshackle dormitory, (y/n) goes with the usual late night stroll to the forest to find her buddy, Silver. She wanted to talk lots to him about her long day with the troubles that the trio has cooked up yet again. She was so excited just by thinking about it, but she was left dissapointed when she did not find her friend waiting at the usual spot. Silver is probably busy she thought. Ready to go back to the dorms, she stayed a bit longer to linger in the cool night's breeze.

Whilst enjoying the calm ambiance,she felt a presence with her, and to her shock, there was a mysterious man with horns that stood behind her, he seemed oddly familiar to her.... As their eyes locked, the only thing that (y/n) felt was her heart racing out from her chest, a feeling like someone squeezing your heart out making it hard to breathe. "How pretty....." She slipped. "AH I'M SORRY MY THOUGHTS SLIPPED!" (Y/n) admitted to her crimes embarrased.

The man with horns furrowed his eyebrows, but soon after, he chuckled at the young girl's foolish actions. "Hmmmm...really now?... how interesting you are little girl...." The man with horns replied.

(Y/n) was flustered and mesmerised by the man that stood before her. He made her breathless. With the beautiful raven hair that flew past the wind, and the chartreuse eyes that shone in the dark like sparkling emeralds. His porcelain ghostly white skin that almost look transparent......how beautiful.....

"Uhhhmm.... Hello... My name is (y/n)!" Did that sound akward?? She thought. "You're one of the first years that stirred up trouble in the ceremony right?" Says the man with horns.

"Well....ehehe.....yeah, that happend...." She peeked at the man again, only to be caught with his sharp glowing eyes. How embarassing..... "Oh! uhm so you are???" Truth be told, in reality, she already knew the man in front of him, the infamous man who supervises the Diasomnia dorms, the young master of your friend Silver, The Malleus Draconia himself. But it is still courtesy when you introduce yourself to others, they should return the introduction as well. (Y/n) stared at the man anticipating a reply. "Don't you already my name though?" He said. "But it's still respectful to introduce yourself, when someone introduced themselves to you!" (Y/n) whined like a little child, still looking expectant with eyes that shone innocently right back at the dark fae that stood before her. Malleus stared at the small girl, then smirked at her cute behaviour she kept showing. How odd..... how can someone like her not be afraid in my presence?how can she act honestly in front of me? How refreshing.... he thinks to himself. "Hmmm? But you already know my name? What is there for me to introduce?" The man said slightly smirking anticipating the girl's reaction. "Hmmm....is that so?" She replied dissapointed like a puppy with it's ears down. The man smirked again with (y/n)'s honest actions. She wears her heart on her sleeve.....how cute....

"then how about this? Call me whatever you want...." Even Malleus was confused with what he was saying, but he wants to see what her reaction will be, she piqued his interest..... She baffled the fae that stood before her.

"Reeaally??!! You cant take that back!!!" She grinned happily and exitedly as her eyes shone in pure delight. The fae smiles to himself finding the little girl quite odd, I mean, He's Malleus Draconia a poweful man, one of the greatest mages in the world. Yet he's perplex with a young girl approaching him without care in the world, not caring on who he is it warmed his heart to find someone this honest to approach him without being terrified.

"Hmmmm, now what can I call you?......" The girl questions to herself deep in her thoughts as the fae stared at her face, interested eager for the answer she'll come up with. "Pfffft!! I got it!" She says as she peered at the fae's glowing eyes. "Can I call you Malmal?" Her gaze unwavering stared at the man in front of her as she stops herself from breaking down in laughter. "Pfft! Ahahaha!" Malleus was baffled with the nickname (y/n) came up with as he bursts in laughter.... how interesting this girl is.... To have the audacity and bravery to call him that nickname, its starting to appear her bravery is just plain foolishness, but he did not hate it at all.

Silver knew deep inside that (y/n) is slowly falling for his young master. With each encounter with malleus, (y/n)'s eyes lits up like diamonds as she greets malleus with the nickname she came up with.... "Oh! MalMal? Goodmorning! hehe". Silver can't even deny the jealousy that prickled his heart as he saw the person he cherished and loved dearly, falling in another man's arms, worse, she seven fell for the young master that silver truly respected with all his heart. What can he do? He's just your friend, he's just a guard to his young master.....

He felt like his world came down crushing on him, why must this happen? , It felt like a thousand stab wounds pierced his heart... Indulging himself in the light (y/n) gave him was enough for him...... He wanted to do his best to protect your smile and laughter..... That's what he's best at doing..... Right?? He loves (y/n) so much that seeing her happy was enough for him.

Slowly, the nightly rendezvous turned into (y/n) telling silver love songs about Malleus... Even if it hurts, silver sat there listening to (y/n)'s every word, he felt happy to see (y/n) smile ear to ear as she tell about malleus. She never smiled like that before... silver thinks to himself. It left a distinct bittersweet taste in his mouth.

The peace was soon interrupted after muffled sobs rang in the woods, only to see a girl with stains of tears evident in her cheeks and glossy eyes as salty tears trickled in the corners of her eyes.

Meeting after meeting, a tryst under the moonlight as a sweet delightful feeling bloomed in (y/n)'s heart. She fell smitten for the fae with each passing second.

"Silver, what do I do?" She asked the silver haired boy choking on her words. Silver felt his heart drop as (y/n) fell in his arms choking on her sobs. Silver was speechless and was in a state of panic as he tries to console the girl by patting her back, tracing intricate patterns in attempts to calm (y/n) down....

A sunny day as bright clear skies lit the world of twisted wonderland, a chilly breeze flew past the silver haired boy as he woke up from slumber. The birds are chirping melliflous melodies. The once lush leaves that now turned orangefell from the trees as a single leaf stuck unto the boy's hair.

"Hic, he knows...... Malleus knows...... he asked me if I liked him, and I think he doesn't like it.... hic...... He hates me now right?" Reddish eyes gazed at silver as he felt his heart shattering into millions of pieces. "Uhmm..... Don't worry.... No one hates you... You know I like you" he replied with a gentle smile, as he rubbed (y/n)'s back calming her down. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better..... It's fine.... Maybe i'll just make these feelings dissaper? That'll do the trick right? It's better than malleus hating me..." As much as silver wanted to say yes, he wanted to hold (y/n)'s hand, he wanted to kiss her.... He wanted (y/n) to be his..... Seeing (y/n) in pain broke him. "You should just tell him how you feel..." A pained smile painted silver's face...."so can you please cheer up now?" He asked (y/n)..... "You're right...... I should be brave and face my problems...... Thank you silver...... You're the best!" Simple kind words that conveyed innocent feelings felt like a thousand stab wounds...... How stupid have I grown from being with you?...... I guess it's true that love can make someone the most stupid person in the world.....

Springtime is finally over..... Now it's time to stop wearing the rose tinted glasses and continue to live on the life of dull colors..... But that's fine..... The bright hues of the autumn leaves still colored the world of it's dull grey colors.....

"Silver! There you are!" a girl happily called out as she ran in silver's direction. "Sleeping in the middle of the day?.... Haaah...... I can't blame you... Oh! That reminds me! Later this evening, I'll be borrowing malleus hehe~ so you and sebek shouldn't fuss over him later m'kay?~" (y/n) grinned happily smiling ear to ear. "Glad to know you're back to being your usual loud self again...." Silver smiled at the girl. "HEY! LOUD?! Whats that about!" She replied as the both of their laughter echoed in the forest.

On one sleepless night, as silver sat under the oak tree savoring the fresh air of the night. He felt solitude in the peace and quiet surrounding him.

A cold wind blew the autumn leaves as Silver ventured in the woods in a chilly night to pass time of boredom. He leaned in the oak tree that once was green and lush, now with its leaves slowly falling in the ground. Staring at the big oak tree where everything started, his lips curved up to form a weak smile It's time to let her go now huh?. He looks up at the dark skies as tiny shards of light twinkled in the nothingness, he smiled to himself again for the last time, as he goes back to his dorm. But to his surprise he heard faint giggling in the distance as two couple held hands basking under the serene glow of the moonlight on a midnight tryst.

For a brief moment, the girl caught Silver's gaze as a soft mellow smile forms on her face only to be broken when the fae started talking and the girl got her focus back on her lover. His heart throbbed even with just a stare.... When did i become this stupid? but soon enough, a pained smile graced his face, accepting his circumstances, accepting his defeat.

"I lost..... Yet I still care for you.... Now when I look into your eyes, all I see is a stranger who knows all my secrets...... I guess... A soulmate who wasn't meant to be?......now it's finally time to say goodbye..." The autumn leaves flew as the chilly breeze blew past the young boy with silver hair........

• The End •

Y'all if you thought this was fluff.... I'm sorry.... I'm so much very sorry for that..... Pls stone me gently.... ( ´༎ຶㅂ༎ຶ`)

The story became Silver x Reader x Malleus real quick huh? 👁️👄👁️

Also i keep writing fics based on songs i play the song that inspired me here is called: "A soulmate who wasn't meant to be" by Jessica benko ^~^ 

Solstice: either of the two times in the year, the summer solstice and the winter solstice, when the sun reaches its highest or lowest point in the sky at noon, marked by the longest and shortest days.

Edit: WHY THE FRICK IS TUMBLR MESSING THIS UP! I HAVE TO EDIT THIS FOR LIKE.... 5 TIMES NOW! TUMBLR WTF!

[joyful-soul-collector]

Blanket Forts and Midnight Stories

By @joyful-soul-collector for @marvels-blue-phoenix

Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, DUM-E

Summary:  This is my gift for the Friendly Neighborhood Exchange! I combined two of the prompts given to me: "The two are stuck inside on a rainy day so they make a blanket fort and watch movies, falling asleep inside of it", and "Peter has a nightmare so Tony reads to him to get him back to sleep".

Thank you @friendly-neighborhood-exchange for planning this event! The story is under the cut, or you can read it on ao3

Tony was reading on the couch when Peter nearly fell flat on his face as he hopped on one foot into the living room that morning, trying his hardest to pull on a sock.

“Mr. Stark--ack--Mr. Stark I’m so sorry I woke up late, my alarm didn’t go off--”

“Woah hey, Pete, calm down,” Tony said with a laugh, putting down his book and turning in his seat to face him. Peter had on a wrinkled pair of jeans that Tony was fairly certain were the same ones he'd worn yesterday, had somehow put his shirt on backwards as well as inside out, and was sporting such ridiculous bedhead that it reminded Tony of a mad scientist. This of course wasn’t helped by the fact that he was still struggling to put on one of his socks.

“I think the park should be open but--jesus, c’mon stupid sock--I dunno if we’ll have time to go on all the rides and still play games now--”

“Pete have you not looked out the window yet?” Tony interrupted with a frown.

“Huh?” Peter said. Tony felt his heart squeeze a little when Peter glanced out to see an abysmally grey sky, the city of New York seemingly warped by the constant torrent of rain upon the windows of Stark Tower. His entire body seemed to droop sadly at the sight, even his spiky bedhead looking much more miserable than before.

“Oh,” he said quietly, and Tony gave a sympathetic chuckle.

“Sorry bud. No Tornado of Death Ride today,” Tony said.

“Hurricane of Death Ride, Mr. Stark,” Peter muttered, flopping down on the couch next to Tony.

“Hurricane, Tornado, they’re both winds that go in a circle,” Tony said. “Besides, any ride with the phrase ‘of Death’ in it, automatically sounds super cheesy. I could come up with a better name for it, and that’s not even my job.”

Peter replied with a noncommittal “hmm”, and Tony looked up at him. Peter was frowning at his knees, slumped against the couch so that his chin rested on his chest and his arms laid limply on his legs. He seemed to be more upset about this than Tony had thought he would be.

“You know we can always go another time, right kid?” Tony said.

“Yeah, I know,” Peter said with a sigh.

“So what’s bothering you?” Tony prompted.

“I--I dunno, I was just really looking forward to this. I mean with all my homework piling up since the school year is ending I haven’t been able to come over here for weeks, and I just--” Peter cut himself off, instead gesturing angrily at the window. Tony put his arm around Peter’s shoulders as he gathered his thoughts.

“I just wanted to spend the weekend with you. I miss you a lot,” he said quietly, snuggling a little closer to Tony’s side.

“Aw Pete,” Tony said, rubbing his arm comfortingly and pulling Peter so his head laid against Tony’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry we can’t go to the park today.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“You’ve been really stressed about school lately, haven’t you?” Tony said, remembering how dark the circles were under Peter’s eyes when he arrived at the tower yesterday. Karen had said he was still doing his patrols after completing his homework (as his aunt had forbidden him from putting Spider-Man before his education), but his energy levels were more depleted than normal, resulting in him being almost constantly delirious with exhaustion.

“Yeah. It’s just really hard,” Peter said. “Especially this week. I did extra work every day that way I wouldn’t have to do it while I was here.”

“You did? Oh kid, you didn’t need to do that,” Tony said.

“I didn’t want to stress about it while we were at the park. And I was worried you or Aunt May wouldn’t let me come over if I still had homework to do and I didn’t wanna have to cancel another weekend with you,” Peter said, ducking his head slightly but still pressing his face against Tony’s shoulder.

“Oh gosh, Pete no, of course I would’ve let you come over. And I know for a fact your Aunt wouldn’t have cared either, she can tell school’s been taking a toll on you,” Tony said. “In fact she was the one who suggested I take you to the park. She wanted you to get a break.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “Well I guess I didn’t need to pull those all-nighters.”

“Did you just say all-nighters? Plural?”

“Ummmmm… yeah?” Peter said innocently, and Tony guessed he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh Peter,” Tony said, now wrapping both arms around him and pressing a kiss to his hair. “When was this? How long did you stay up kid?”

“Um… I woke up Wednesday morning, and I went to sleep again, uh… last night.” Peter said the last two words in barely above a whisper, and Tony felt him tense up next to him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, only releasing a heavy sigh and turning so he could properly hug Peter, his arms wrapped tight around him while Peter’s head rested on his chest. Peter relaxed, returning the hug eagerly.

“Well. Now I’m almost glad we can’t go to the park today,” Tony said.

“Huh? Why?” Peter asked, his voice muffled slightly by Tony’s shirt.

“Because roller coasters aren’t the kind of break you need. What you need is a calm, restful break. Get your energy back,” Tony said. “I’m thinking breakfast first, and then we do something like play a boardgame, or watch a movie.”

“Blanket fort?” Peter said hopefully.

“Blanket fort, huh? That might just be the perfect thing for you today,” Tony said with a grin. He released Peter and they both stood up. “How bout you get changed back into pajamas while I make you and I some breakfast? Ya hungry?”

Peter gave a shrug, pushing his hands into his pockets and glancing sadly out the window again before he spoke.

“Not really. I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, been too stressed out,” he said. Tony gave him a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair as he made his way towards the kitchen.

“Ya gotta eat, kiddo, that’s probably part of the reason you’ve felt so tired recently. That and of course staying awake for three days straight. I’ll make you somethin’ with lots of protein: Eggs, bacon, sausages, all the good stuff.” Tony glanced back long enough to see Peter’s eyes light up and his tongue poke out to lick his lips.

“Just as long as you don’t make me drink one of those weird protein shakes Aunt May has sometimes,” Peter said, wrinkling his nose at the thought.

“I won’t make you as long as you don’t come back out looking like an eighty-year-old blind monkey dressed you,” Tony said, gesturing to Peter’s clothes. Peter frowned defensively, but upon seeing his backwards and inside out shirt he burst into laughter. Tony grinned at him, feeling a soft warmth grow in his chest at the sound.

“You go get changed, Spiderling,” he said. “When you get back we’ll get you fed and then we’ll start on that blanket fort. Sound good?”

Peter grinned and nodded, then walked back to his room while Tony started breakfast.

~~~

Peter scarfed down his food eagerly when Tony set it on the table, finishing his plate before Tony was even halfway through his own.

“Jeez kid, did you chew any of that? I swear you’re like some kinda vacuum,” Tony said, his eyebrows raised. Peter laughed and leaned back in his chair.

“I just didn’t realize how hungry I was until you started talking about food!” he said. Tony snorted.

“Well if you want more there’s some bacon still in the pan,” he offered.

“Nah I’m full now. Thanks for making me breakfast, it was amazing,” Peter said as he cleared his plate.

“Heh, no problem kid, that’s what I’m here for,” Tony said. Peter put his dishes in the sink, but rather than coming back to the table, he started walking out towards the bedrooms.

“Now where the heck are you goin’?” Tony called to him, a frown forming on his face. Peter whirled around then jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the bedrooms.

“Supplies! Can’t build a blanket fort without the blankets!” he said.

“Ah, yes, of course, how silly of me to assume that we’d wait until everyone was done with breakfast,” Tony said with a lighthearted roll of the eyes. “And by everyone I mean me. I’m everyone.”

“Well hurry up then, everyone! We’ve still got movies to watch, we haven’t got all day!” Peter said before darting into one of the rooms. Tony laughed and quickly finished his breakfast before heading towards the hallway.

But before he could step a foot into it, an impossible mass of blankets and pillows blocked his way, almost knocking him over.

“What the--Jesus, Peter do we really need this much!?” Tony said, stumbling backwards and out of the way. Tony could barely see Peter under the pile, and even then it was just his legs. “I didn’t even know we had so many blankets.”

“Me either! Isn’t it awesome!?” Peter said, his voice muffled heavily by the mountain of fabric. “This is gonna be the best blanket fort ever!”

Tony laughed and followed Peter (or rather, the walking blanket mound), back to the living room. Together they spent the next half hour or so dragging chairs into the living room, draping sheets and blankets so they laid just right, and arranging pillows to weigh down the blankets so the fort didn’t cave in.

There were still plenty of “supplies”, as Peter called them, when they’d finished the structure of the fort, so they both dragged what was left of the blanket mountain inside their shelter and spread the soft fabric over the entire floor. By the time they finished, Tony could compare it to sitting inside a colorful cloud.

They both laid against a pile of pillows they’d fashioned into some sort of lumpy backrest and gazed around. It was a rather large space, big enough for both Peter and Tony to stretch their legs fully in front of them. But as Tony adjusted to sit up straight, his head touched the ceiling and fabric obscured his view.

“Yeah, that’s always a problem with blanket forts,” Peter said as Tony quickly bent down again to avoid disturbing the delicate structure of the fort. “The ceiling always bows in the middle. I’ve heard of some people propping up a stick in the center but then we run the risk of it getting knocked over and taking the whole fort down with it.”

“You sure are an expert on blanket forts,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, me ‘n Uncle Ben used to make them together all the time. We’d watch youtube videos and try and make the coolest blanket fort we could find. It was the best,” Peter said with a bit of a sad smile. Tony returned the grin and ruffled his hair affectionately before kissing his head.

“Well I sure as hell am not gonna be able to stand the saggy ceiling situation,” he said. “So you’re lucky you’re building a fort with a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, because I have an idea that’s gonna blow your mind.”

“Oh really?” Peter said as they crawled out of the fort.

“Yes, really, and you can keep your skepticism to yourself young man, I’ll have you know I have also made a blanket fort before,” Tony said.

“Uh-huh. Says the dude who tried to use the thickest blanket for the roof,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes. “Everyone knows you use the thin blankets and sheets for the top and all the thick blankets are used for the inside, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah yeah whatever. You go grab some snacks and set up the movie while I grab the mindblowing, cosmically amazing invention that’s going to solve all our problems,” Tony said, walking to the elevator and punching in the code for the lab.

“Alright, but since I’m the one getting the snacks, that means I get to have all the junk food I want!” Peter called over his shoulder as Tony stepped into the elevator.

“What? What messed up dimension did you pull that logic from?!” Tony said as Peter disappeared around the corner.

“Friday close the elevator doors!” Peter shouted from the kitchen.

“Wh--PETER--” But the doors closed before Tony could continue. He laughed to himself as the elevator made its way to the lab.

~~~

Peter’s face when he saw Tony leading DUM-E out of the elevator was priceless. He’d just poked his head out of the fort at the sound of the elevator dinging, and Tony relished in the surprise and excitement on his face.

“Told you I had a great idea,” Tony said with a smirk. Peter laughed and crawled fully out of the fort.

“I’ll never doubt you again Mr. Stark,” he said.

“Better not--Oi! Quit messin’ with that DUM-E, I’ve got a job for you,” Tony said, clapping to get the robot’s attention away from Tony’s book still lying on the couch. DUM-E turned around and whirred curiously. “Right, yes you, dork, I need you to pinch the fabric of the blankets right here--” Tony reached over and pointed to an area in the center of the roof of the fort “--and pull up slowly. You got that? Slowly, don't yank at it. And then, when I tell you, stop.”

DUM-E whirred and made a nodding motion with his claw. He hovered over the area that Tony had indicated before pinching the fabric in his claw and slowly pulling up. He froze immediately when Tony told him to, and after a few adjustments, the fort was finally complete.

“Good boy. Nice job DUM-E,” Tony said. DUM-E beeped happily at the praise, still staying perfectly still.

“Will he get tired doing that the whole time?” Peter asked, looking a little concerned.

“He’s a robot Peter, unlike you, he can stay up for three days straight no problem,” Tony said. Peter snorted.

“Fair enough,” he said. Then he crawled under the fort, and Tony followed after giving DUM-E a pat on his long mechanical arm.

The ceiling problem was definitely fixed, Tony could now sit up straight and see the TV with no difficulty, however that victory was slightly overshadowed by what else he saw inside.

It seems Peter hadn’t taken some snacks, instead going for all of them. Several bags of chips, at least three containers of cookies, and somewhere around five boxes of pop tarts were scattered about the fort. Peter was munching on a bag of Cheetos, his fingers already orange with the cheese dust.

“Jesus kid, are you stocking up for winter or something?” Tony said, still staring wide-eyed at all the food.

“I’m a growing boy Mr. Stark! Besides, you were the one who said I had to eat more,” Peter said, pointedly popping a Cheeto in his mouth.

“Well I kinda meant something healthy,” Tony muttered crawling to sit next to him. “But I’ll make an exception for today. Just don’t make yourself sick.”

“Whaaaat, I’ve never done that in my life, you must be thinking of some other kid,” Peter said, handing him a box of cinnamon pop tarts. Tony rolled his eyes and took one of the shiny packets.

“Oh yes, how silly of me. What’re we watchin’?”

“Star Wars.”

“Again?”

“Is that alright? It’s just, I’m still kinda tired and I’m not sure I can pay attention to anything new right now, but if you want we can--”

“No no, it’s fine kiddo. I’m happy to watch Star Wars with you,” Tony said with a small laugh. Peter grinned then grabbed the remote and pressed play. Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders and Peter snuggled into his side, still crunching on chips as the words A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… appeared on the screen.

Soon, one movie turned into two, and then three, then four. To be honest, Tony wasn’t sure how many they’d watched when Peter fell asleep, all he knew was when the credits started rolling on the final movie, Peter didn’t immediately jump up to put in the next DVD like he’d done every other time.

Tony looked down to see Peter sleeping soundly against his side, empty snack wrappers and bags littered next to him. Tony checked his watch.

It was only eight o’clock.

“Well I guess you really were tired, huh little spider?” Tony whispered. Peter still had dark circles under his eyes, though they weren’t quite as bad as yesterday. Tony gave him a kiss on the head before carefully untangling himself and laying Peter’s head on a soft pillow. He spent a couple minutes throwing out all the snack wrappers and putting away all the food they didn’t end up eating, before crawling back into the fort and pulling one of the heavier blankets over Peter’s sleeping form. Then he laid down next to him, and laughed softly when Peter squirmed closer to him in his sleep.

“Sleep good kid,” Tony whispered.

~~~

Tony didn’t think he’d been sleeping for very long when he woke up. At first he wasn’t actually sure why he’d woken up, until he heard the sound of whimpering. Cries that sounded a lot like Peter’s.

“H-help…”  

“Peter?”

“Help… help I’m stuck…” Tony’s heart sank instantly.

“Peter! Peter wake up!” Tony said, his voice croaking from sleep.

“Help, help I can’t breathe--I can’t breathe!” Peter said, twisting in his sleep as his voice rose to a shout.

“Peter!” Tony grabbed his shoulder and his eyes snapped open, shining with fear and tears. He stared for a moment before suddenly pulling himself close to Tony’s chest and burying his face into Tony’s shirt.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright Pete, you’re safe, I promise,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around him and stroking his hair. Peter’s breathing eased after a few more minutes of reassurance, and Tony could feel his muscles relaxing under his arms.

“I--I’m sorry I woke you up,” Peter said, his voice trembling slightly.

“No, you don’t need to apologize kiddo, it’s not your fault,” Tony said. “You think you can go back to sleep now?”

Peter didn’t answer for a moment.

“I… I’m scared. I don’t want to, can we just get up now? We could watch another movie…”

Tony sighed and looked at his watch.

“Peter it’s two am. You’ve only been asleep four hours. You stayed awake for three days kiddo, I’m not letting you get any less than twelve hours tonight,” Tony said. Peter bit his lip and looked down, trying to hide the misery on his face. Tony started to wrack his brain for ideas on how to help him when a high whistling noise startled them both.

The ceiling of the fort suddenly dropped, bowing inwards again and Peter flinched hard, like he’d been punched.

“You alright?” Tony said, looking down at him in surprise.

“I--I thought the ceiling was gonna fall on me,” he mumbled, and even in the darkness Tony could see an embarrassed blush rising in his cheeks. Tony felt anger flare inside him and he released Peter, pushing himself up.

“Dammit DUM-E,” he muttered. He could hear the robot wheeling around noisily outside the fort. Tony crawled out and stood up, his fists clenched and his lips pulled in a snarl.

DUM-E was by the couch, struggling to pick up the book Tony had been reading this morning and whistling in frustration.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Tony said as loudly as he could while still keeping his voice at a whisper. DUM-E just kept grasping at the book, ignoring him. Tony stepped forward and snatched up the book. It was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Peter had been trying to get him to read the series for months and since Tony hadn’t been able to see much of his intern lately, he decided to give it a try. He’d told Peter it was just to get him off his back about it but really, he’d just missed having his Spiderling around. He ended up loving it though, and he was almost done with the third book.

“What do you want with this!?” Tony said, holding out the book and shaking it at him. “It’s a book DUM-E, you can’t even read!”

The robot whirred impatiently and turned to face Tony. He reached forward and poked the book with his claw, then pointed directly at the fort.

“…I have no clue what the hell that means.”

DUM-E made a noise that could’ve been a sigh if he had lungs. He jabbed at the book again, then this time at Tony’s chest, then insistently at the fort again.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this,” Tony muttered, but DUM-E whistled angrily and suddenly wheeled off in the direction of the bedrooms. “Now what’re you doing!?”

The robot only whistled again and went into one of the rooms. Tony waited for a second before growing impatient and starting back to the fort, deciding to berate him for scaring Peter in the morning. But just as he kneeled down, Tony heard DUM-E whirr indignantly before something soft smacked him in the face.

“What the--” Tony held up the cloth that’d hit him, and instantly recognized Peter’s mask. DUM-E prodded the book, then the mask.

Tony suddenly understood.

“Oh. I see. That’s… actually a really good idea. Thank you. Sorry I got mad buddy,” Tony said. He patted the robot’s claw apologetically, and DUM-E forgave him easily with a wave, then turned and pinched the fabric of the fort again, pulling it up back into its original position.

Tony went back into the fort, feeling guilt at both snapping at DUM-E, but also for leaving Peter alone. Peter had sat up and was hugging a pillow, his eyes still glistening with tears.

“Hey kiddo,” Tony said. “Not feeling any better?”

Peter opened his mouth, but words seemed to fail him so he shook his head instead.

“Well, DUM-E had the idea that I should read to you. To help you fall asleep. So, how do you feel about The Prisoner of Azkaban?”

Peter’s face actually lit up at that, and he wiped the tears out of his eyes quickly.

“That--That’s my favorite one actually,” he said with a small sniff.

“Is it now?”

“Yeah. I like Professor Lupin. He reminds me of you. Like how he helped Harry when he got attacked by the dementor, and taught him magic so he could protect himself. That’s like how you give me hugs when I’m sad or scared, and you tell me to sleep more and stuff.”

“Huh. I guess that’d make you The Boy Who Lived, huh?”

“Well, I am really good at barely avoiding death,” Peter said. Tony laughed softly.

“I suppose since it’s your favorite, we should start from the beginning then,” he said. They both laid back, and Tony put on his glasses, activating night vision so he could read without a light. Peter laid next to him, waiting for the story to begin.

“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways…”  

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist! I don’t mind at all either way!

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

I have a drabble request for you, no pressure ofcourse,

Basically either of them is gone for a long time for a mission or project , there is no chance for communication between them ,.. yes i am asking for a emotional reunion.

thank you

Thanks to smells like teen Spirit for putting me in the right mood for this fic..

1460 days

TW- ANGST | hurt comfort |

With the light's out it's less dangerous, it was better, it was nice, he could almost pretend draco was here with him. It was easier when he laid in an Empty bed he made yesterday, both the pillows still very intact but he couldn't pretend when the air didn't felt the same, when the warmth didn't flood him, when he didn't heard the soft humming, he couldn't pretend he didn't feel cold, he couldn't pretend that his heart felt like an empty box lying in an attic..

But it was easier to pretend because he told him to. He told him it would be easier if he just pretended that he wasn't alone but how could he not. How could he not feel like he wasn't alone ? He was so alone and all his head ran was the painted picture of draco getting on board the train and going away.

Harry sighed to himself before he left a quivering breath, it was Only day one, there were 1460 days more to go.

____________________________________

" its fine you know. I'm doing fine. But I hope you won't mind I wear a lot of your clothes, they smell nice. You might also need to buy a new cereal box, I ate it all, they're good. You were right. Yes I did the laundry, It was hard at first but I did it. And cooking,ugh, I'm still learning to make rogan josh like you do, it never tastes the same. But you know everything else is fine, I spend a lot of my time with teddy, he asks about you by the way and- and -"

But harry couldn't go on. He gulped down his beer again, watching Draco's Empty chair in front of him with a faint smile until that very faint smile turned into little sobs. He laughed at himself in tears but couldn't stop crying.

" I miss you but what do you know, you're just an empty chair " harry laughed again as if it was humorous but it perhaps seemed funny now since he'd be doing this for days, it cured his heart only for a little while, it did.

" 1300 more to go " harry laughed again and chugged the rest of his beer until he fell asleep right there on the couch.

___________________________________

" can you make those smiles uncle Draco used to make ?" Teddy asked as Harry took of his apron.

" of course " harry whispered before he took the chocolate syrup and made a smile upon teddy's pancakes just like Draco used to.

" when is he coming back uncle harry ?" He asked again. Only if the Little kid knew what it did to Harry's heart, if only he knew he was stabbing Harry's heart with the fork in his hand, if only he knew that his heart had started bleeding and was creating a pool, if only he knew that Harry was controlling his emotions, if only he knew, if only he knew.

" 1100 more days love " harry replied.

" you keep a count of each day ?" He asked innocently.

Harry smiled before he nodded.

" you must really love him " teddy said and digged into his pancakes.

Harry stared behind teddy as if Draco was standing there with a small painfully smiled smeared across his face until that hallucination of Draco vanished and harry was very much reminded of his absence.

_______________________________________

" how are you ?" Harry sniffed " I'm good, I just miss you a lot. It's our anniversary, do you remember ?You're good right ? Teddy grew a little too old you know. Everyone missed you at his birthday. Molly gave me this sweater with your initials on it. They're not as good as your sweaters but I like it. It reminds me that you're here with me. Can you try to come back sooner ? Please, it hurts. Everything feels empty, even me.. please " Harry cried as he wiped off his own tears fell upon their photo frame they got just before Draco left for mission.

But harry was past the phase where he could pretend anymore. He missed him so much that every nerve of him that ran from his head to his toe, it begged to feel alive again. He couldn't do this anymore, pretending to talk to him, his thing's, his own pictures. He was tired of it but it was all that remained of him and it was driving harry insane. He missed him every night he went to an empty bed, In every flower he puts in the vase, in everytime he cleans, in every time he watched TV alone, on every holiday, in every couple he saw on the road, in every time he made his special Friday breakfast, in every time he breathed his sweater, in every time he showered, in every time he looked at the sky, In every time he walked into an empty home, in everytime he stood under the freezing rain, in everytime he woke up and saw an empty bed, in every music he heard, in everytime he danced alone sadly to his favorite music, in everytime he watched their wedding tape, in everytime he saw their pictures together, in everytime he walked passed the Hyde park, in every lyrics he heard, he missed him in every breath he took and pretending didn't work anymore.

" 700 more days to go " harry Whispered to himself as he tried sleeping in those lonely nights yet again.

____________________________________

" what ?"

" I tried to get out of it if it's any consolation harry. I don't want to do this but I have to, I have no other option " Draco had said.

Harry huffed before he crossed his arms " for how long ?"

" 4 years " Draco replied softly.

" 4 years ? Are you crazy ! No, Draco, you can't..you simply can't " Harry threw his hands in the air aggressively.

" I'm sorry harry, I have to, I can't get out of it. I'm really really sorry " Draco tried to make harry understand as he pulled harry closer to him and wrapped his arms around him..

"but Draco it's 4 years with no contact, how am I going to survive?" Harry asked worried.

" like I will have to " Draco replied, nuzzling his face into Harry's neck.

Harry shook his head before he kissed Draco's eyes and let the news sink into them.

_________________

" you'll drop me off right ?" Draco asked finally.

" are you trying to wreck me ? I can't watch you go Draco. I can't do that " harry replied.

" oh "

" love. No..I want to drop you off but I simply can't look at you going away. The thought of you going away alone wrecks me, it pains me and to watch you go away , I can't do that draco. I can't. I'm sorry love but I can't " harry replied.

" I'd liked if you would've came " Draco replied shrugging, his eyes brimmed with the usual tears like those of harry's.

Harry released a quivering breath before he stood up from the bed and paced to Draco and wrapped his arms around his torso, kissing the top of his head " then I will "

Harry Hummed to himself in low mummers his favourite song reminiscing Draco going away.

" but he's been gone for so long ?" Ron had asked

Harry only shook his head as he walked away. Nobody understood what it felt like. He felt lonely thinking of how only in this whole wide world Draco knew what was it like to have your love gone away for years you can grow so much in. People only assumed he must've adapted to living alone, adapted to not having talked to your lover, adapted of the normal moving life but there wasn't a day went by when Harry didn't miss the gallon out of him. He missed him too much and he Only wished people Would've understood.

He hummed again as he looked down at his lap to see the watch Striking day " 360 "

" I'll see you soon Draco, I'll see you soon " harry mummered to himself as he shut his eyes again in restless sleep but slept knowing he was going to see him soon, very soon.

_______________________________________

He looked at himself in the mirror, Patting his cheeks with shaky hands, wiping away the tears that didn't seem to stop. He breathed out a heavy quivery breath, rubbing his hands together, sniffing before he moved away from the mirror, picked up his trench coat and with much difficulty left the grey like house.

Harry Whispered incoherent words to himself all way long, practicing his smile, his speech, his movements for when he'd finally see Draco again. He practiced it all way long, even checking his breath until he reached the station and Draco hadn't Returned.

" he didn't return ? What do you mean he didn't return ?" Harry screamed at one of the crew members, his heart in a villains hand who kept plunging dagger into it over and over again.

" I- I- I don't know " the man stammered in fear and stumbled away running from harry.

Harry collapsed onto the ground, crying Loudly with a little care in the world of people watching him. Draco didn't return, he didn't..

Harry had prepared himself for everything, even to Draco forgetting him but the thought of never seeing Draco, he never prepared himself for that simply because he had too much faith but when he didn't step down from even the last of the trains, he cried like he never had before, his throat going sore from all the screaming, his eyes hurting with the unstoppable tears.

" harry, let's go, honey, let go " he heard faintly before someone helped his numb self up and walked him to the car. He doesn't even remember when he stopped crying and fell into numbness, he doesn't even remember how long he had been at the station or how what time or day it was, he didn't care. Draco hadn't came back and harry wasn't ready for it.

" he'll be fine Harry. Don't worry " it seemed like Hermione but harry cared lesser and lesser as his head thumped against the car window and he started crying again in silent tears.

He doesn't even remember when they reached his place and gave him food to eat, he didn't care, and he doesn't even want to..

" harry please" they begged but harry got up numbly from the chair and locked himself into the bedroom, sliding down the door and crying in lost Years, memories, in reminiscent of how Little time they had until he suddenly he heard soft whispers from against the door.

" love, harry "

But harry ignored thinking it was his mind playing tricks.

" its really me, I'm back "

Harry looked around the room looking for any signs of faint hallucinations but when he heard the breathing from other side of the door he stood up with a jerk, unlocking the door and his breath choked in his throat as he saw a very real Draco standing there with open arms and harry collapsed into Draco with so much force that they fell over the ground and he cried.

" I'm back love, everything is going to be fine, it's alright " he Whispered faintly as his voice broke too..

But harry only cried Loudly, in his chest, wetting the clothes Draco had been wearing. He didn't care the fact that they were still on the ground or that they were Lying before the bedroom door or that the cold air was sweeping in because of the open door, he only cared about those arms that wrapped around him, that smell, those hands, those body, him. He only cared about him.

" I thought I lost you " harry finally Whispered in sobs.

"I know. I'm sorry dear but I'm back and I'm never going away, ever. I promise " he too cried as he ran his hands through Harry's hair again.

" I missed you " Harry cried hugging him tighter.

But this time Draco couldn't respond and he cried more harshly, nuzzling his head into Harry's shoulder.

" I love you Harry, I'm never putting you through his pain again. Ever.. I'm sorry "

"you better not " Harry cried..

" I love you Draco. I love you so much " harry lastly said and he didn't spoke anything else, letting Draco take care of him in those tender arms, telling him everything was fine. He missed him.

The ignored clock on Harry's Wrist halted at the number zero and it never moved again.

Thank you @drarrywords for helping me through this..

300 follower's appreciation dialogue prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Mamihlapinatapai Or The Season Of Longing

A/n: Here is another fic. Since it's been raining like crazy and I have spent way too much time indoors because of the weather, I decided to write this. The poem featured in this fic is called Lluvia by Jorge Luis Borges. I finally figured out how to put things under the cut so that my followers don't have to scroll through a large post 😅 It's another piece set before Doofus Rick and the reader were dating. Feel free to check out the other fics in my Masterpost.

In this fic the reader isn't the only one longing

___________

Imagine that instead of a blue sky, there was an off white, almost grey sky, and what should've been wispy white clouds were blankets of rumbling thunderstorms without a drop of rain; that was how you thought you might've felt. There was a name to this feeling, but you weren't sure what to call it; as though you were missing something you couldn't place; not sadness or grief, but whatever came in between. No, nothing bad had happened, and there hadn't been any disagreements between you and Rick, but something did occur which fed this alien feeling. It seemed that only a few days ago you were alright, but then you invited him over and he had a chance to look over those books you had mentioned. That day he had returned home from work and came over right after; offering his best of smiles and a piece of candy from his labcoat pocket as soon as he crossed the threshold of your doorway; it was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was charming all the same.

With swiftness, you had led him to your hallway closet so that you could bring down the box of books sitting on the upper shelf; that was where you kept a great portion of your father's old books. Father had been a fan of languages and botany, but ventured into the bizarre mystery from time to time; being a master of neither, you had hidden them away for a later date; mostly because the memories were more disheartening then they space they took up. With all your might, you stood on the tips of your toes in a vain attempt to reach, but your fingers barely brushed the edge of it; you should’ve just used the step ladder. It was Rick's small huff of effort which alerted you to his nearness as he unexpectedly stretched up and grabbed said box when you had a little trouble. Goodnaturedly, he carried it towards the kitchen while you took a moment to calm your girlish heart.

Coaxed away from your thoughts by the dusty cardboard and the delighted guest, you nodded lightly to give him the go-ahead to help himself. His gentle presence made him a joy to study; not in the way he examined things in the world or of the world, but in the way one does when fascinated by a butterfly or a fresh bloom hidden in an otherwise barren bush; he was a miracle. With care he pulled out one book after another, glancing through their pages and making piles for which one's he'd like to borrow. In a way he seemed to belong to this house; as though what wasn't found within pages of novels could be sought, and felt beyond reason; flowing calmly and relished in these favorable moments. Although it wasn't much, and that borrowing books could be of little consequence except to the reader itself, you hated to see him go.

Now thinking of it days later, you found yourself wondering about its significance as well as a plethora of other things as you walked to the store and back. You hadn't needed anything in particular, but you felt slightly better being outdoors; the fresh air allowed you to believe you could think better. The sounds of light traffic and grass being cut somewhere along in the neighborhood felt timeless as you walked around the corner, almost home. The wind blew, rustling your clothes and you narrowly lost the receipt that hung out of your pocket, but that didn’t bother you.

Rain clouds were rolling in from the west and you hoped it wouldn't rain before you reached home. And the closer you got, the more you could see the familiar house of your lovable neighbor. A smile couldn't help but stretch across your face at the thought and you hoped he was home so that you could ask if he'd had a chance to look those books over but that alien feeling bloomed again; the sinking, drowning, heavy feeling. How you wanted to be with him despite what reason thought was logical. The dance of your heart would've loved nothing more than to place a dozen or more kisses upon his smile lines while he stammered into the next week. Oh, your foolish heart had taken on a personification of its own these days; speaking and thinking of itself and it's wants like a second brain; draining you whenever it appeared.

Yet, before you knew it you had reached home and dropped off what you had bought before stepping out again. From your front yard, you could see that he was in the garage and you questioned whether you should go over and attempt to alleviate this feeling; it’d vanish whenever you were with him. You must’ve stood there thinking for a while as to what ought to be done for the pitter-patter of rain broke this trance-like state and you ran back towards your front porch. How silly you have become as of late with this strange crush of yours. Weren’t you past these sort of schoolgirl feelings? Perhaps, but it was more than that.

You sunk into your wicker bench and listened to the sound of the rain as it hit the roof and walkway. The earthy scent of the lawn and the splash of puddles as cars drove by was a welcomed distraction. A nap didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Yet, gentle footsteps and the sound of a closed umbrella woke another sort of feeling within you; that of hope.

“Golly, it - it sure is raining cats and dogs t-today.” he commented.

The words were out of your mouth as soon as you were aware of him; of this creature who walked out of a daydream. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you.”

“Huh? Are you alright? Did s-something happen?”

“I'm fine,” you answered; all at once conscious of him and your surroundings. “it’s just...I thought about coming over to ask if you checked out any of the books but it started to rain.”

“Th-that's part of the reason I'm here,” he confessed. “I-I had noticed you went out for a-a walk and wanted to make sure you had come home safely.”

“As you can see, I made it back in one piece. Although, I did get my hair wet. Though, that's the least of my problems.”

“Do you mind if I-I-I take a seat?”

Patting the space beside you, you nodded. “Not at all.”

He set his umbrella to the side before he seated himself and turned towards you. His warmth radiated from him and being as tall as he was, the bench might’ve been too low to the ground since his legs seemed to stick out too much, but he made no complaint. From his inner labcoat pocket, he pulled out a small book. “I thought y-y-you might enjoy this.”

“A book?”

Handing it to you, he commented. “I thought y-you might enjoy this collection of poems. I um - I bookmarked my favorites but I'd like t-t-to know what your thoughts about them would be.”

You knew this whimsical creature was well-read in many respects, but you hadn’t given much thought to the possibility of including works of a more abstract nature. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Though, I hope you don't mind me asking. Do you read works like this often? It's not because I find it strange. Honestly, I find it fascinating and wonderful that you would even consider it, but I ask because I thought….well, I thought you only read serious works related to your work.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he explained. “I read whenever I-I-I find the time and it uh - it usually doesn’t matter what the subject may be. In the pursuit of knowledge, one reads everything. For example, th-the terms and conditions for some computer programs or limited warranties at times list amusing reasons why y-you might be able to get a replacement for a damaged product. It keeps things interesting.”

“I see. It certainly makes sense.”

With a smile, he sighed with contentment as he looked towards the street. “Boy, th-this weather reminds me of a certain poem. It's called um - it's called Lluvia. That's the Spanish word for rain.”

“That's right,” you remembered; his last name should’ve been a reminder enough. “you can speak Spanish. I forget sometimes since you only talk to me in English. So, tell me, how does this poem go?”

“Please forgive me since my Spanish is a-a little rusty.”

Taking a deep breath, he recited calmly. “Bruscamente l-la tarde se ha aclarado, porque y-ya cae la lluvia minuciosa. Cae o cayó. La lluvia es una c-cosa qué sin duda sucede en el pasado. Quien la oye caer ha recobrado, el t-tiempo en que la suerte venturosa. Le r-r-reveló una flor llamada rosa y el curioso color del c-colorado. Esta lluvia que ciega los cristales, alegrará en p-p-perdidos arrabales. Las negras uvas de una parra en cierto. Patio que ya no existe. La mojada, t-tarde me trae la voz, la voz deseada, de mi padre que vuelve y que no ha muerto.”

You stared at this man, amazed by his fluency and ability to fascinate you with the simplest things. Yet again, a reason to be marveled by him. “Whoa, I don't know what you said, but it sounded beautiful when you said it.”

Turning towards you, his smile seemed brighter than usual albeit a bit sheepish. "It's n-nothing special."

"But it is, especially since you can think and speak in more than one language. I can't do that."

"I-I can teach you if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. You're busy enough as it is, but I appreciate the thought. You really are so incredibly smart."

"And you…eres maravillosa."

"What?”

His smile faltered a bit, and he thought to himself for a bit on what he was about to say before his smile returned; albeit more gently. “Eres amable y-y dulce. No soy digno de una amiga como tu.”

“Rick,” you started; confused as to why there seemed to be some sort of admission that you weren’t able to understand. “all the poetic talk is lovely, but I don't think it's fair if you reply in a way I can't understand."

"Si pudieras entenderme," he sighed, wringing his hands in the nervous way he did. "me pregunto qué creerías si te expresara cuánto me preocupo por ti."

Raising from the bench, he said to himself. "Si puedo llegar a la luna, algun dia podria...¿Q-que estoy haciendo?"

"Rick?"

“I’m o-okay. I uh - I zoned out there for a second. I’m sorry.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He studied you for a moment longer; a world of words unsaid in his melancholic glances. Was something secretly hurting him like it was hurting you? You could only wonder as thoughts were drowned out by the sound of the rain.

———————————-

It was warm and comfortable with him sitting beside you. His presence always provided a sense of calm that was softer and sweeter than that of the sedatives that eased your anxiety. Why you could fall asleep right here if it weren’t for that fact that you’d be mortified if you allowed it to happen.

“Are you a-a big fan of the rain?” he wondered.

This question had come after a half-hour of companionable silence. “Hmm, it’s not the rain so much as the memories that accompany it.”

“Do y-you want to talk about it?”

“Only if you don’t mind hearing it.”

“I-I don’t mind.” He reassured you.

“Well,” you started. “my dad enjoyed rainy days since he said the plants almost seemed to smile when rainwater hit their leaves.”

“Th-that’s a nice thought.“

“Yeah, I thought so too. When it rains like this, and I’m watching it fall,” you softened; feeling lighter because you had someone to share your thoughts with. “it feels like I’m looking through a curtain. It’s not completely see-through, but the shapes I can see appear softer and more mysterious like how you must’ve appeared when you showed up. Too bad I wasn’t paying attention.”

Oh, you did not just say that out loud. “Or something like that.” You added.

If he had noticed you had tripped over your words then he gave no indication of it. “Gosh, I-I never thought of it that way b-before. I usually see it as part of the pr-precipitation cycle and it smells nice, doesn't it?”

“It does. I wouldn’t mind bottling up this scent, but then it might lose what makes it special.”

Yet, if you could bottle up his scent, it would’ve been nice to keep nearby just in case you wanted a little piece of him.

“That um - that reminds me,” he brightened. “I had baked some mandarin scones before walking over tonight, and I-I-I thought you’d like t-t-t-t-to try them but I didn’t want to risk them getting wet. I-I thought we could share some over tea tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”

Tea time with Rick was like what others did over rounds of drinks; it was to unwind and talk about the day; minus the drunkenness and the unforeseen embarrassment. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Gee, I um - I was supposed to, but there was a shift change. Actually, I have a shift t-t-tonight in a-about an hour, but I had wanted to make sure you were alright before I left.”

“Why?”

“Because I-I thought you were going t-to walk over.”

So he had thought the same thing. “Oh, well like I said earlier I had planned to or thought to, but the weather put a damper on things.”

“Yeah.”

“Though, isn’t it funny that we both had the same thought?”

He smiled at that. “It's because gr-great minds think alike.”

What right did he have to be this adorable you thought. All you could do was smile up at him and fight the urge to run your fingers through what appeared to be soft hair; as odd as you had initially thought his haircut was when you met him, you couldn’t imagine him any other way. Still, drawn to his bright, kind eyes, you wondered if you were being attracted by some invisible force to test the limits of this friendship, and yet you knew well enough that now wasn’t the time. Following a slow blink of his, you mentioned without looking away. “Now that we have gotten to see each other, it's probably time to let you go. I wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

“Y-you’re right.” he straightened; jumping up on his feet with much more agility then seemed possible for someone so mature. “Until next time.”

There he was leaving again when you didn’t want him to. Still, you had no right or claim to him. At least, not yet. “See you tomorrow.”

Grabbing his umbrella, he motioned to open it but paused, and slowly, but surely turned back; his smile almost boyish. “Gosh, I-I will see you tomorrow, right?”

Clutching the book of poems to your breast, you giggled. “Whichever way it may be, we will. I promise.”

Fin

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: “Girlfriend Material.” (Brick/Blossom)

February Fic Prompt #21 - Author’s Choice

For the wonderful @carriedreamerx, a fellow Reds die-hard and all-around A+ lady. Also can be read as kind of a part 2 to an earlier one-shot called Shook.

Summary: Blossom is having a bad day. Brick accidentally makes her feel better.

xxx

The four most dreaded words in the English language haunted Blossom after Julie’s party on Friday. They’d ruined the night, causing her to leave at nine p.m. alone, she didn’t want to drag Bubbles home early just because of her. They’d ruined her weekend plans—movie night with her sisters and Robin, studying at her favorite table at the public library, and Sunday family brunch. Through it all, Blossom was quiet and morose, and no one could get her to talk about why.

Why.

Those four stupid, little words.

They were just words, sticks and stones, as she often would tell Bubbles whenever she got upset about teasing that went too far.

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

Just four words.

xxx

Monday’s alarm went off at six a.m. sharp, and Blossom rose on autopilot to brush her teeth and get ready for school. She was halfway through applying a bit of mascara when she realized Bubbles wasn’t awake, and the Professor hadn’t called up to announce breakfast. And then she remembered.

Fall Break.

Blossom slumped over the sink, heavy and lethargic, the tube of mascara limp in her hand. How could she forget they had a whole week off from classes? Where was her head?

Her reflection was washed out and pale in the morning gloom through the bathroom window, and she looked ridiculous with only one eye made up. Sighing, she hastily did the other one, put the mascara away, and went to get dressed. Bubbles slept like a rock on her stomach even through Blossom’s alarm. The girl could have slept through an earthquake, no doubt. Buttercup, however, shifted in her bed.

“Going somewhere?” she called in a raspy, sleep-addled voice.

Blossom smiled and smoothed her sister’s mussed bangs. Even though there was no longer any visible trace of the many injuries she had sustained fighting Butch on Friday, Buttercup would need a couple more days of rest to get back to her regular shape. The IV drip next to her bed held a bag of Chemical X, nearly drained as it fed her through the night little by little.

“I forgot we’re on break,” Blossom said softly so as not to wake Bubbles.

“You nerd.”

Buttercup’s eyes drooped, but a smile tugged at her chapped lips. Blossom grabbed her half empty glass from the nightstand and refilled it in the bathroom sink.

“Go back to sleep,” Blossom said, leaving the fresh glass of water on the nightstand.

Buttercup turned over in bed and pulled the covers over her head. “Way ahead of you.”

That was that. Blossom floated to the window and quietly unhooked the latch. The Professor was moving around downstairs, but she didn’t much feel like talking to him right now. No doubt he would press her about Friday again, as he’d tried several times this weekend. The sun was rising steadily in the distance, casting the suburbs in a strange, dewy glow.

“Hey,” Buttercup called.

Blossom paused.

“Whatever it is, it can’t hurt you. You’re a badass.”

Blossom bit her trembling lip. It was suddenly hard to breathe. She glanced back at Buttercup, but she was under the covers with her back to her. Even so, Blossom could not bring herself to speak. If she did, she might say too much.

She slipped out of the window, pulled it closed behind her, and flew towards Townsville.

xxx

Logically speaking, the sun rises in the east, days turn to weeks, and nothing lasts forever. Not thunderstorms, not youth, and not even pain.

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

Blossom flew over Townsville waking up. It had rained last night, and the fog was thick over the bay as it battled the encroaching sun. She’d read a short story once about monsters in the mist. Gruesome, Lovecraftian horror, the type she never sought out but couldn’t refuse when it was a recommendation from her English teacher. There were no monsters in the mists shrouding Townsville of course, but she imagined them all the same, lurking voyeurs.

One day, she wouldn’t even remember this morning, this feeling, the quiet so high up insulating her from the city sounds far below, tires screeching and jackhammers crunching and a thousand feet scuttling. Logically speaking, none of it mattered.

But it still hurt.

She wasn’t hungry, and she wasn’t cold. She was rarely cold, being a block of ice herself. The ice queen. An unoriginal and lazy moniker, but one that stuck among her peers. Smart, studious Blossom. Commander and the leader, it’s lonely at the top. Come down from your snowcapped throne now and again to walk among us poor plebeians, why don’t you?

They weren’t all like that. The ones who mattered, mattered. Usually it didn’t bother her anyway. Sticks and stones, as they said, but they also said the pen is mightier than the sword. So which is it?

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

Logically speaking, people told themselves what they needed to hear to make themselves believe everything was fine.

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

Just four paper-thin words.

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

“You’re not girlfriend material.”

Just four soul-crushing, little words.

xxx

Logically speaking, there were no monsters in the mist.

xxx

Brick wasn’t sure why he went.

Up at the ass-crack of dawn because his alarm was set to repeat and he’d forgotten to turn it off for the Fall Break week, there was no going back to sleep now that the damage was done. Boomer flung his pillow at Brick’s bed to try to kill that screeching alarm, hit him in the face, and suffered a very hard, very warranted shove off the sofa.

“Dude, what the fuuuuuuck?” Boomer whined from the floor in his boxers.

“What the fuck do you mean, what the fuck?” Brick demanded. “Why are you sleeping on my couch?”

Boomer rubbed his tired eyes. “Butch’s snoring is so loud since he started that X drip and I can’t take it anymore!”

“Not my problem.” Brick went to his closet to pull on a fresh shirt. Fuck, it was cold this morning. He grabbed a hoodie from a hanger.

“Briiiiiick,” Boomer whined. “I’m so tired.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I’m going out. You better not be in here when I get back.”

Boomer was already crawling back onto his couch as he left his room to use the bathroom though. Whatever, it was too early to deal with Boomer’s crap. The two-bedroom apartment was claustrophobic this morning, like the walls were closing in on Brick, and he had the immediate urge to get out.

After he cleaned up, threw on his cap, and grabbed his keys, he took off into the early morning sky with no destination in mind as long as it wasn’t home.

Fall Break. What was he supposed to do for an entire week? At least Butch was out of commission paying for the consequences of his hormonal jack-assery. Boomer had his friends to hang with, but he could get clingy when the brothers were confined to home without a schedule. And Brick was pretty sure he remembered Wes saying he was going to be out of town with his folks, so that left Boomer best friend-less for the foreseeable future.

Hence, Brick wasn’t sure why he went to the ruined Shankaplex lot. Only, his head was full of all these useless thoughts and he wasn’t thinking straight and anyway it was hard to miss with that enormous fucking crane they’d brought in to help clear up the remains of the movie theater parking lot Butch and Blossom had completely demolished in their fight.

She was already there.

Her red hair cut through the grey of the broken asphalt and concrete like the sun through the rain-cold fog, but little about Blossom was warm. Brick frowned at the thought. He hadn’t seen her since Julie’s party, and even then only for a few minutes. She’d left really early.

She sat alone on the roof of the neighboring Cooper’s Market watching a team of construction workers in orange vests slowly working to clear the mess of tree trunks forcibly uprooted during the fight. They were scattered like dominoes on the asphalt. Brick’s eyes traveled from the back of Blossom’s head to a particularly deep crater where she’d stood towering over Butch, cowed like Brick had hardly ever seen him before, her eyes red with power as they lifted to meet his.

He barely touched down when she sensed him and turned. Her eyes were red, like before, but not with power.

Blossom hastily wiped her puffy eyes and the few tears wetting her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

Brick froze where he stood. Every instinct in him told him to flee, get the fuck out of there, her tears were not for him to see. Heart pounding in his ears, he clenched his suddenly clammy fists because he couldn’t think of anything else to do with them. “Nothing,” he said, like a total idiot.

Fuck, she’s fucking crying, what the fuck?

“What are you doing here?” he asked, still in full-on idiot mode.

Oh thank god, she’d turned away. He couldn’t see her crying anymore, but that little sniffle sent a chilling pang down his spine that was almost painful. He suppressed a growl at the sensation.

“My alarm woke me up,” she said glumly. “I forgot to turn it off for the week.”

Brick stood petrified behind her, and it was a wonder that she couldn’t hear his heart hammering loud enough to give him a headache. Her banal words were a lifeline he clung to through the noise, and he swallowed hard.

“Me too,” he said. “Habit.”

She nodded, as if the effort to respond was too great, and it was the respite he needed to calm the fuck down. He considered just leaving, but she’d acknowledged him, and leaving now would look like running. Brick didn’t run, especially not from her.

Feet leaden, he shuffled to the edge of the roof and sank down a respectable arm’s length away from her. She said nothing, and their legs dangled over the edge overlooking the red and white striped awning. A big, neon sign advertising the grocery store buzzed and glowed yellow at the other end of the roof. Brick took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and put it back on. Still, she said nothing, so he glanced at her.

She was in jeans and a plain, white tank top, no frills and not even her usual pearl studs she always wore. Her hair was long and loose, draping her shoulders. Brick shivered just looking at her. Wasn’t she cold?

“How’s Butch?” she asked.

It took Brick a moment to comprehend her question. She was looking right at him. Despite a little residual puffiness, her eyes were dry as a bone.

“Sleeping it off,” Brick said.

She nodded and went back to watching the construction workers.

Brick racked his brain for something to say to her. “It’s actually kind of nice having him out of commission. Everything’s quieter.”

She hugged one knee to her chest and shrank in on herself, and he bit his tongue.

Great.

He’d never had a problem talking to Blossom before. She was just Blossom, the uptight, annoying, micromanager he had to put up with in all his classes and at some social functions where their friend circles overlapped. She was just always there, always shrewd, always ready to shut him down if he so much as breathed at her funny. But this was like pulling teeth. What had changed?

Well, he knew exactly what had changed. Right there in that crater, in fact. He could picture it so clearly, could hear the pride in her voice as she exuded her total and absolute control like she’d been born to do it, and he’d never quite noticed before. How had he never noticed before? She was always right there.

“Can I ask you something?” She tugged on her hair. Nervous habit.

Why is she nervous?

Brick dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Am I girlfriend material?”

He stared, waiting for her to crack, but Blossom never cracked.

Oh.

She was serious.

“Girlfriend material?” he repeated. It took every ounce of his incredible self-control to keep his voice neutral as he studied her impassive face.

“Girlfriend material,” she confirmed.

And damn, could she be cold when she wanted to be. Not even her tears could shake her now as she watched him, waiting on his answer like they were at war and it was go or get out of the way.

“To a specific person?”

“Objectively speaking.”

“That’s not an objective question.”

“Sure it is.”

He frowned. “No, it’s not.”

“Western beauty standards would suggest otherwise.”

“So you want to know if you’re hot?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“But it’s the standard you’re basing your question on.”

She wrung her fingers in her hair. “I guess it’s related. But that’s entirely my point. There are certain traits or standards that inform what makes someone girlfriend material.”

“Objectively speaking.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Brick considered her. She was nervous, fucking crying when he’d found her. It didn’t take a genius to deduce what had probably happened, even though he was, in fact, a genius and she was completely transparent right now, besides.

Is she messing with me?

If she was, the crying was some Olympic level acting he’d never known her capable of. Blossom was many things, but she wasn’t duplicitous.

How was this nervous, self-conscious girl the same one who had completely dominated Butch in a fight and loved every minute of being seen doing it?

Brick cleared his very dry throat and sat cross-legged to face her. “You mentioned traits and standards. What are the others?”

“Others?”

“That make someone girlfriend material. We already established that number one, she has to be hot.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say super model hot, but probably conventionally attractive.”

He waved her off. “Fine, whatever. Next?”

Blossom thought about that. “Well, I guess she should be nice.”

“Fine, but she can’t be boring.”

“Being nice doesn’t mean you’re boring.”

“It does if that’s all you are.”

“Of course that’s not all I am.”

Brick snorted. “No, you’re a hell of a lot more than that.”

Blossom narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. She should be smart.”

Blossom looked like she wanted to press him, but she refrained. “I agree. Intelligence is attractive.”

“But not too smart.”

“Excuse me?”

“And social, but not annoying about it. She should be able to keep up and complement you in any situation, but not overshadow or steal the spotlight.”

Blossom flushed in anger. “You realize how incredibly misogynistic that is, don’t you?”

Brick shrugged. “You said objectively speaking.”

“Oh, and you think all guys want is a party girl with above average looks and below average brains to stroke their egos?”

“No, I think your premise itself is flawed and I was proving my point. There’s no such thing as the objectively perfect girlfriend. That’s bullshit, and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.” He watched her avert her gaze like a timid little bird. “Anyone who tries to meet such a bullshit standard is also an idiot.”

That got her attention, and she turned angry, pink eyes on him. “I’m the last person on the planet you should be calling an idiot.”

“I was speaking objectively,” he sneered.

Okay, that was petty, he could admit that to himself. But it was worth it to see the indignation on her pretty face. She got up in a blaze of pink. He was not far behind.

“This was a mistake. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you of all people.” She began to walk away.

He followed. “That makes two of us.”

The sun was up now, and more construction workers had shown up to operate the crane. Even up on the roof, it was beginning to get a little noisy for anyone with sensitive Super hearing.

Nonetheless, they remained on the roof.

xxx

Conceited jerk, Blossom fumed on the other side of the roof with her arms crossed. Why do I even bother?

The conceited jerk didn’t know how to take a hint.

“You’re not actually upset,” Brick said.

Blossom glared back at him. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel.”

“Why?”

“Why don’t you get to dictate my feelings?”

“No, obviously. I meant why are you upset?”

Her lip trembled, but she bit down on it hard enough to hurt. No way was she going to cry in front of him again. Bad enough that he’d surprised her. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend like you care.”

Red sparks crackled on his skin. Blossom felt the sudden push of his choleric power like a punch to the gut, but she held her ground. It was over so fast that it left her breathless.

He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. “This is so fucking stupid.”

For once, Blossom was inclined to agree with him.

“Who was it?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“At Julie’s party. Whoever told you that you’re not girlfriend material. Who was it?”

Blossom shook her head, stunned. “That’s not… You weren’t even there—”

“You ran outta there like the place was on fire right after I got there,” he interrupted her. “So who was it?”

Blossom continued to stare at him. Angry Brick she could handle. Smarmy, arrogant, crass Brick she was used to brushing aside, loudly challenging, or ignoring completely depending on the mood. But this—no, not concerned, certainly not, more like curious Brick—was a subtle beast.

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“Just tell me.”

Without Blossom realizing how or when, something had shifted between them. She had never been afraid of Brick, not even when they were kids and literally trying to destroy each other to no avail, and she wasn’t afraid now. But something in his countenance, in the casual way he rested his hands in his hoodie pockets, the power to crush mountains kept at bay with frightening ease, gave her pause.

Logically speaking, there are no monsters in the mist.

None that could hurt her, anyway.

“Just…some girls,” Blossom said in a voice she hardly recognized. “Just some mean girls.”

Just four little words that hit like bullets.

“Uh-huh,” he said.

Blossom could not begin to understand why, but standing there on the roof with him as the construction workers hammered away below, she was struck with an overwhelming sadness as bleak as the fog that settled in the streets. If he were anyone else, his pity would have shamed her. But Brick had never once pitied her.

“I don’t get it,” she said. She was bullet proof. She’d faced monsters and demons and nightmares alike. Buttercup may be the toughest, and Bubbles may be light in the darkness, but Blossom was always in control, and control was power. It was everything. She could even face Brick’s chaotic brother on a Chemical X bender, and it felt good. She’d felt good. But this, these four damning words, hit her where she was weakest and most vulnerable, and she just couldn’t help it.

For all her power and control, she was just a seventeen-year-old girl who wanted to fit in.

She hugged herself close, wishing someone else would. “I don’t get it all.”

“I know.”

Blossom looked up. She’d forgotten Brick was even still there, but there he remained, stock still and staring off into the distance, his jaw set.

“You…”

“I mean, I get it,” he snapped. He scowled, but not at her.

Bewildered, Blossom could only stare as Brick became even more uncomfortable than she was. And then, it hit her.

“Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“I’m just saying.”

She stepped closer, unsure if she was hallucinating. “Why?”

He took off his cap and roughly carded his fingers through his short hair. “Because it’s fucking stupid. Not you, but you being so upset. Not like that—” he preempted her protest that never came, “—just that they could make you feel so shitty when you’re so…” He gestured to her.

“So what?”

His face flushed in anger. “You know, you.”

Blossom frowned. “I don’t understand—”

“You’re you. Class president, smart as fuck, you know, future Time Person of the Year type of shit—”

“That’s not—”

“—so beautiful and you know it. Hey, don’t make that innocent face. You’ve always known you’re gorgeous, you’re just too busy being nice to the morons in this city who couldn’t tie their goddamned shoes without whining for help to make a big deal out of it—”

Blossom matched his flush. “Just because people need my help sometimes doesn’t make them morons—”

“—and it just pisses me the fuck off because you’re this force of nature who can make my psychotic brother eat a dick one minute—”

“Oh my god—”

“—but then you fall apart because of what a bunch of obnoxious high school girls say to you drunk at a party? Jesus fucking Christ, Blossom.”

Blossom was so livid that she didn’t hesitate even a second to get in his face. “Don’t speak to me like that.”

Brick leaned down so close their noses nearly touched. “Like what?”

“Like you’re so above it all when you just admitted to me that you’re not.” Pink sparks materialized upon her skin as her temper flared to match his. How dare he try to play her for a fool? He of all people knew better.

Brick’s fingers on her cheek were the last thing she expected, and she recoiled with a gasp. Her power danced between his fingers, caught and mingling with his, and he made a slow fist one finger at a time. Blossom watched, mesmerized and unable to fathom why, but her eyes were blown wide and her lips parted.

Brick’s gaze flickered from his fist back to her, and she bit her lip. He had never looked at her like that before, except…

Except when she shoved Butch into the ground, exhausted and sore, and found Brick watching her like she was all that was worth looking at in this world. Shock and awe, she’d chalked it up to surprise at her actually beating Butch. Of course he’d underestimate her just like his brother, like everyone else. But no, that wasn’t right. This close to him, that heated look was unmistakable now.  

The moment passed like the sun dipping behind a cloud, and he pulled back. He slipped his hand back into his hoodie pocket and smiled in that subtle, diabolical way he’d perfected years ago. “Much better.”

Blossom swallowed hard. Had she… Had she imagined it?

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but her stomach growled, excruciatingly loud to her Super hearing and his.

Brick burst out laughing.

Mortified, Blossom blanched and covered her mouth and wished she could just disappear. “Oh my god,” she groaned. “I’m leaving.”

And she would have flown right out of there if he hadn’t grabbed her wrist. Still grinning, he tugged her back. “No, don’t leave.”

Blossom squeezed her eyes shut and wondered why the universe hated her so much. “We’re really done here.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else.”

The initial embarrassment faded, and she was left to wonder at his very odd choice of words. “What?”

“There’s a 1950s style diner I like a few blocks from here. I skipped breakfast too.”

He wasn’t laughing at her anymore as he waited on her acquiescence.

His hand was fire around her wrist. For the first time that morning, she started to feel the chill.

“All right,” she said.

“All right.” He let her go and began to float. “This way.”

Logically speaking, the sun rises in the east, days turn to weeks, and nothing lasts forever. Not thunderstorms, not youth, and not even pain.

Especially not pain.

Blossom sipped on the best vanilla milkshake she’d ever tasted as Brick rattled off dish after dish to the flabbergasted waitress who could not be blamed for not knowing the curse of Chemical X-induced inhumanly high metabolism.

“Hey, Brick?”

Brick looked up from their feast of eggs and bacon and pancakes. “What?”

Logically speaking, he’d only called her gorgeous and smart and amazing because she was those things, objectively. But there was no such thing as the objectively perfect girlfriend.

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He flushed and played it off like it meant nothing. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Logically speaking, nothing lasts forever, but they took their time anyway. What was the rush?

[sincerelybluevase]

Careful, Madam Chapter Three

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Mrs Danvers helped me out of the tub and began to towel me dry. “Your husband,” she said as she rubbed the towel between my toes, “shall go down to the wreck and see if he can be of assistance. I must make myself useful, too.”

I put a hand on her shoulder. “But why?”

She looked up at me. “Because Mr de Winter might bring the crew here. They’ll need to be fed. Perhaps they need to sleep here, too. Some might require medical assistance. There’s no saying with a wreck.”

“Oh.”

That strange, tender woman I had made love to had retreated once more, and now she was brusque, business-like, efficient. The woman dressed in silk stockings and scarlet slips I might have asked about her scars; the Manderley housekeeper I could not.

She misconstrued my unease, for she straightened, rested her palm against my cheek, and said, “You needn’t worry, Madam. It won’t touch you, I promise. I’ll give orders for the library to be readied for you. Unless you wish to sleep a little?”

I shook my head. “No. The library will do. Thank you, Mrs Danvers.”

“Shall you be able to dress yourself, Madam? Only I must see to the servants.”

I mustn’t show her I was hurt. I turned my face away from her and nursed that throbbing spot of nausea inside of me so I need not feel the disappointment, the yearning, the desire. “Of course. I won’t keep you.”

She went with silent step, already lost to me. Or so I thought; on the threshold she turned and rushed back to me. She did not falter, did not doubt, but clasped my face between her lean hands and kissed me. “Fear not,” she whispered, and I did not know what she wished me not to fear, and I did not care.

When she was gone I dressed myself and brushed my wet hair. Mrs Danvers had whisked away my dirty clothes. Would she, I wondered, mend that tear in the heel of my stocking for me?

Frith was in the hall downstairs. “Good morning, Madam,” he said. Did he think it unrespectable of me to walk around with wet hair? I realised that I did not mind if he did.

“Did you hear the rockets?” I asked.

“Indeed, Madam. Robert and I were just talking about it, wondering where exactly she has run aground. The fog does strange things to sound.”

“Yes. Yes it does, Frith.”

“A good thing we had none of that last night, or we shouldn’t have been able to see the fireworks. A good thing, too, that she did not run ashore then, or we should never have heard her call of distress.”

“Mr de Winter…?”

“Has gone to see if he can be of help, Madam.”

I was so tired I saw black spots dancing in front of my vision. I put a hand out to steady myself. Frith took hold of my elbow. “Steady, Madam. Are you not well?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed.

He guided me to a chair. I sank down heavily and sat with my head lowered until the clusters of darkness faded. I half expected Frith to bring me smelling salts, but he did no such thing, simply standing at my side, ready to run to my every command.

“I’m better now,” I said after a while.

“It’s the excitement,” he said.

“It’s the heat, this beastly heat. Why won’t it rain?”

“Shall I get you a glass of brandy, Madam?”

I shook my head. “No. No, Frith, I’m quite all right now.” I pushed a wet lock of hair behind my ear. “I shall be in the library. Please tell Mr de Winter to come find me there once he’s home.”

He nodded. “Madam.”

The library was cool, pleasantly so. I sat down on the sofa, feeling tired and drawn. The fancy dress ball seemed to have taken place a long time ago, but not even a full day had passed. I still had to apologise to Maxim. Strange; it was no longer such a pressing need. Perhaps I was simply too tired to think.

Despite everything, I must’ve slept then. When I woke, the mist had gone. The sky was bruised, still that filthy yellow colour that heralded a storm. The library had grown hot. I opened the windows, put my hands on the sill and leaned out. The air was oppressive, thick. There could be no tea on the lawn that afternoon, no raspberries and cream under the chestnut. I smelled the cloying scent of roses mixed with the bitter salt of the sea, strong enough to make my stomach spasm. My senses had heightened at Manderley; before, I had not such an acute sense of smell, nor such a sensitivity to scent. When I withdrew from the window, my palms left damp prints on the sill.

I thought to ring for tea, but then the door opened and Maxim came in.

His mouth was drawn, his face haggard. His skin had taken on a strange greyish hue I had only ever seen in the very sick or dying. We locked eyes. For a moment we simply stood and stared, taking the other in. Then he rubbed his face in that unselfconscious way that men have, roughly and all knuckle. The spell broken, I found I could move.

“Maxim,” I said.

“It’s over,” he said.

“What’s over, darling? How grey and tired you look. Come, you must sit.” I went to him and touched his arm, but he would not be guided. He went to the open window instead, picking up the ashtray on his way, and lit a cigarette. He smoked it quickly, eagerly, and with it some colour came back into his face so that it was no longer a waxen mask. I went to stand with him, unsure of whether to touch him, whether my affection would be welcome.

“You must forgive me,” I said.

“Forgive you?” he asked, staring at the cigarette held between his beautiful fingers. “What must I forgive you for?”

“My choice of dress. I swear I didn’t know Rebecca wore the same thing last year. If I had, I’d never have chosen it. It was a mix-up, a rotten, damnable mix-up.”

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. “I was very angry with you, wasn’t I?”

“Dreadfully so.”

He smiled. “Funny. It’s not important anymore.”

I didn’t know what to do with him. He seemed a stranger to me. “Maxim, darling, what has happened? Why are you acting like this, so strange, so funny? Was it terrible, the wreck? Is that it? Please, you must talk to me.”

“They found Rebecca’s boat,” he said. “The ship from Hamburg came too close to the shore and hit it full on. It’s wrecked, the ship is, though none of the crew were harmed. They couldn’t have known, of course; she was underwater.”

A twisting deep inside of me. “But how? I thought she was lost at sea, not near the shore.”

“Yes. That’s what everyone thought, that Rebecca took the boat out sailing in a storm and perished. Only now they’ve found her boat, and worse, they’ve found a body, and now all shall come in the open.”

Despite the heat, my hand and feet were numb and cold. “A body? I don’t understand. She went sailing with another? Oh, Maxim, how dreadful, how…”

He opened his mouth and began to laugh. It was a horrible sound, all rough and hollow. It petered out into a hoarse chuckle, only to start up again, louder and more forceful than before. On and on it went. I thought I should go mad, listening to that deranged laughter.

“Maxim, don’t,” I begged, and tried to put my hands over his mouth. “Darling, please don’t laugh, you shouldn’t laugh…”

He grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands away. He looked at me. His eyes were bloodshot, the irises rimmed with white, like those of a wild animal. I thought of him then as he had been on that mountaintop in Monte Carlo, when I had thought him to be not quite sane and had feared he might push me over the precipice. He looked like that now, even more so.

“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.

“You don’t understand, now do you? Of course you don’t. You live in your own little head, and no one is allowed in there, not even me, your own husband. Rebecca’s boat was not lost at sea, and she wasn’t sailing with another. I killed her. I killed Rebecca.”

And he told me.

He told me how their marriage had been a farce from the start, how she had made a deal with him to bring Manderley to glory if allowed her freedom, how her infidelities had tormented him. He told me how he had gone to the boathouse that night to scare her and her lover with the gun, and how he had found her alone. With his deep, calm voice he told me how she had confessed her pregnancy, and how he had shot her and then disposed of her.

I listened, feeling more numb all the while. It was as if I was dreaming. Soon, I’d wake up, and none of this madness would’ve happened. These things didn’t happen to me. You read about them in newspapers sometimes, but they never happened to one personally, not even to people one knew.

“But now it is all over,” Maxim went on, “They’ve found her, and they’ll know. She’s only bones, but there are things there to identify her, her rings… If only I had never identified that poor, unnamed woman as my wife…”

“It was a mistake,” I said automatically. “You must say it was a mistake. Corpses that have been in the water for so long, they’re unrecognisable, aren’t they? And you were mad with grief.”

He frowned, and then he laughed again. “Mad with grief? Did you think I loved her? I’ve never cared for her. I hated her. She was a vicious little bitch. She wasn’t even normal, rutting with men and women alike. But you, my little love, my darling…”

If he ever finds out about Mrs Danvers and me, I thought, and it was a clear thought, thin and swift, he’ll break my neck.

He began to kiss me, hungry little kisses, nipping at my lips. I stood like a dummy in his arms. I felt his mouth on mine, his breath, his arms tight around my body like winding sheets, yet the sensations were curiously dulled.

He’s doing it to someone else, I thought. Then, I wished he was doing it to someone else.

He noticed my stiffness and thrust me away from him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s too late,” he said, “I’ve left it too late. You don’t care for me now.” He began to pace, muttering under his breath.

“Maxim,” I whispered.

He looked at me, and now he truly was a stranger. My feelings returned, the strongest of them fear. “Why did you not tell me sooner?” I whispered.

“Do you think it’s an easy thing to admit, that my wife slept around like a cheap slut? Do you not understand how ashamed I was, and still am?”

I forced myself to go to him. I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” I kissed him with a dry mouth, wishing that I felt nothing. He tasted of smoke, of hunger. He put his arms around me and fell to kissing me again. His hands roamed over my body, squeezing and grasping, all done roughly.

“God,” he moaned, “how I want you. I must have you, my girl.” He moved me to the windowsill.

“Maxim, no!” I gasped. “Not here, the servants…”

“Servants be damned!” he growled. “I must have you, I simply must.”

I felt so weak I could hardly stand. I stumbled, leaned heavily against him, my wet fingers clutching at his shirt. Those dark spots were back. I trembled. I could hardly keep my head up, it was so heavy. “I’m not well. Please, I’m not well,” I said, and started to cry.

He clasped my face with both hands and made me look at him. What he read in my face must have convinced him, for he helped me to the sofa. I curled up, feeling faint and weak and sick. I couldn’t stop shaking.

“This must have come as a shock to you. I understand,” he said. He rang for a servant, then poured himself a drink. He came to sit with me, the sofa dimpling under his weight. His hand was hot as he stroked my face. Not even a day ago I would have welcomed this sudden sign of intimacy, this little bit of affection, but I was not the girl of yesterday anymore. I was so much older now I might as well have lived another ten years. His hot, demanding hand revolted me now, yet I had to convince him somehow that this sudden illness was not his doing, or else he might suspect, he might know how I feared him.

“I’ve been feeling poorly for weeks now,” I murmured. “I just feel so nauseous all the time, and I can’t eat…” My teeth were chattering. I pressed my hand against my jaw to make them stop.

His hand stopped petting me. “Nauseous? For weeks?”

I nodded; I couldn’t speak.

The door opened with a soft snick. I could not see who it was, and I did not care; as long as there was someone with us, he would not harm me.

“Ah, there you are,” Maxim said. “Mrs de Winter is feeling unwell. Help her to her room, will you? She must rest. I’ll call the doctor.”

“Sir.”

Gooseflesh erupted over my body. It was Mrs Danvers.

“I’m not that ill,” I whispered.

He leaned over me, kissed me with his wet mouth tasting of drink. “I don’t think you are, my little darling. Far from it.” His face, so gaunt and hollow and cruel half an hour before, had come alive now. It seemed to burn with a desperate, triumphant happiness that I didn’t understand.

“What are you talking about?”

He rocked in his heels, rubbed his mouth again in that harsh way peculiar to men. “What an innocent you are.” He looked over his shoulder. “Bring her to her room. Take care she doesn’t stumble on the stairs; we must be very careful with her, now. Women in her condition are fragile.”

Mrs Danvers felt my forehead with her cool, sweet hand. “Can you stand?”

I nodded; I could not look at her. She might read the truth of Maxim’s crimes in my eyes, and then we would both be lost.

She helped me up, an arm around my waist. My head felt heavy again, as if it was a flower and my neck a ravaged stalk. The blood returned to my head. I felt it thump, heard the stutter of my heart. I clutched at her hand; like mine, it was cold.

Up the stairs we went, slowly, carefully. I sensed a humming energy to Mrs Danvers, a desire for movement, for speech, that she smothered down. She must’ve heard about Rebecca’s boat, I thought, panic and pity mingling.

How could I tell her what I knew?

How couldn’t I?

Once in my room, she helped me sit down on the edge of the bed, undid my shoes for me. How many people, I wondered, had seen the top of her head? I touched it now, her thick hair wound up and tucked away, held into place with pins.

“You mustn’t make a fuss over me. I’m truly not ill. What happened this morning was a moment of passing weakness. I don’t know why Maxim insists on a doctor seeing me. There’s no need.”

She took my hand and rubbed it against her cheek. “Oh, Madam,” she said, moving her face against my fingers, my knuckles and palm, cat-like. “Oh, Madam.”

When she looked up at me, her face was soft with emotion, her eyes liquid with it.

“What?” I asked, “What is it?”

“Madam, I think you might be with child.”

It began to rain.