#‘without any warning and who he has been grieving and ruining his life over ever since’ type messing with

[irregularbillcipher]

“doomed by the narrative” this, “doomed by the narrative” that, literally none of your blorbos are him

[rocorambles]

Home Schooling

Pairing: Stepdaddy!Meian x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, NSFW, Invasion of Privacy, Overbearing and Controlling Behavior, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Non-Con/Rape, Degradation, Overstimulation, Humiliation

Summary: Why would Meian let you go to college in Tokyo when he can teach you everything you need to know right here in Osaka?

A/N: Happy birthday @iwaasfairy ! Of course I need to dedicate my first ever Meian fic to you on this very special day~ I hope this fic manifests a real life DILF Meian for you!!!

Meian has always been protective, even before your mother’s untimely demise. You remember how uncomfortable you had been about this handsome man waltzing into your family home one day, acting like a father figure almost since day one. Only your love for your mother and your desire for her to find happiness again kept your mouth shut, although when she wasn’t in view, you not so subtly found ways to keep your contact with the older man as minimal as possible.

There’s nothing necessarily “wrong” with Meian. In all honesty, if he weren’t so overwhelmingly involved with your life, you’d even argue that he’s a great guy. You can tell he truly cares for your mom, maybe even loves her— although you gag at the cheeky winks and flirtatious touches they generously dote on each other in front of you. And you’re happy for her! You really are. It’s been a long time since you’ve been forced to rely only on yourselves, only on each other. You’ve seen how hard she’s tried, keeping a strong front whenever you’re around, working twice as hard as anyone else to try and fill the aching hole in both your hearts from the loss of your father. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s her.

But there’s something unnerving, even aggravating, about the way Meian interferes with every aspect of your life. You can’t help a strange foreboding feeling twisting inside of you as a heavy gaze trails after you wherever you go, as he begins to rope you into every conversation he has with your mother, almost demanding and insistent about not letting you withdraw to your room despite your well-meaning wishes to give them their privacy.

You try to be on your best behavior, not wanting to be the reason your mom’s new relationship is ruined, especially when you can see just how much she likes him. But every time he opens his mouth and questions everything you do, everything you wear, and everything you say, you can feel your temper rise, wondering where his audacity to act as a father figure comes from.

It’s easy enough to retreat to your room, closing your door and sighing in relief as you escape those sharp eyes. You find comfort in the fact that you have at least one safe place he can’t breach, finding false security in the hope that he’d never invade an adult woman’s bedroom. Except he does, and your heart drops when you notice the miniscule adjustments in your room — your underwear drawer slightly ajar with some pieces missing, your bedsheets slightly rumpled in a way you know you hadn’t left them this morning. Things you know you could never bring up to your mother without sounding like a madwoman. So without irrefutable proof, you keep quiet, knowing that at least there’s not much more time left before you can truly run away from all of this.

Being an adult comes with many responsibilities and adventures, and together, your mother and you pore over myriads of college pamphlets, debating which locations make the most sense, planning how you’re going to make the finances work, and thinking about which colleges have the courses best suited for you. It’s a fun and stressful rollercoaster, but you beam when your mother proudly ruffles your hair, when you both agree on you leaving Osaka behind and adventuring out, creating new memories and beginnings in a different city.

(“Plus, I’ll be able to visit you and play tourist”, your mom excitedly says, and you giggle, letting her affectionately hold you as you stare at the universities you’ve narrowed your choices down to.)

The future seems bright and exciting as you studiously sit down and scan over textbooks and practice exams, dutifully attending your tutoring sessions, cramming for the college entrance exam. It’s all going to plan, except Meian has different opinions. And this time, you can’t hold back the scowl when he yet again goes on and on about how he doesn’t understand why you can’t just stay in Osaka for college.

It’s not a new argument by any means. Just the same few questions being twisted and worded differently and tossed back in your face on a daily basis.

“Don’t you think your mom will be lonely if you move away and only come back for the holidays?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To keep her company?”

“Don’t you feel bad about spending your mom’s carefully saved money on room and board when you could just continue living with us instead and just pay tuition?”

You silently thank your mom when she steps in, firmly telling Meian that she doesn’t mind, that this is exactly why she’s saved up.

But the arguments keep on coming, and you can feel the tension growing in your household, your own stomach churning with guilt and worry, wondering if you’ll end being the cause of their breakup after all as you constantly hear their raised voices going back and forth about you leaving or staying in Osaka.

So despite your discomfort and wariness towards Meian, you can’t help the relieved grin that stretches across your face when your mom comes squealing to you, flinging her arms around your body and shoving her gorgeous engagement ring in your face. You even muster up a slightly tight smile, that only feels a little forced, as you look to the tall man who leans in the doorway, muttering congratulations before directing your attention back to your mom, fondly smiling as she continues raving about her new piece of jewelry, ignoring the way Meian continues to loiter around the both of you.

Your mom is the most beautiful bride as she walks down the aisle and you stare in awe at how she glows, hoping one day you’ll look even remotely as mesmerizing as she does. And while you look on, star-eyed and in wonder, at the woman who had raised you, you miss the way dark eyes intently gaze at you, eyes that should be on the woman he’s about to publicly vow to be with his entire life.

Maybe if you had been more aware, more cautious, you wouldn’t have so eagerly waved both of them off on their honeymoon, wouldn’t have been so excited to shove your mom towards the airport, giving her one last hug and kiss before sillily demanding that she enjoy herself and have the best time of her life.

Maybe then your heart wouldn’t be shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as you collapse in Meian’s strong arms, sobbing uncontrollably and shaking your head in denial when he returns by himself and breaks the news of your mother’s passing.

You delay going to college in Tokyo for a year, allowing yourself time and space to grieve. Or so you had planned, but it seems that Meian has no intention of letting you have your privacy. You share the house with him after your mother’s funeral, unable to argue against him completely moving in when he now owns the property.

He’s still up to his usual overbearing ways, although his tone is softer as he treats you like a wounded animal, carefully handling you as he rouses you from your sleep in the mornings, startling you the first few times he sits on the edge of your bed and wakes you up by tenderly stroking your cheek, preparing all your meals for you and scolding you when he thinks you haven’t eaten enough. It’s almost frightening how easily you fall into his rhythm, not even flinching after a while when his large hand finds itself on your face, your shoulder, your back, your hand, your thigh. Tiny, seemingly platonic touches border the line of what’s appropriate for a guardian and their ward. Although, deep down, you know the two of you are diving in dangerous territory when you feel his knuckle brush against the swell of your ass briefly, his calloused fingertips quickly skimming your breasts, his palm squeezing just a tad too high up your thigh.

But you seek any remaining softness your mother had instilled in your heart for a man who’s lost his wife of just a few days, letting your new guardian (you don’t dare call him father) do as he pleases, not wanting to deal with any more conflict when your heart is still mending. And maybe, just maybe, you find some solace in his touches, in the love he forces upon you, seeking even just a hint of the parental affection your mother had bestowed upon you.

Time heals all wounds, or so they say. You can’t agree that it resolves everything, but you can admit that you’re feeling much better now that a year is almost up, ready to move on, live your life, and make your mother proud. You start re-looking into Tokyo housing, comparing the expenses of living off-campus versus living in the dorms, typing and reworking budgets over and over again in your Excel sheet until your eyes burn and you let out a huge yawn.

Coffee now. Budgets later.

You trudge to the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of dark caffeinated liquid, letting out a pleased sound when the aroma fills the air, happily making your way back to your room to revisit some of your calculations, mug in hand. But you freeze when you see Meian sitting at your desk, clicking through the different tabs of apartment and dorm options you had been looking at, scrutinizing your planned expenses.

There’s no reason for the guilt that claws at your chest when you see the way his jaw clenches as he turns to look at you, hurt in his eyes as he silently demands an explanation for what he’s looking at. But it’s guilt that has you slamming down the mug on your desk and planting your firsts on your hips in a confrontational stance, that has defensive angry words spewing from your lips as you yell at him for invading your privacy, that has you storming towards him and trying to shove his much larger and stronger frame away from your computer.

But it’s futile and you gasp when you’re pulled into his lap, his hands easily pinning you to him and holding you still as he holds you in a mockery of an embrace, your back against his toned chest, his mouth right against your ear.

“You were just going to leave for Tokyo without telling me?”

You want to stay angry, want to continue twisting and fighting against his grip. But the vulnerability you hear in his words has you staying still, has you anxiously biting your lower lip as you try and find the right words to soothe the man clutching you.

“I- I didn’t think I needed to tell you anything. This was always the plan. You knew I only put off attending college for a year to take some time for myself. But I’ll come back and visit during the holidays-”

Your words are cut off by a pained gasp as thick arms tighten their hold on you, but the growled threat in your ear has your anger bubbling over, masking any other feeling.

“You’re not leaving.”

The matter of fact tone, the final decisiveness of the words, the way Meian leaves no room for discourse or arguments, has you lashing out at him and before you can second guess yourself, the position you’re in, or the difference in power between the two of you. In a matter of seconds, you’re snarling right back at him.

“You’re not my father! You can’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Righteous pride swells in your chest and you spare him a sharp, wicked grin, haughtily tilting your head up condescendingly, basking in the viciousness of your words. But what you aren’t expecting is the hearty laugh he responds with, something dark and gleeful swirling in his eyes as a cruel smile cuts across his face.

“You’re right. I’m not your father, not even your guardian. So this is fine, right?”

You scream as the arms still wrapped around you haul you up, your limbs thrashing and flailing as you try to force your way free from his iron grip to no avail. Fear and anger make you hysteric as you register the fact that you’re quickly approaching the room that once belonged to your mother, the room Meian now resides in. Disbelief and nausea overtake you when you’re assaulted by the familiar four walls as you’re haphazardly tossed onto the bed, sobbing as memories of your mother surround you and invade your thoughts while calloused hands easily tear your clothes off your body.

But you’re immediately silenced, sobs turning into choked whimpers as a large hand grabs the bottom half of your face, fingers digging into your cheeks, a palm suctioning your mouth shut.

“Where are all those manners your mother taught you? What would she think if she heard you throwing a temper tantrum like a child?”

The callousness of his words hits you like a ton of bricks. Meian smirks at the new round of fat, watery drops that stream down your face, mockingly cooing down at you, calling you a good girl, praising your newfound silence as his hand slowly drags down until it's wrapped around your neck, where he lightly squeezes, reveling in the adorable whimper you release.

But as pathetically amusing as you are, sniveling and choking under him, there’s more that he’s keen on seeing. You feel like a slab of meat under his observant gaze. Prized meat, but meat all the same as he runs his hands across your figure like a butcher testing the firmness of his livestock, pinching and prodding almost methodically, coldly. Only the amusement and hunger in his eyes are indicative of how much this is truly affecting him. Yet it’s tolerable, barely, if you just stare up at the ceiling, pretending you’re at an incredibly invasive medical exam.

He’d be offended by how hard you’re trying to ignore him if it weren’t for the telltale signs of your arousal that you desperately try to deny. He grins at how your nipples harden from just a few teasing circles, how your clit stands to attention, your pretty folds already beginning to glisten as he pets your velvety walls. You’re even more beautiful than he had imagined after watching you prance around the home in your skimpy loungewear. And suddenly, his pants are far too tight, cock straining uncomfortably against the fabric he’s quick to rip off. It’s music to his ears when you shakily say his name over and over again, as you try and resist the way he forces himself between your legs, hands spreading your thighs apart, toned body pinning you down, something hard nudging at your tight entrance.

“Meian, please. Please! Please, Meian.”

He ignores your tears, ignores the other words of resistance that slip past your mouth, head dipping down to your mouth and neck, kissing and marking every part of you he can reach, murmuring for you to call him by his first name. And when he loses patience with your whining, you finally acquiesce as he forcefully shoves himself balls deep inside you, a sneer ruining his handsome face as he lightly slaps your face in approval when you wail his first name, “Shugo” howled in an agonizing exclamation as you try to somehow dislodge him from ripping you in two.

“Look at that, the little slut can behave when she wants to. I bet your mother would be so proud.”

You hate how he drags your mom’s name in the ground as he defiles you, violates you in the bed they had once shared. You hate how his large frame feels crushing you, overpowering you, making you feel so incredibly helpless and weak. But mostly, you hate the slick lewd sounds your pussy makes as he pounds hard and fast into you, the undeniable proof that your body doesn’t hate this nearly as much as it should. Hot angry disgusted tears roll down your face as you glare up at him, desperately fighting back the rising moans threatening to humiliate you even more.

Your little defiant attitude is punished by Meian thrusting even harder into you, practically bending you in half as he pushes down on the back of your thighs, forcing you into a mating press. And he laughs at your wrecked face, hungrily taking in the way your eyes roll back in your head, the way your jaw drops wide open, your tongue and rivulets of drool trickling down your face, wanton moans loudly filling the room.

“For all your whining and complaining, you sure do look like you’re enjoying this, sweetheart.”

You wish you could deny his words, retort back with a scathing remark, do anything really. But when he reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs rapid circles against your erect clit, hips still pistoning against yours, cock stuffing you full, your mind blanks and an animal-like howl tears through the room as your body convulses, pussy walls clamping down and quivering as you cream all over the shaft still dragging against your sensitive walls, only heightening your peak.

Meian briefly wonders if this is what heaven feels like (or as close to heaven as someone like him is going to get) as he groans at the way your velvety walls milk his cock, gritting his teeth to not be dragged over the edge with you. He’s not delusional to think that any of this is right, the photo of his ex-wife, your mother silently watching you from the nightstand only emphasizing just how wrong this all is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when you’re a fucked out mess underneath him, so obediently and submissively slurring his name over and over again, drowning in pleasure and bliss.

There’s nothing more he wants than to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls, to fill you, mark you, claim you with his seed, but he’s not quite ready for a full house just yet. He has a few more years alone with you all planned out in his head before he breeds your pretty little womb. So just as his control teeters on the edge, he pulls out of you, casually sitting back and spreading his legs, slowly stroking his cock as he orders you to come and suck him off.

He’s almost proud of the little fight you still have left in you, lips quirking upwards at the way you try to ignore him, trying to look anywhere but at him. But his balls are almost painfully tight, his cock aching for release.

“Suck me off like a good girl or I’m going to cum inside of you over and over again until you’re knocked up. Bet your mother would have loved that for you. Her precious college-bound girl turned into a pregnant uneducated whore.”

It’s an empty threat, but you don’t ever need to know that, not when it has you obeying so well as he threads his fingers through your hair, groaning as your hot wet mouth sinks down on his cock still covered in your essence. All it takes is a few harsh shoves of your face, his hand pulling you up and down like a warm fleshlight, and as he finally reaches his end, he completely pulls you off, arching your neck back in a way that leaves your mouth open as he spurts thick white stripes all over your face and in your orifice.

You make to wipe your face, grateful at least that this is all over, but before you can move even an inch, you yelp as you’re shoved back down on your back, hands instinctively trying to push at broad shoulders as your legs are once again forced open. You’re a quick learner though, and with one dark warning look from the man whose face is now hovering over your spent hole, you instantly bring your hands down to your sides, clawing and fisting the ruined bed sheets instead as Meian ravenously licks and laps at your dripping cunt. The disgusting wet sounds echo in your ears as pleasure and shame swirl inside of you, a crescendo ascending too quickly, too high.

But your thrashing and blissed out pleas to stop, to let you rest, only serve to whet Meian’s appetite even more. Time becomes surreal and meaningless as you drown and float in a mixture of pain and pleasure, brought to climax over and over again until you feel boneless, your pussy and body ceaselessly twitching, mind broken beyond repair as you babble incoherently, unsure of anything except the lips and tongue at work between your thighs.

You cum one last time, body barely moving aside from a slight shudder, too worn out, too dazed to even comprehend the fact that Meian unravels himself from you, wiping his face of your arousal and taking a few swigs of water before making his way towards your desk and dialing the admissions office number he finds. And as the phone rings and he leans back in your chair, he adoringly gazes at the sinful display you make, looking like the epitome of debauchery as your body splays out, a stupid blissed out expression on your face, reeking of sex and sweat.

He strokes his cock as it rises back to life, raring to go again as he licks his lips, tasting your sweet juices on his tongue, never stopping even when a voice finally comes through the line. He only pauses slightly to bite back a laugh when something shatters in your pretty eyes, a sliver of realization piercing through your dazed look as you hone in on his conversation.

But you do nothing to stop him, unable to do anything but listlessly stare and watch as he cancels your enrollment in front of you, hangs up the phone, and casually makes his way back towards you as if he hadn’t ruined years of hard work and decimated your future plans in mere minutes.

“There’s no need to go all the way to Tokyo for education, sweetheart. Not when I can teach you everything you need to know right here. Now open up your mouth so we can get your first lesson started.”

[sunflowerryvol6]

Cheat Day Part 2

I don't know what made me write this, but I hope this makes some sense. Dedicated to the sweetest @hstyleswomen @harrysficreblog

Masterist

Warnings: Angst

WC: 2800

Six years later.

The first few years of the split were brutal. You both couldn't spend a moment in the room with each other without crying or fighting. There seemed to be no end to your suffering, it seemed. But like all wounds, time heals most. You just needed some time to get your head in the game. Luna was your priority, after all.

Harry and you had found a rhythm in co-parenting. He would have her on weekdays for half the month, and rest you would have her. You both would alternate on weekends. As years have gone by, you both have learned to spend more time together, for Moonie's sake. Last year, you went on a vacation too. You, Moonie, Harry and his girlfriend Lisa. You and Lisa didn't have a great start, but both of you decided to hash it out for the sake of your little girl. She loved Moonie as her own, and you couldn't be more grateful. Lisa and Moonie had a beautiful relationship; she was a friend you little moon needed. Whenever Harry and you had arguments, Lisa would take Moonie and excuse herself out of the crossfire. Spending time with Lisa has made Moonie realise that it's possible to have more than one parental figure, and you can love them all the same. You couldn't be happier. You had finally got the opportunity to dive back into work fully and have a support system. That's what Lisa and Harry had become to you. Your support system.

Lisa and Harry met two years after the split. She had always been very kind to you, but it took you some getting used to the idea of your ex-husband with somebody else. So, of course, there was friction at first, but over time once you got to know her a little bit, you both got on very well. It definitely has something to do with the way she treated your daughter.

Lisa was a widow. Her husband and the little boy died in a freak accident. She never told you the details of how it happened, but it was something she was dealing with on her own. Harry had supported her through her grieving process, and that's what brought them together. It can seem odd to people how they got together, but those who know them know they're great for each other. Harry had changed too, since meeting her. He had a newfound appreciation for his daughter and his ex-wife and the relationship they had. That's what pushed him to work through the differences he had with you. He had to find a way to make things work and still be in your daughter's life. It took a lot of fights and compromise. But in the end, you two decided to put your past behind and march on ahead as a family. Even though it's not what you had signed up for in this relationship, but that doesn't mean you're not grateful for it.

It was Friday night, and Harry and Lisa would be coming in with Moons anytime now. It was a tradition you three had started for your little girl. Anne was coming over too. She wasn't happy with what happened, but she made peace with the situation like her son. You had taken the home you and Harry had bought, and he'd moved into another house close by. You both decided you needed to be closer to Luna. Even though it had led to multiple fights, in the end, you knew it was the best decision to stay close by. A few years ago, when Luna's appendix burst, he was close by to drive you both to the hospital and took care of at the hospital. When you have to go on work trips, he is there to take her in. It's an unconventional set-up, but it works.

Harry walks into your house with a very smiley Lisa on his arm. "Why are you smiling so much?" You ask her. She shows you her hand coyly. "Harry proposed to me this afternoon." Anne looks up from her phone, surprised. She smiles wide and the couple "Oh honey! I'm so happy for you both!" She rushes to hug the couple. Luna runs up to Lisa and Harry to embrace them. "I'm so happy for Pa! and you too, Lise!" Harry reaches down to her level and kisses her on the cheek. You were just standing and watching this exchange, kind of stunned. You knew they were serious, but you didn't think he was going to propose. You quickly recover and walk over to Lisa, "I'm so happy for you, Lisa! Congratulations!" You hug her, and over her shoulder, you can see Harry looking at you, and you wipe your eyes quickly and pull away from the hug.

The night goes better than you'd expected. You all celebrated with a nice bottle of wine and stories of how they met, and she told stories of her first few times interacting with Moons. Overall it was a beautiful night of reminiscing. Too bad you disagreed. You'd had a little too much to drink and caught Harry looking over to you every time you refilled your glass. You knew better than to call him out on it. So you just sat in a corner and wished you'd disappear.

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You wake by the incessant ringing coming from your phone. It's Harry. It's pretty late for him to be calling you, so you answer. "Harry, what's wrong?" You ask.

"Open your door; I'm outside." He speaks. You look at the time on your phone and get back on call. "What are you doing here? Why'd you call?" You ask again. "Just come out. I'll explain." You get out of bed and wear your robe and walk downstairs to your main door.

"Harry. What are you doing here? Are you drunk?" You look at him, confused.

He walks in. "I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have asked Lisa to marry me. I knew it when I broke the news to you today. I knew it was a bad call. I thought you wanted me to move on, but looking at your face today, I couldn't believe I had done that to you." He breathes out.

You look at him wide-eyed at his confession. "What the fuck? Did you just walk in here thinking you were going to make this stupid fucking argument and I was going to fall for it?" You say to him.

"Y/N, I know you love me."

"Of course, I love you, you bloody moron. I do, and I have for the last 15 years. But you cheated on me, remember? And you brought Lisa into our lives, whom I love very dearly, by the way. So what do you think was going to happen?"

"I can't stand being away from you. Living so close, yet you won't let me come near you. It's been killing me slowly each day." His lip was trembling as tears well in his eyes.

"Harry, you made this choice 4 years ago. You asked her to marry you. Why would you do this to me now?"

"I just need to kiss you once, please. Harry pleads.

"Think about Luna. Think about what you're ruining for her. We have already broken up our family. You can't break it anymore and cause her pain, please. I love you, I do. Very very much, and I can't stand here and watch you ruin yet another relationship, Harry."

"Please listen to what I'm saying. I love you, goddamnit! I need you to recognise that. I need you to tell me it will be okay, and we will be okay."

"We are okay, H. As okay as we can be. Please go back home to your fiancé, and don't bring this up again ever. For the sake of our daughter. Please." You're pleading with him now with tears streaming freely.

You turn around and walk back to your room. You laid back on your bed and cried quietly into your pillow.

You knew what you were going to do.

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You stand outside the door of your ex's mother. You have no idea how you will tell her what you have done to her daughter-in-law to be. But you had no one to turn to. So, you ring the doorbell and wait for her to open the door.

"Hello, darling! What a wonderful surprise!" She beams at you. You give her a small smile and walk into the house. You get comfortable on the couch in the living area while she closes the door and comes up to where you're sitting. "Moonie didn't want to come along?" She asks as she goes back to folding the laundry you had caught her in the midst of. "No, it's just me today." You spoke. "Let me put on some tea, and we'll have a good ol' mother-daughter chat. What d'ya say?" She smiles. "Yes. That sounds like a great plan." You smiled.

You both sat at the kitchen island, sipping on peppermint tea and mindlessly talking about things and catching up. You had yet to tell her. "Darling, let's stop beating around the bush, shall we?" Anne says to you. You freeze. She couldn't have known, but she definitely knows what's up.

"Harry came to talk to me the night he proposed." You looked down at your cup shamefully. Anne reached out to place her palm on yours, "I know. He told me." She smiles sadly.

"Yeah, and I can't live here anymore knowing how he feels." You whisper. "Are you going to tell him?" Anne seems calm like she understands how this must feel. "No." You look up at her with tears welling up in your eyes.

She gets up from across the table and comes around to where you are seated. She reaches out to you, and you lean into her and hold her waist, silently crying.

"Everything will fall in place, my child."

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You travelled a lot the following month, so it was easier to avoid Harry after that conversation you had. You had spent countless nights crying into your pillow. You knew you had to go back to therapy. You couldn't slip now. You had been doing so well.

Moonie was supposed to stay with you tonight. Harry would be dropping her off from ballet any moment now. You had been avoiding him ever since the incident between you too. You couldn't bear to look at him or Lisa. You just made up excuses most Fridays, some of which you were travelling, so it wasn't that big a deal. You were home to spend time with your girl and back to the office. Today, you'd just have to suck it up and face him. You didn't know what you'd say, but you couldn't avoid him forever. The thought alone had your stomach-churning. Suddenly the tacos you had for lunch didn't seem to be such a great idea. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of cold water. You took an icepack from the fridge and carried both the items, and sat back on the couch with your head leaned back. You checked your phone for the time, and just in time, the bell rang. You got up from the sofa and walked up to the door. Opened the door to find Moonie, Harry and Lisa, all standing in front of you. You could see her ring glistening even in the porch light outside your home.

Suddenly you felt lightheaded and reached for the doorframe to steady yourself. Before you could think, you sunk down. But Harry was quick to catch you. Harry knelt beside you and laid your head on his lap, "It's okay, you're okay." He said softly. "Lisa! could you bring her some water, please". That's the last thing you heard before you passed out.

He was still standing behind you. "Are you feeling ill?" You rolled your eyes at him, you tried to sit up, and he helps you. "No, I think it's just the travelling." His eyes softened at your comment, "I've been calling you; you know? Why didn't you answer any of my calls?" He asks.

What were you supposed to say to that? I'm sorry that you want to leave your fiancé for me? Instead, you just shrugged. "I've been busy, Harry. Actually, I don't feel so good right now, so could we maybe talk about this later?" You turned to look at him. He moved backwards and out of your way to give you some room. "Yeah, sure. Can I get you something? I can stay with you for a few hours." He asked. "No. That won't be necessary, Harry. Please go home."

You walk into the living room and find Lisa making a cup of tea. "Hey, you feeling any better?" She smiles at you. She pours the tea into a cup and brings it over to you, "It always helped me, so I figured why not?" You thank her and take the cup from her.

"Yeah, I think it's just the stress from travelling so much. I'll be okay in a few days. I think I'm going to turn in." You asked. "Of course, darling. You just feel better, okay?" She smiles at you. "Honey, Let's head home and give this one some time to rest." She walks up to Harry and puts her arm around him, and sweetly pecks his cheek. He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'll just go say goodbye to her", And he walks towards your daughter's room.

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Harry : I need to see you, please.

You: Come over after dinner today.

Harry: See you x

"Are we going to talk about what happened?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "I think we're past the stage of talking at this point." You sigh. "What do you mean?" He asks. He's furrowing his brows at you like he does when he's concerned about something.

"I'm leaving, Harry."

"What."

"Yeah, I have been planning it for 2 months now. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

"I came to tell you that I ended things with Lisa, and I wanted to give us a real shot. Give Moonie an actual shot at a family."

"I don't need to tell you anything, really. We can figure out the details of how we're going to manage custody later over text or call."

"So you're just going to leave your daughter go to god knows where?" He asks you.

"I can't be here anymore, Harry. This opportunity will bring countless more opportunities for Moonie and me. And I need to do this for myself. Now, if you will please." You show him the door.

That was the last time you'd see Harry for a long time. But that's something he didn't need to know.

You didn't know if you'd be able to go through with it. But it had to be done. If Harry were to leave Lisa or not, it had to be on his terms, not because he was in love with you.

A few months later

When you told Anne about your plan, she wasn't exactly on board. But she understood, and she loved you. So, of course, she brought you to her farmhouse for you to stay. You and Luna made an agreement that she wouldn't tell her Pa that you're camping out here. Anne would bring her down on weekends. You'd found a strange confidante in your daughter. Not that you'd go into the details of your relationship with Harry, but she understood many things that you didn't give her credit for. That's how you spent the past few months. Getting to know your daughter, who hadn't been a stranger to your problems with Harry, even though that's how you wanted it to be.

You were sipping your morning coffee as you check your emails for anything you had lined up for the day. The date was looming over you, and you just needed to be as distracted as to not think about the wedding happening right now. You need to occupy yourself with work. So, you open the email folder and find an email from Lisa. She has tried to reach out to your multiple times on call and via text, but you always make an excuse about work or being sick. With time she stopped reaching out so often, and you felt less guilty for moving away.

Dear Leyla,

I can't say I haven't missed you these past few months. Hope you're well. I'm getting married today, and you're not here. In a way, I get why you left. But I just wanted to let you know that I wanted you here, just as much Moonie and Harry. Especially him. But you already knew that, didn't you?

With time, I hope he loves me just as much you love him.

Love,

Lisa.

You couldn't stop crying now. You knew that she knew.

[troubatrain]

set it up - a. beauvillier

a/n: i started this idk 9000 years ago with three different hockey boys but i’ve never written for tito and this could be 6k words of absolute garbage but i think you guys will like it?? it was inspired when i watching the Netflix movie Set It Up, which I absolutely love because who doesn’t love a romcom. I wanna thank @nazdaddy​ for giving it a quick read like halfway through to hype me up you’re a real one!!

You felt sick.

Your feet hurt, your head was pounding and you were absolutely soaked. It started in the morning, waking up late for and having to sacrifice your morning coffee so your boss wouldn’t kill you. Then there was the workday from hell, skipping lunch to work on a project because your boss’s son had a brain the size of a raisin. By the time five rolled around, a storm had sweeped into New York, soaking the city streets on a day when you didn’t have an umbrella on hand. The subway packed, and by the time you’d gotten back to your apartment you were absolutely exhausted. You were looking forward to a night in, a glass of wine and ordering take out.

Then you were met with the sight of a pink scrunchie, sparkling against your door and stopping you dead in your tracks.

Rose was your best friend, and that was the sole reason why you haven’t murdered her yet. You’d lived with Rose since you were freshman in college, randomly paired up as roommates and you got lucky she turned out to be your friend. In all of those years, she’d been with the same guy who she met approximately four hours after you moved into your dorm. Cam was great, until one day he just wasn’t. Rose still didn’t know what happened, but after grieving the longest relationship she’d ever been in for months, she was finally ready to start dating again. Turns out, dating again, was going to ruin your life.

You furrow your eyebrows, rubbing your hand over your eyes and trying to remember if she mentioned having anyone over. You open your phone, remembering how you turned on do not disturb sometime after she sent you her tenth meme of the day while you were working your ass off.

Having Kyle over for dinner - among other things, can you stay out for a bit?

You lean your head back, letting out a small scream in frustration. You hear a laugh behind you, and you turn around to be met by your neighbor. Anthony Beauvillier was an okay neighbor. He was quiet, usually giving you some sort of heads up that he’d been having a party which was rare. You knew he was gone most of the time because of hockey, but you never cared to ask any questions further than that. One thing you did notice about your neighbor, was just how handsome he looked in a suit on the rare occasion you caught him in the elevator.

“You okay?” Anthony asks, turning his head to the side, “Are you locked out?”

“No,” You sigh, debating whether or not you really needed to drop this on him, “Rose has a friend over, and I missed her text to tell me to stay out.”

“But you’re soaked,” Anthony points out, pointing to the water that was dripping off of you, “Come by me.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that, I’ll just-” You start to decline his invite, but his eyes were kind while they were staring at you, an amused smile on his face.

“C’mon Y/N, I’ll get you some dry clothes,” Anthony smiles, opening up his apartment door and insisting you came in, “And I’m not going to cook all of this for myself.”

Anthony holds up the grocery bags in his hand, soft eyes and a smile to match staring back at you. You nod, taking the invitation inside because it beat sloshing around in your heels, “Thanks Anthony.”

“You can call me Beau if you want,” Anthony shrugs, pointing down the hallway of the apartment that was identical to yours, “My rooms down there take whatever you want.”

Anthony moves around his kitchen, his mind wandering about why he felt compelled to invite her neighbor inside. Really he felt bad, you looked like you were having an awful day and getting sexiled from your own apartment probably would have been enough to break you. Anthony was tired too, his body was sore from a rough practice earlier that day. Not to mention the team was on a five game losing streak and while Anthony knew he could be doing more himself, he knew Mat wasn’t playing up to usual standards either.

Mat was a mess, and it was starting to drive Anthony absolutely crazy. He thought he was in love, a random girl he followed on Instagram who he took out a few times. Mat thought it was something, turns out she thought it was something casual. Now, his usual cocky and charismatic best friend was just a sad shell of himself. Selfishly, Anthony wanted him to get over it because if he did then they’d probably win a few more games and Trotz wouldn’t have them skate until someone threw up.

Then it hit him, the second you walked back into the kitchen with his clothes hanging off your frame while you pulled your hair back an idea came to Anthony’s head. If you wanted peace and quiet, he could give it to you, “Does Rose do this a lot?”

“Lately,” You sigh, sitting at the barstool next to the island, “Her boyfriend broke up with and after she cried for a few months she decided to be single and that’s ruining my life.”

“What if I could help?” Anthony asks, raising his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t need to let me into your place because Rose is-” You go to tell him no - whatever idea he had couldn’t be a fix all solution for your current problem.

“My teammate Mat, he’s single, and honestly sad, but he does have his own place where Rose can spend all her time…” Anthony suggests, dragging out his last words to give you a minute to think.

“What if they don’t even like each other?” You ask, stating what you thought should be the obvious.

“We’ll just set them up on a few dates, I’ll give Mat advice that you give me and it’ll all work out,” Anthony argues back, “We’re in complete control here.”

“But then it’s not real,” You remind him, that if you told Mat exactly how to date Rose it wouldn’t be Mat dating Rose at all.

“Does it matter?” Anthony asks, “You get a quiet apartment and my team gets a few wins, “What's the harm?”

“The harm is our friend's feelings,” You say, your hands in the air while you continued to talk. You were stopped by a ding on your phone, a text from Rose giving you a fair warning that her friend was staying over. You roll your eyes, “You know what - fine.”

“Really? You’re in?”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

***

You didn’t know why Anthony had you meeting him at the coffee shop just a few blocks away from your building, but judging by the all black outfit he was sporting, something told you that it was because he was taking this set up thing too seriously.

“Are we spies now?” You ask, slipping into the chair and crossing your arms, “Because if we are you aren’t doing a very good job.”

“I’m not doing a good job? You’re wearing yellow,” Anthony says, “You could not be any more obvious.”

“Whatever, when’s Mat going to get here?” You ask, grabbing the coffee Anthony had waiting for you.

The plan was simple, Anthony knew that Mat knew who Rose was to some capacity, because Mat had told his friend on more than one occasion about how hot his neighbors were. So, you were both going to force them to actually speak to each other. Anthony suggested just telling them that you were setting them up on a date, but you insisted that if this was going to work they would have to think this happened without the will of the two of you. So you both invited them to the same place, and after you both conveniently miss your plans they would have to run into eachother.

“He should be here soon, I tipped the barista $40 to mix up their coffees and let us watch from their kitchen,” Anthony explains, holding up to his end of the plan, “Which by the way, was way more than I think they would have taken.”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be okay,” You roll your eyes, reminding him that you were living with Rose to keep your rent down while Anthony could live alone comfortably, “Shit, I see them.”

You both got up, sneaking into the back where the barista who was working just shook her head at the two of you. You peek out, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Anthony wraps his arm around your chest, pulling you back into him, “I swear if you get caught.”

You try to push the thought about how good Anthony smelled, or how nice his arm felt around you while you tried to focus on Rose who just grabbed Mat’s coffee by accident. Mat tells her it’s his, a joke about how familiar she looked following shortly after. Their conversation was brief, and for a minute you thought maybe it wasn’t going to work. Then you saw Mat slip his phone out of his pocket, holding it out for Rose to take.

“Oh my god, it’s working,” You exclaim, Anthony’s hand flying over your mouth immediately. He mumbled something in French, and there was no way you were going to be able to make it out. Anthony’s phone dings, and he pulls it out to show a text from Mat sent promptly after Rose was out of the cafe.

I think I just asked your neighbor out.

Anthony was beaming, pulling his hand off your mouth while you both watched Mat leave the shop, “This date needs to be perfect.”

“It will be as long as you listen to me,” You say, turning around to cross your arms at him, “Because if this is going to work-”

“You almost blew our cover, I’m in charge here,” Anthony scoffs, “You’re like the worst sidekick in the world.”

“You’re the sidekick here.”

“No it’s you, you’re Robin and I’m Batman.”

***

“Here?”

“No.”

“How about this one?”

“God, no she hates seafood.”

You’d been trying to figure out where you were going to set up Mat and Rose’s first date for hours. Every restaurant Anthony mentioned just wasn’t enough, and Mat was dying for some help from his friend. Anthony was frustrated, mostly with you for not just choosing something and calling it a day.

“This is why you’re single, by the way, because these places are just meh,” You argue, pulling his laptop from his hands, “Where’s the romance?”

“I’ll have you know I’m very romantic,” Anthony scoffs, not having any of your shit, “Ask any girl I’ve ever dated.”

“Seems like they’re all gone, wonder why,” You hum, scrolling through the Google search.

“Fine, how about this? He takes her to a show because you said she loves musicals,” Anthony suggests, pulling the laptop from your hands, “After Mat sets up a dinner by his place because he’s got a sick rooftop and if all goes to plan Rose will be there all night.”

You whip your head around to look at the man next to you, a grin on his face because he very well may have nailed it when it came to a first date. It was simple, yet fancy enough to keep Rose interested, “That just might work.”

You kept your mouth closed about why keeping Rose out all night was going to work for you. You had a date with someone you matched with on Hinge who seemed nice enough and the opportunity to take him home at the end of the night didn’t seem like a bad move. You didn’t want to let that information slip to Anthony, and you didn’t know why. You didn’t like him, and you were pretty positive he was only putting up with you because you were both trying to set Mat and Rose up.

“It’s a date then?” Anthony asks, pulling out his phone to give Mat all the details about the date he should be taking his neighbor on. Anthony made it clear to Mat he’d know, despite the fact that before the other night Anthony hadn’t had so much as a conversation with Rose or yourself. However, he had you and you knew Rose better than anyone.

***

You sat across from your date, twirling the glass of wine in your hand while he talked about his family. Ben was nice, and honestly you were enjoying his company. The restaurant was almost perfect, because knowing it made your rejection list for Mat and Rose’s first date location wasn’t something you could shake. Ben had to be oblivious to it, a delighted smile on his face from across you. Your phone rang on the table, and Anthony’s number popped up for the third time that evening. You knew Rose and Mat were well into their date at this point, and you had the night planned so perfectly nothing could possibly go wrong.

“You can take that if you need to,” Ben suggests, a gentle tone to his voice. You nod, feeling a little bad for stepping away from your conversation to answer the call.

“I’m on a date,” You grit out the second you were out of Ben’s earshot, “Someone better be dead Beau.”

“We’re about to be,” Anthony huffs out, “The chef Mat hired canceled and I have all of these ingredients and I know how to cook three things and they aren’t steak.”

“Beau,” You whisper harshly, “Figure. It. Out.”

“Absolutely not, if this tanks you’re coming down with me,” Anthony begs, “Please come to Mat’s and help me.”

So you did. You loved Rose too much to let this blow up in your face because of Anthony’s inability to cook a meal. Ben was understanding, accepting the excuse that you weren’t feeling well and even offering to pay for your cab back home. You declined, because you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had to bail out Anthony.

By the time you finally got to Mat’s, you could hear a string of curses on the other side of the door and the smell of something burning. You walked in and a pan was practically on fire while Anthony turned around frantically.

“Oh my god, move,” You demand, grabbing the pan and turning down the stove, “You really can’t cook anything?”

Anthony was dumbfounded, standing in Mat’s kitchen letting his eyes wander down your bare legs. You looked good and if you weren’t about to chew him out Anthony might have said something. But you were standing in front of him, arms crossed while you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t you sighed, pushing him out of the way and getting to work.

“Make yourself useful and set the damn table,” You demand, pointing a spatula in his direction. This dinner had to be perfect if this was going to work. You relished in the silence, getting to work on the dinner that you were left to save.

“So how was your date?” You hear Anthony’s voice float back into the apartment, and you turn around to give him a dirty look, “Or did I ruin that?”

“You didn’t totally ruin it, Ben was nice,” You shrug, not really wanting to get into it. The thing was, Ben was nice and that seemed to be a rare thing to find. Sure, you could have done without the boring work talk, but it was better than some of the other dates you’d been on lately.

“Hm, just nice?” Anthony stifles a a laugh, closing his mouth immediately when your eyes narrowed at him, “Sorry. I’ll leave probably boring but nice Ben alone.”

“I used to think you were nice, you know?” You snark back, plating the dinner just as Mat slipped in to grab the food.

“Dude you’re a lifesaver,” Mat immediately thanks Anthony and you had to roll your eyes at the sigh, “Wait aren’t you-”

“Rose’s roommate, uh yeah, she cooks all the time so I called her,” Anthony rushes to explain, the idea that Mat would recognize you going right over his head in a panic.

“Well, thanks you guys really saved my ass,” Mat says, grabbing two plates and heading up to the roof where you knew Rose was probably checking her teeth in nervous panic. 

It took forever to clean up the kitchen, Anthony’s sad initial attempt to cook was disastrous. You probably didn’t help, and by the time you were done cooking you had used every pan in Mat’s apartment. You could hear Rose’s voice in the hall and you both looked at each other in a panic. Anthony grabbed your hand, pulling you into the nearest closet to the kitchen.

“Quiet,” Anthony whispers, your mind far too distracted by your head pressed against his chest to care about just how small this closet was. You were trying to steady your own breathing, the closet was small and when Anthony took up most of the space you could feel a bit of anxiety creeping in. You wrap your arms around his waist, your fingers digging into his sides to grab a hold of quite literally anything. Anthony can feel it, how nervous you were so he took a chance and carded his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down just a little bit, “Just wait until they’re in his room and I’ll take us home I promise.”

You nodded against his chest, closing your eyes and just letting Anthony provide you with any comfort he was willing to give. He was a bit snarky and definitely a little too bossy but he was the best you were going to get for the moment. You hear a door click and with Rose’s giggle on the other side you knew you were in the clear.

“So you really went through all of this just for a few wins?” You break the silence in Anthony’s car, looking out the window while he drove you both home.

“I mean, yeah, when Mat plays his best so do the rest of us,” Anthony shrugs, “Don’t tell me I could be playing better, I’ve heard it enough.”

“I wasn’t going to,” You defend, your voice small, “Do you think we could get them away for a night next weekend?”

“Hot date? Boring Ben doesn’t seem like he’d sleep over until the third date,” Anthony jokes, tapping you on the thigh.

“Sort of, I have my boss’s birthday party and I just want him to hate me less,” You admit, plus the office gossip always seemed to revolve around the fact that you never brought a date anywhere.

“I think you’re impossible to hate, trust me I’ve been trying.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Do you want my help or not?”

***

Everything was going wrong, like very wrong. The bigger plan was actually going the way it was supposed to, Rose and Mat were off to an Airbnb in the Hamptons for a night that Anthony just happened to mention to Mat during practice the day after you cooked them that dinner. That, however, was the only thing going well for you. You were dressed up, the black dress you were wearing looked absolutely killer on you. Your leg was poking out of the slit that was appropriate for a work event and the date you were supposed to be on, but your date was nowhere to be seen. Turns out Boring Ben wasn’t boring at all, or he was just a total douche and you never realized. Regardless, you were dateless yet again, and you had to admit it was a bit of an ego killer too. You thought about not going, but after telling a few of your coworkers that not only were you going, you were bringing a date.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the passive aggressive comments from the newlyweds who seemed to litter your office. You had ten wedding invitations last summer from your coworkers alone, and now you had to show up dateless for what felt like the millionth time in your life.

“Woah,” You hear Anthony’s voice as soon as the elevator opened, a low whistle escaping from his lips until he realized you were without your date, “Where’s that Ben dude?”

“He didn’t show if you really need to know,” You complain and Anthony could feel his heart break just a little.

Anthony sighs, taking a look at his watch and then back at you. You looked hurt, despite the smile plastered on your face that he could see right through. He was going to have a night in, maybe even invite over the girl he’d been hooking up with but in his heart he knew what the right thing to do was, “Give me five minutes to change?”

“No Beau you really don’t have to come, I got stood up, it's on me,” You rush out, stopping Anthony dead in his tracks.

“It’s not your fault that dude was an asshole,” Anthony scoffs, “And you look too good to not have a date.”

Anthony didn’t say another word, unlocking the door to his place and coming back out less than five minutes later in a freshly pressed suit, “No tie okay?”

“No tie is fine,” You squeaked out, watching Anthony fix the cuffs of his shirt. Everyone thinks a man putting on a suit is hot right? It wasn’t just that he looked damn good in it, “You can still back out.”

Anthony didn’t back out, in fact, he was a better date than you thought he could be. He was being a good sport, especially when you came to the realization your boss was a huge Islanders fan. He had Anthony by his side all night, no doubt pestering him about the season. You felt awful, and while Anthony had a smile on his face you couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting him in the situation in the first place.

“I met that boyfriend of yours,” Your coworker Stella says, nudging you with her elbow, “He seems like a keeper.”

“Oh he’s-” You went to deny any indication that Anthony was your boyfriend but you knew Stella better than that, and just like she did at everyone Monday morning team meeting, she was interrupting you before you had a chance to finish your sentence.

“And don’t even tell me it’s not serious he couldn’t stop talking about you,” Stella grabs your arm, and you raise your eyebrows and look at Anthony. He catches your eye, sending you a wink while he goes back to listening to whatever your boss was rambling about, “See? So cute.”

The night was going smoothly, and by the time dinner rolled around you were done for the night. One too many glasses of wine had your head resting on Anthony’s shoulder while your boss's wife made a toast. His hand was resting on the exposed skin on your thigh and if you weren’t convinced you were overthinking it - you may have thought Anthony was putting in a little more effort.

“I’m sorry my boss was chewing your ear off,” You whisper, catching Anthony’s attention, “I don’t want you to think I brought you because you’re you and he likes your team.”

“I don’t think that,” Anthony assures you, his lips just inches away from kissing on the forehead, “And he doesn’t hate you, he told me liked you.”

“He likes you, seems like everyone does,” You muse, after having gotten compliments all night about what a joy your boyfriend was you were sure Anthony was a better date than he was an actual companion.

“Better date than Ben?” Anthony asks, and you nod with a grin on your face.

Anthony wasn’t sure what he was doing or why. In the short time since he invited you into his place he only learned how annoying you can be, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t think it was cute. It was cute that you thought Mat and Rose could actually fall in love. It was cute that you never kept quiet when you were both sneaking around because something got you excited. And it was downright adorable to watch you laugh at your boss’s wife who was teasing her husband in her speech. He liked you, and he never thought about it until he saw the heartbroken look on your face when you told him your date stood you up.

“Ready to go home?” Anthony whispers, your eyes were getting heavier from the wine, and he wasn’t sure how much longer you would hold up until you fell asleep on his shoulder. Not that Anthony would have minded at all, he might even have preferred it.

By the time you’d gotten back to your apartment building, you made it clear why you limited yourself on wine at events. Anthony kept refilling your glass before you had a chance to stop him, and now he was practically chasing you down the hall because you insisted on running away for no reason at all.

“For a professional athlete you’re pretty slow,” You poke Anthony in the chest, who was currently fishing through your purse for your set of keys. He finally finds them turning them into the lock and opening the door, “Beauuuu.”

“Yes?” Anthony asks, grabbing your waist while you tripped over your heels.

“Do you think Mat really likes Rose?” You ask, the question wasn’t really for Anthony at all. It was coming from a guilty feeling that had been stewing inside of you for a few days. Rose seemed smitten, and a part of you knew a lot of those dates were just planned by you.

“He does, it’ll all work out,” Anthony assures you, because the frown on your face told him that if he didn’t he was about to have a crying Y/N on his hands and he didn’t want to be the one to make you cry.

“Promise?” You ask, finally slipping off your heels and leaning against the doorframe. You wanted him to stay, use the age old it’s late excuse for a few more hours where he was close to you. His apartment was across the hall, and asking him to stay would be silly. You watched him head out the door, turning around to give you one more look and answer your question.

“Yeah I promise.”

***

This entire thing had gotten out of hand, and Rose and Mat’s relationship was becoming a chore. You had stopped them from killing each other twice in the past week, texting Anthony almost exact directions on how Mat was going to fix whatever stupid he said. Mat didn’t know, or maybe he did and he didn’t care to say anything about how with your help his relationship with Rose would be over before it started. Now, you were hiking across the city for flowers so Mat could apologize to Rose for forgetting her mother’s name as if she didn’t talk about her family constantly. You finally got them to Mat’s wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead when a text came that rocked your world.

I think I love Mat, he literally had these delivered after I got mad at him.

Attached was a picture of the flowers, and a guilty feeling churned in your stomach while you made your way back to your place. You stopped in the hallway, looking at Anthony’s door biting your lip and thinking about what the consequences of this all really was - and it was eating at you.

You were fucked, completely and utterly fucked. It seemed wrong, like everything in your best friend’s love life was a lie you created because it was. So you panicked, and snuck away to Anthony’s without a second thought. You knocked twice, a sleepy hockey player appearing on the other side. 

“Rose is in love with Mat,” You state, pushing Anthony into his own place and walking past him.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Anthony asks, watching you pace through his apartment.

“It’s not real, everything Mat knows about Rose is because you told him,” You explain, stopping in the middle of the room, “We planned their dates, we did everything, and when they realize they might not as much in common as they think Rose is going to be heartbroken and-”

“So, you got what you wanted? She’s always over there,” Anthony counters back, not mentioning the hot streak his teammate was on.

“You don’t see anything with this?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the man you thought you knew in front of you, “That your friend is going to be with someone when their relationship is built on a lie.”

“You act like he’s going to marry her,” Anthony groans, not even realizing until after the words left his mouth about how awful that sounded. Your jaw had dropped, your eyes wide while you look at Anthony, “Wait Y/N-”

“I’m telling them the truth,” You say, a stoic robotic tone to your voice. You thought about telling Rose just minutes before you left your place, but you stopped yourself before you ratted out your friend. Now, it seemed like it didn’t matter. Anthony was going to be a selfish asshole regardless of what you did and you weren’t going to let that sham of a relationship continue, “I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid idea to begin with.”

***

You walked out of Anthony’s life after that, and in the week that’s passed since, he was miserable. He didn’t know what you told Rose, but he definitely heard the arguing you were having with her from across the hall. He knew he should have stepped in, but the way you looked at him when you left was the only reason he didn’t. You looked at him with such disdain, like the mere indication that he didn’t care about his own friend’s feelings were the most awful thing he could have done.

Maybe it was, either way the guilt was eating Anthony alive. He called, but you never picked up. He texted you, using some dumb excuse about needing to grab a package outside his door while he on a road trip but an answer never came. Hell, he even tried to email you. The only thing left to do was walk across the hall and knock on your door, if you were even still there.

“Dude you’re doing it again,” Mat says, tossing a chip at his teammate and catching Anthony’s attention, “Just go over there and apologize.”

“Did you apologize to Rose?” Anthony huffs, annoyed with Mat’s attempt at giving him any advice.

“I didn’t have to because this was your fault,” Mat explains, reminding Anthony of exactly what happened after you left his place. You told Rose everything, and after what Anthony heard as a nasty fight - Rose and Mat spilt up once they realize they actually had nothing in common, “And fuck you dude because I still apologized to Rose after that.”

“Fine, I’ll go over,” Anthony budges, stomping out of his own place and across the hall to yours. He knocked twice, hearing some shuffling on the other end. The door finally clicked open, and when Anthony was met with Rose’s face, his shoulders slumped.

“She’s not here,” Rose leans against the doorway, her arms crossed at Anthony, “We’re, uh, taking some time away from each other.”

“This wasn’t Y/N’s fault it was mine,” Anthony rushes to explain, the reality of ruining someone's friendship settling in.

“I know it was,” Rose assures him, because she’d forgiven you just three days after you told her the truth. That wasn’t enough for you to come home, because your own guilt was eating you alive, “She feels too bad, and she doesn’t want to see you.”

That was it, Rose’s words were enough to have reality really settle in. Anthony Beauvillier was a massive asshole, and the reason you weren’t back in your own apartment. He did that. He was going to have to live with that guilt. And he didn’t know how to fix it.

***

It had been a month.

You didn’t know why you knew exactly how many days it’s been since you stomped out of Anthony’s apartment and into your own to tell the truth. But, you did know that exactly thirty days prior that’s just what you did. You told Rose everything, from the stupid plan to your own stupid feelings that seemed to

cloud your judgement. She was upset, and she had every right to be. You knew that she could have kicked you out of the apartment and told you to fuck off, and she did. Three days later, a much calmer Rose was on the phone telling you everything was fine and you could come back home.

You didn’t want to, because you knew Anthony was across the hall living his life just the way he had been before you stepped into it. He was going to go out on dates with girls that weren’t you, and go off on road trips for games he needed to play. He could set Mat up with someone else if he really wanted to, but none of those things would ever involve you again. You packed your stuff, and moved into a new place after couch surfing by a few of your friend’s places.

“You’re depressed,” Rose kicks your leg from the other side of your new couch, a movie night to celebrate your new place was in full effect, “I told you I’m not mad about the Mat thing.”

“I know,” You sigh, staring at the glass of fruity pink wine Rose had brought over, “I just-”

“You miss him,” Rose muses, a knowing look on her face, “It was never about Mat and I, it was always using us as an excuse to see each other.”

“It was about you guys at first,” You defend, staring at the blonde across from you who was looking at you intensely.

“He came and looked for you, after a week,” Rose says, holding onto the tidbit of information she’d been saving for almost a month, “I think he wanted to apologize.”

“Well he didn’t so it doesn’t matter anymore,” You snap back, Rose melting back into the couch to avoid being the next stop on your rage tour. You didn’t want to care about Anthony or his stupid biceps again, but you never stopped thinking about him.

***

Anthony wasn’t doing much better, in fact, he was doing a whole lot worse. He felt like shit, he was playing like shit, and he seemed just like Mat was when he came up with that stupid plan. He tried to throw himself into hockey, push his body where it had never gone before because then he wouldn’t have to think about you. He wouldn’t have to think about how much of a romantic you were or how you helped with even if he didn’t deserve. Most importantly, he wouldn’t have to think about how heartbroken you looked when he told you he didn’t want to come clean because it didn’t matter.

Anthony was doing the same thing he’d been doing all month, stalking your social media profiles in an attempt to see if you were doing okay. He knew you moved, and if he wasn’t on the West Coast maybe he would have stopped you. A text from Mat came in, one that had him rolling his eyes.

My rooftop in twenty it’s an emergency.

***

What Anthony didn’t know was that the same text was sent from Rose’s phone to yours just a few minutes prior. You rushed over Mat’s, absolutely terrified about what you could have been walking into. Except, when you got up to the roof there was nothing. No Mat. No Rose. Just yourself and-

“Fuck,” Anthony whispers, opening the rooftop door to reveal you on the otherside. It was just you, standing there just as confused as he was by the cryptic text from his teammate, “Uh Mat texted me to come?”

A grin threatens to break out on your face, just as the gears were starting to shift in Anthony’s. You were being set up, of course not as well as you would have planned, but it was a set up nonetheless.

“You know what they’re doing right?” You ask, breaking the silence. Anthony just nods, running a hand over his face without saying a word, “I’m going to go-”

“No,” Anthony rushes out, grabbing your arm and intertwining his fingers with yours, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry? You made me cry for weeks and almost blew up my longest friendship and all you have to say is sorry?” You questioned him, waiting for Anthony to come up with something better than that.

“What do you want me to say? That I didn’t want to stop doing this because I didn’t want to stop hanging out with you?” Anthony exclaims, “Because that’s the truth. I was being a selfish asshole, and I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I feel awful for what I did to you. I was so scared to come and apologize because you have every right to tell me to go fuck myself and never speak to me again. The problem is, I want to talk to you. I want to listen to you talk about why you were a hopeless romantic, and take you home after you drank too much at a work thing. I-”

Anthony couldn’t finish his rant, because you pressed your lips against his before he had the chance. His hands were on your face, pulling you as closely as he could because he needed this kiss to show you that he wanted you. You finally pulled away, breathless while Anthony’s hands snuck down to your waist. His forehead was against yours, your noses bumping together while he whispered his next words.

“We’re not telling Mat this worked.”

“Oh definitely not, no more set ups?”

“Unless it’s me setting up our first date, consider it a promise.”

[may-fanfic]

In A Minute 

summary: natasha wasn’t the same since the blip and after 5 years, she finally found a sense of hope, only for it all to come crashing down for you when Natasha doesn’t return like she’s supposed to 

warnings: death, angst 

rating: 18+

word count : 2,473

a/n: just watched endgame again and im grieving so i wrote this enjoy the angst 

masterlist 

((feel free to send in any request you may have))

--------

Natasha watched closely as you moved things around her office, throwing away things that you deemed useless which was nearly everything in the messy office. she had been in such a rut and you knew it couldn’t be good. you knew Natasha had been close to everyone on that team and she had felt like pieces of her went missing.

“you don’t have to do that,” she stated from her seat, her eyes growing watery. it has been nearly five years since the blip and you knew if Natasha kept up this way, she wouldn’t be useful, like thor and you couldn’t lose nat too.

you dropped the mess of papers in the bin before making your way over to the girl who stared hopelessly at you. you noticed the bags under her eyes and her chapped lips. she was wearing the same sweats from the last time you saw her.

“natty, I need you to be at your best.” Natasha looked like she lost some weight and you wondered when she had her last meal. she shrugged lightly, her lips quivering as she did so. you moved to kneel in front of the avenger placing your hands on her thighs, resting your chin against her knee.

“I miss you nat.” you knew that you saw her nearly every day but you missed the person she used to be, before Thanos and everything. she was always so carefree and happy and now it seemed that the smallest thing could tick her off. your comment made her eyes flow freely as her shaky hands came to rest softly against your cheeks.

you leaned against her warm hands causing her thumbs to brush against your cheekbones. “Just please take a break for me, baby,” you begged her, your own eyes turning watery and when she nodded, you leaned up catching her lips in a soft kiss.

it had been a while and Natasha forgot how much she missed it. you pulled away too fast for her liking but she figured she’d save the kissing for later. you had continuously promised her that you and her would figure it out, in due time and maybe you had been right to tell her to worry less.

------

Natasha had moved through the compound, drying her damp hair with a small towel before she stopped at the kitchen, watching quietly as you moved through the area, setting the plated food on the table and it dawned on her all at once that, yeah, she lost a lot of her loved ones but you were still here and she hadn’t been appreciating that enough. she knew she’d completely lose it without you. you turned to catch her warm gaze and the tiny smile that had formed on her lips.

"come here,” she muttered setting down her towel and opening up her arms. you were quick to move into her embrace, resting your face in the crook of her neck as her arms found your waist, reeling you impossibly closer as you hook your arms around her shoulders, letting a soft breath go when her arms tightened around your waist.

"I miss this." she purred out, her hands rubbing up and down your spine with ease. as much as she didn't want to think about everything going on, she couldn't help it. she nuzzled her face into the nape of your neck, breathing in your sweet scent. it made her feel safe, feeling you so near made her feel whole and all she wanted was to soak up this moment as much as she could because it was perfect. everything about you was perfect.

"me too." you breathed out, your eyes falling closed, taking in the feeling of her hands over your back. this was the Natasha you missed, the one who was always so careful and affectionate with you.

------

when ant-man came along, rumbling about time travel, it gave Natasha a sense of hope. finally, for the first time in five years, she felt like they had a chance to turn all this around and you wanted to believe it for her sake because she seemed so happy, so you went along with the man's theory. you knew Natasha just liked to feel useless, she hated just sitting around and waiting for something to happen.

the night before the mission, Natasha could hardly sleep as she gazed over your soft expressions. she knew that there was always a risk when it came to the things they did but she hoped everything worked out perfectly. she just wanted everything back to normal.

she reached her hand over to gently caress your cheek. your eyebrows knitted together, letting out a soft sigh in your sleep and she couldn't help but grin at you. she thought about the chance that something would happen to you throughout all this, she knew she wouldn't be with you and the fact that she wouldn't be able to protect made her feel uneasy.

she couldn't lie and say she had no fears when it came to what was to come but she knew it would work out exactly how it was meant to and with that sobering thought, she drifted off to sleep.

-----

your hand was tighten entangled with hers after you both had been suited up, you had a moment with just each other. Natasha liked the comfortable silence but she also had so much to say to you, she just didn't know how to say it so she was glad when you spoke up first. "I love you," you whispered out, turning your attention over to the girl who looked down at you with a gentle smile. "I just wanted to say that in case-"

"I love you too," she uttered out quickly, her smile growing when she noticed the way your cheeks burned a bright pink. "everything's gonna be okay, love." she reassured, her fingers caressing gently at your knuckles. "it's only gonna be a minute." she reminded you with a smile and for a second you felt at ease, simply looking up at the woman whom you loved dearly.

"longest minute ever," you whispered gaining a soft laugh from her as she turned her body to embrace you completely. you rested your head against her chest when she pulled you into her. her hand came up to hold your head in place while the other wrapped securely around your waist. she brushed a soft kiss to your hairline, holding you as close as possible.

"Alright girls, let's go."  clint tapped on Natasha's shoulder and she reluctantly let you go, offering you a sweet smile as she took your hand and walked you up the platform. you couldn't hear steve's speech over the sound of your heartbeat, it was louder than ever. you knew he was finished when Natasha squeezed your hand softly to get your attention.  her smile was wide, she seemed so excited and ready to take on whatever would come in her way. "see you in a minute, baby." you smiled back at her when she brought your knuckles up to her lips to press a soft kiss against them. just a minute, you reminded yourself when she let your hand go.

you wish you knew before that would be the last time you'd see Natasha because then you could tell yourself to not let her go, you'd go back in time to kill ant-man before he could even give them the idea but that wasn't the case and you had to live with the repercussions of it all.

-----

your mission with thor and rocket went pretty smoothly, for the most part, you let rocket take the lead and when thor was under control, it worked out perfect. you got the stone and headed back in no time and you were happy for thor who got the closure he needed. he seemed unstoppable at that moment.

Natasha's mission was mind-boggling, she and clint sat around for moments, trying to figure out a way for the both of them to come out of this alive but there wasn't any way around this, Natasha knew what she had to do. her mind was made up as she thought of you, your smile, your voice, everything.

she knew clint had a family and there was no way she'd leave them without their dad but the thought of leaving you pained her. she knew how broken up you'd be because she promised she'd come back for you and now she wouldn't be. she hoped you could understand it one day. with shaky hands, Natasha pulled out a necklace that she swore around her neck, smiling down at the ring that she was determined to give to you one day. you'd always asked her about the random ring that hung from her neck and she'd always tell you that she just found it one day. she didn't want to tell you that it was for you, it'd ruin the surprise.

she always saw herself growing old with you and now that didn't seem possible. she wrapped her hand around the ring completely bringing it up to her lips to press a gentle kiss to it as if it was you at that moment, she wished it was. "whatever it takes." she spoke softly as she shot up from the rock she sat on. clint turned to her with tearful eyes whispering something, she couldn't listen to him right now.

"listen, clint-" she cut him off, reaching for his hand and dropping the necklace into his hand before balling it up for him. "tell her I love her okay?" tears fell past her eyes but the wind was knocked out of her when clint flipped her on her back, they fought for a moment but ultimately, she won as she dove off the cliff, stopping Clint from his demise.

there was a second of regret when clint cried out for her to hold on but then she imagined all the stress she felt for the past 5 years and she knew if she hadn't done this, her life would be full of regret. "it's okay." she smiled up at the man, tears in her own eyes. "it'll be okay." he cried even harder but before she could regret it more, she kicked herself off using the cliff and fell.

when clint opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by water, his tears clouded his vision as he opened his hand along with the soul stone,  was the necklace. he wasn't thrilled about having to see you.

----- everyone cheered when they were returned to the platform, the smiles on their lips had you grinning before your eyes locked with clint's tired, tearful ones and then you noticed the empty space beside him.

"Clint." you tried but your voice shook so much when he met your eyes. "where's natty?" he didn't have to say anything for you to know that she wouldn't be coming back. your eyes filled with tears as he began apologizing to you. everyone else was too quiet and it made your cries echoed in the room.

"no... no... she was supposed to come back! where is she, clint? what did you do?" you slammed your hands against his chest when he made his way over to you. you hated him so much right now. deep down, you knew it wasn't his fault but you'd blame just about anyone right now.

"where is she?" you cried harder when he forced you into a hug, trying your hardest to break free of his hold but he was strong and after a moment, you stopped fighting.  you couldn't stop your cries as the thought of never seeing the love of your life again replayed in your head. none of this made any sense, she was just here and now she was gone forever. "I'm so sorry." he cried out with you, rubbing softly at your back. when you weren’t strong enough to stand anymore, clint tugged you down on the floor with him, hugging you tightly into his embrace but nothing could ever be better than Natasha's.

she was the only one you wanted to see when you came back, she was the only one that didn't come back.  your cries shook you as you tried to rack your head around it all. why couldn't she just come back? there wasn’t anything anyone could say to ever make you feel better. you just wanted to see her again and if you couldn't get that, you'd never be happy. everything was suddenly ripped away from you, you needed her.

------

you felt solemn as you sat in the church, your eyes drifted over to the empty coffin then it was the big picture that was placed beside it. there she was in all her glory, you'd do anything to have her back. tears flowed freely from your eyes as you snapped your gaze back to your hands. the funeral ended an hour ago but you didn't have the energy to move.

you couldn't do anything, what was life without Natasha? you were so wrapped up in your thought that you hardly noticed the body that sat beside you until his hand hovered over yours for a moment. "she wanted me to give you this." he spoke softly and when his hand left, the necklace laid in your hands. you stared blankly down at the familiar ring that hung from it, feeling the fresh tears stream from your eyes. "you know, she loved you." he whispered, his lips quivering as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

"I'd never seen her so in love before you, she was crazy about you." you let out a small laugh through your cries as you glanced up from the ring over to clint. he offered a sad smile, his free hand coming up to brush away your tears. "she'd always talk about marrying you." he whispered, nudging his head in the direction of your hands almost to explain the gift he handed you.

"I wish she was here to tell me that," you whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder. you would've married Natasha in a heartbeat had you gotten the chance. "I know..." he spoke softly, his eyes trained on the picture of her in the front of the church. "she's a hero," he uttered, trying his best to comfort you.  "she brought my family back... I just wish there was something I could do to repay her." you nodded, your eyes moving back to the perfect diamond ring, you could almost feel her on it.

you knew Natasha died a hero, she died doing what she was meant to do. it was hard to imagine your life without her but you knew in some way, she'd always be here.

[romioneficfest]

Saying the Words

Title: Saying The Words Prompt/Day: The Burrow's Living Room (Day 03) Tumblr name:  Rating: PG-13 Brief summary: Ron works up the courage to tell Hermione something important. Then he has to do it again. Any possible triggering/warning tags: Curse words

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

Exhaustion had left them nearly dead on their feet, the adrenaline rush of battle long gone, leaving two weary teenagers in its wake. Hand-in-hand, Ron and Hermione shuffled up the stairs and collapsed into his bed in Gryffindor tower, unwilling to separate even for a moment.

His arm wrapped around her protectively, her head rested on his chest, tucked perfectly under his chin as they escaped into a cocoon of safety. They had lived. They had a future, hopefully together.

Ron stared up at the ceiling of his four poster, building up his courage while cradling her small body to him. Suddenly energized, he couldn't contain himself any longer and the words started spilling out of him at a breathless pace. Words he'd wanted to say to her for years. How much she meant to him, how much he admired her, and how long he'd held back from revealing his true feelings.

How much he loved her.

Never in his life had he been so eloquent and passionate, his voice low in the empty room. He'd practiced the speech in his head a thousand times, but it came out even better than expected. His maturity and the growth he'd made were on full display, spurred on by wanting to be better. Both for himself and for her.

He finally stopped, his chest pounding. He felt as light as feather, the burden of years of hidden feelings finally off his chest. He awaited her response, but all that came was a snore.

She clearly hadn't heard a word and must have fallen asleep almost instantly, surrounded by his warmth. They had been through a lot, after all.

"Bloody buggering fuck," he whispered under his breath.

He silently cursed a few more times and closed his eyes, groaning despondently under his breath as the deep tiredness and disappointment claimed him.

He'd have to confess his feelings one more time—when she was actually awake to hear them.

~*~

The next morning, everything changed. The somber mood around the castle put a hold on any romance, the weight of everything that had happened, the mourning and loss, took priority.

The next few days were split between Hogwarts and The Burrow. Everyone was suffering, not only from Fred's death, but those of their friends and schoolmates. They threw themselves into work in both locales, the only viable way they had not to sink into their collective sadness.

Mrs. Weasley insisted that the usual sleeping arrangements remained, and no one was in the mood to challenge the grieving mother, no matter how old-fashioned it seemed. They all accepted it, even Ron, who was aching to spend more time with Hermione so they could support each other through this difficult time.

Despite that, there were rare moments where they had a minute or two alone. Just as Ron was about to break into his speech again and tell Hermione everything he felt, they would get interrupted.

First it just seemed like bad luck, but every time it happened, Ron's frustrations increased. Whether it was Neville or McGonagall asking for their help with another task, or one of his siblings barging in at the exact wrong moment, it seemed like fate was working against him. Ron knew Hermione would want to retrieve her parents soon, and he needed to tell her before then. He desperately wanted to go with her, knowing she'd need his support.

After missing yet another a chance to tell her, when Ginny unceremoniously burst through the door of his Dad's shed to let them know breakfast was ready—stopping only to waggle her eyebrows at him as she dragged Hermione away to help her set the table—Ron's frustrations reached its peak. He would have to deal with his nosy family first.

~*~

With another long day of rebuilding Hogwarts over, the family Flooed into The Burrow's living room late in the evening, one-by-one dropping into whatever seating was available. Arthur and Molly bade their children good night and went straight upstairs.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked as she flopped her head onto Harry's shoulder, stifling a yawn.

"She's still helping Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing." Ron replied. "You can go to sleep if you want, Ginny. I'm sure she'll be back late, so I'll wait up for her."

"Can't sleep without a good night kiss?" George teased innocently, causing his siblings to snigger, easing the tension of the long, tough day.

Ron rounded on his family. "I haven't had a second of privacy with her, thanks to all of you." He stopped to run a hand through his hair. "Are you purposely trying to mess this up for me?"

"No, but it is rather funny. Besides, we know why you want some private time," Charlie responded, making a kissing face.

Ron sputtered, his ears turning red with fury, his frustrations from the morning returning and boiling over. "It isn't like that."

Percy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's perfectly fine, Ron. We were all young once."

Ron clenched his fists. "IT. IS. NOT. LIKE. THAT."

"Then what is it?" Ginny asked.

"I WANT TO TELL HERMIONE I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!"

He hadn't heard the whoosh of the Floo behind him during his outburst, but Hermione's squeaked gasp was unmistakable in the dead silent room.

Ron was a statue, unwilling to turn around and make things even more awkward, certain that he'd said far too much. That he'd ruined things with his effing feelings. His siblings stared at him sympathetically, as if they weren't to blame for the whole debacle.

Arthur suddenly cleared his throat from the landing of the stairs. "Upstairs to bed, you lot. Give your brother some privacy."

Fleur stopped to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before grabbing Bill's hand. Harry gave him a shrug and Ginny had a huge grin on her face as Ron watched them all ascend, leaving him and Hermione alone.

Ron took a deep breath and steeled himself, before turning around to face her. Even though she looked completely knackered, she was the most beautiful girl in the world to him.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replied.

"So, er, you heard that."

"Yes." Hermione's eyes searched his, her voice low. "Did you mean it?"

He stared back, trying to get any kind of indication of what she was thinking or feeling. She seemed frozen, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability as they teared up. He just wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go.

"I, um, yeah. I did mean it. That wasn't how I wanted to tell you, but I meant it. I had a whole speech prepared and everything."

"You did?"

He nodded slowly, still unsure of her reaction to such a big step. "I said it the night after the battle, but you fell asleep and didn't hear a word of it."

Before he could react, Hermione was in his arms, kissing every inch of his face.

"I love you, Ron. I love you," she kept repeating. So caught up in their embrace, they failed to register the shouts and catcalls from the now packed landing.

She gripped him fiercely as he hugged her to him, his face buried in her bushy hair as he sported a giant smile on his face.

"Alright, show's over."

Bill steered the family back up the stairs, leaving them in silence.

Ron couldn't help but whisper in Hermione's ear. "Do you think I'll ever get to snog you without an audience?"

"Now seems as good a time as any."

[kstewdeux]

Tumblr Exclusive For No Raisins

Five Stages of Grief

Struggling to breathe, Inuyasha clutched Kagome’s battered body tightly against his chest - one hand pressing against the wound on her back while the other pressed her ever colder hand against his heart. This was his fault. Completely his fault. That attack had been thrown and he ducked without taking into account the miko’s position. By the time he realized where she was, there was no time to take the hit for her and...and...

“You’re okay” Inuyasha choked as tears streamed down his cheeks and he buried his face in Kagome’s blood soaked hair, “You’ll be fine. It’s just...it’s just a flesh wound. Nothing deep. Just...just stay with me, huh?”

A whine escaped him as the scent of death began creeping into her scent. With trembling hands, he had tended to her wounds as best as he could but it wasn’t enough. At a certain point, he could barely feel his own fingers and every clumsy attempt to stitch up the numerous wounds wound up hurting her more. It wasn’t like this was his first time tending an injury that way. He’d done it thousands of times on himself with even cruder implements than what his miko carried with her from the future but his hands wouldn’t cooperate just like everything else in his body. Amber eyes - usually able to see every blade of grass - could barely see what they were doing. His lungs were barely taking in air and it took everything he had left in him not to simply pass out.

So he stopped trying since all he was doing was making her worse. Oh, he applied bandages and ointments and forced her to swallow those fever pills but she was bleeding out before his very eyes. There was nothing he could do for her. He had failed her in every possible way and now all he could do was pray.

To add insult to injury, the smell of graveyard soil had been steadily growing stronger over the last agonizing hour. Kikyo knew. She knew Kagome was dying.

“You can’t have her,” Inuyasha spat hatefully as the last person he wanted to see came into view, “She’s going to be fine. You’ll see. So...so you can’t take her soul. I won’t...I won’t let you.”

Closing his eyes, Inuyasha tried to find the will to stand and fight but it simply wouldn’t come. With Kagome slipping through his fingers so too did his own desire to live to see another day. He didn’t want to go back to a world without his miko in it. He simply wouldn’t survive.

Squeezing Kagome’s hand as tightly as he dared, Inuyasha tried to muster up more strength from the simple touch to no avail. So he restorted to desperately clutching her to him with both hands like he could hold in her soul through that action alone. The motion aggravated her wounds but with as far gone as his miko was in that moment, she didn’t even react and that sent his panic to all new heights.

“How was she hurt?” came Kikyo’s softly spoken reply and Inuyasha shook his head - burying his nose into ebony locks as his own heart struggled to beat. The scent of Kagome’s impending death was suffocating.

“Inuyasha look at me,” the undead miko commanded in a gentler tone than he’d heard in quite some time. When he merely whined and more tears fell, Kikyo tried to cross the distance between them but stopped at the menacing growl he used to warn her.

“You can’t have her,” Inuyasha managed shakily as he clutched Kagome tighter still. Like the action itself would keep the soul inside its vessel, “She’s mine. She’s mine and I promised...I promised to protect her.”

His voice cracked on that last word and the undead miko felt her unbeating heart crack at the sound.

“She needs new bandages,” Kikyo sighed, “And you’re in no state to...”

“Don’t touch her!” Inuyasha barked as yet more tears fell - one clawed hand blindly swiping to maintain distance through intimidation, “Stay...stay back. I’m warning you!”

Kikyo took another step and Inuyasha’s face contorted in pure unbridled rage.

“Take one step closer and I’ll destroy you,” the hanyou snarled between clenched teeth as his eyes flashed red, “I said you can’t have her bitch so back the fuck up!”

Kikyo let out another sigh before glancing at her soul collectors who nodded subtly and began gliding towards the grieving half-demon who watched with somewhat panic stricken eyes as they moved closer.

“Get those things away from me!” Inuyasha snapped desperately as he tried to get to his feet but any strength he had had long since fled his body, “What...what about you can’t have her did you not understand?!”

“Inuyasha I’m not going to...”

It was becoming terrifyingly obvious that something was wrong with him. Despite his best efforts, his body wouldn’t cooperate and every attempt to scramble to his feet and run resulted in his crumpling to the ground. His worthless ass couldn’t protect her.

He already failed but....

“If...if you need to take someone take me,” Inuyasha bargained desperately as one soul collector gently wrapped around his elbow and his body suddenly wasn’t his own. His grip weakened and he watched with heartbroken eyes as another soul collector wrenched Kagome from his arms, “I’ll go with you. I swear I’ll go with you. You can kill me or...or do whatever. I don’t care. Just...just don’t...”

A soft cry escaped him as Kikyo knelt down beside the one person who made his life worth living and gently rested one hand on Kagome’s stomach.

“Kikyo please....please don’t hurt her,” Inuyasha begged miserably as the soul collector immobilizing him pinned both arms behind his back. Kikyo was going to make him watch?! Didn’t she see he was already broken enough already? Why...why destroy him completely? What would be the point?! Did she really hate him that much? He...he’d never done anything to her. Defended her even at the expense of his own happiness. Even though it killed him inside. Every time he returned he had to face the betrayal in Kagome’s eyes which was more painful than any injury he’d received. Ruined every chance he had to be loved for the sake of someone who wanted nothing more than to make him suffer. Hadn’t he done enough? Sacrificed enough?

Inuyasha closed his eyes and willed his heart to give out. He couldn’t watch this. Another tear slipped free.

“These wounds are deep,” he heard Kikyo hum in a worried voice, “The stitches are too loose. Do you have more thread?”

Letting out a shaky breath, watery amber eyes slowly opened to find Kikyo looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not going to hurt her. I want to help,” Kikyo informed him in a slightly chiding tone before adding quickly, “Kagome is essential to defeating Naraku.”

Exhaling slowly, Inuyasha bit back tears as he tried to find his voice but failed. Kikyo gave him a strangely sympathetic look before glancing at the yellow monstrosity Kagome called a backpack and nodding to one of her soul collectors who clumsily tugged it closer.

Inuyasha felt his soul curl up and die as Kikyo began rummaging through the bag. This was a trick. Make him think she was there to help and then do something awful when his guard was down. There would be no holding Kagome one last time. No ability to say goodbye. She’d leave this world never knowing....never knowing how much he loved her. Swallowing thickly, Inuyasha tried to find the courage to say what needed to say before it was too late but his fear that Kikyo would make Kagome’s death more painful stilled his tongue. Two more tears trailed down his cheeks as he tried to remember how to breathe. Kagome had made him believe, if only for a little while, that he could be something more. That he had worth in his ability to protect and care for others but everyone was right about him. He had failed the one person in the world who thought differently of him from the very start. He was every bit the worthless half-breed everyone had always told him he was. Maybe he should’ve been drowned at birth.

It didn’t even register with him that Kikyo was, in fact, helping. Years of sewn distrust blinded him to the possibility that things were not as dire as they appeared. Whether Kikyo was helping or not, though, the scent of death lingered.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Inuyasha tried to struggle against the invisible bonds as his hardwired instinct to protect Kagome finally kicked in. It had shriveled up and died for a brief moment out of a belief that it was too late to do anything but now that the world has shown him once and for all things could always be worse, the instinct came back full force.

“Stop moving so much,” Kikyo sighed as she continued stitching the unconscious miko’s wounds, “You’ll aggravate your wounds.”

Inuyasha, of course, didn’t even know he was injured so that comment went right over his head. It hadn’t even registered that he also had been the victim of a direct hit that had shredded his fire rat robes and that half the blood that drenched Kagome was his own. Inuyasha honestly placed absolutely no value on his own life and the undead miko sighed sadly at that realization as she finished her task before reaching for the bottle labeled disinfectant. Which by the smell of it would probably hurt quite a good bit once applied.

Kikyo flicked her gaze up at the utterly heartbroken and obviously struggling boy watching with agony riddled eyes for just a moment before deciding she could multi-task.

“Inuyasha fear not. I have no intention of letting her die,” the undead miko began softly before looking at the spray bottle with a confused, appraising eye, “You must calm yourself.”

Again, Kikyo underestimated how very far gone Inuyasha was in that moment. His mind filled with panic induced static that was only growing thicker by the moment. Inuyasha was incapable of hearing anything outside of his own heart pounding in his normally sensitive ears. Breathing had gone completely by the wayside for more reasons than one and kiss goodbye his sense of smell with how congested his nose had become. The slow trickle of blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth was flowing completely unnoticed as his vision blurred and his head lolled. The effort he was expending tried to break free was dimming and his body was refusing to cooperate.

“Set him down,” Kikyo ordered softly as she spritzed the sanitizer a few times and hummed in understanding, “But be careful. Don’t aggravate his wounds.”

Inuyasha felt his body being laid out as he continued watching Kikyo do whatever the hell she was doing. Kagome was so close. If he could move, he could almost reach out and touch her. The undead miko glanced up then followed his gaze with a sad little smile before reaching over, grasping his hand and pulling it a hair away from Kagome’s wrist. Taking the miko’s wrist then Kikyo placed it atop his palm before helping curl his fingers around the thin flesh so his thumb lay just over her vein.

“Can you feel her heartbeat?” Kikyo asked softly as Inuyasha looked up at her with unfocused amber eyes before those same eyes lowered to where his hand was curled around Kagome’s wrist. For a moment he didn’t react at all before a shuddering sigh of relief gave her the answer he couldn’t give out loud. The steady thrum under his fingertips brought him comfort that couldn’t be voiced with words. At least he’d be with her at the end. Small comfort though that was. Maybe he’d be lucky enough to die soon so they’d be born together in the next life. That would be alright. To find out that soul and him really did have a destiny. Just wrong time and place this go ‘round. Vision blurring Inuyasha closed his eyes and focused on Kagome’s weakening pulse.

“It’s okay ‘Gome,” Inuyasha mumbled tiredly as another tear snaked down his dirtied cheek, “Its okay...”

It had to be several hours later that Inuyasha slowly regained consciousness even though his eyes stubbornly refused to cooperate. He was cocooned in something warm and soft. There was a pleasant pressure running along the front of his body too that one arm seemed to be keeping in place. Kagome was nearby, though, which meant he was being protected and cared for. And...and...

Oh no. Ooooh no. Nope. Not good. Definitely bad.

With a painful sounding groan, Inuysha finally forced his eyes open and nearly died on the spot. A short distance away a calm, indifferent looking Kikyo sat petting her soul collector while her two weird child minions maintained a barrier that surrounded him. As for the pressure against his front, one glance down told him that it was a pajama clad Kagome spooned up against his bare chest while the warmth came from the sleeping bag they’d both been stuffed into.

The rest of that day crashed down onto him moments later.

“Shit,” Inuysha breathed as he suddenly buried his nose into Kagome’s hair and inhaled deeply before whining in relief when the scent of death couldn’t be found. A tear welled in the corner of his eye as he squeezed the miko to him as tightly as he dared. He could smell the somewhat fresh blood from her stomach wound even now and...and his own dried blood? Had he been hurt too? He hadn’t noticed...

“Once you were both stabilized, I had my soul collectors arrange you this way,” Kikyo explained impassively as she glanced over at him, “It seemed the logical thing to do.”

Inuyasha set his jaw - nose remaining in Kagome’s hair as amber eyes watched the undead miko wearily. Had Kikyo been trying to help him? That seemed so absurd he didn’t even know where to start.

For some reason, this was the moment he suddenly remembered that Kagome hadn’t been wearing pajamas. And it would appear his undergarments were gone. His eyes widened in horror for a moment before he pushed that thought as far back in his mind as it would go. W-who cared it Kikyo saw them both naked? That didn’t bother him. Nope. Didn’t bother him at all. It was...

This was fine. Fine. An absolutely fantastic turn of events that wouldn’t keep him awake at night due to the crushing awkwardness. The only solace he could find was that Kikyo may have done a mortifying thing but it was done in the course of a not shitty thing so...

The fact that she had done such a thing when both he and Kagome were unconscious did seem to be the thing that convinced him Kikyo didn’t actually mean them harm. She’d had ample opportunity to kill them. They’d both been so far gone the jostling that must have occurred didn’t even wake them.

That didn’t help the blush on his cheeks or the mortification he felt - although the utter relief he felt that Kagome was alive muted both negative emotions considerably.

“Why help her?” Inuyasha asked suspiciously as his hand slid up to pull Kagome’s torso more fully against him.

“Kagome is essential to defeating Naraku,” Kikyo explained before smiling faintly and running one hand across a nearby silver serpent, “And if something were to happen to her, someone I know would be very sad.”

“What?”

Kikyo subtly nodded to herself as she realized that statement went completely over his head. Of course he wouldn’t understand the significance of her repeating back those words Kagome had said to her. Her reincarnation sheltered him from the ugliness of the world and if he had known that he almost lost both of them....

It made all the sense in the world to keep what happened that day a secret. Inuyasha had always been an anxious creature and at that time, he was endlessly torn. Kikyo wasn’t a stupid woman. She knew Kagome hadn’t admitted what should have been obvious. That day that seemed so long ago, it had been Kikyo’s intention to kill the competition and yet her reincarnation refused to say as much. This strange girl made it her job to protect Inuyasha from threats real or imagined. To shelter him from ugly truths he was ill equipped to handle like how the woman he still adored was now a being of evil. Kagome loved him for the good man he was and made it her mission in life to convince him to love himself. A strange girl made for an equally strange boy.

“When I was dying, Kagome risked her life to save mine. On more than one occasion,” Kikyo interrupted vaguely as she looked up into the starry sky, “It seemed only right to repay the favor.”

Inuyasha considered this before relaxing somewhat and rearranging to rest his cheek on Kagome’s hair with his eyes partially closed. It was still insanely hard to focus and his head felt ridiculously heavy for no reason. Still, Kagome was alright and that’s really what mattered.

“I love her you know so...so thank you I guess,” Inuyasha mumbled cautiously as he inhaled deeply and relished in the knowledge that Kagome would live.

“I believe that has been made abundantly clear,” Kikyo admitted with a humorless laugh.

Inuyasha snorted softly but didn’t bother arguing. Whether or not Kagome loved him in return was a question he’d prefer to explore with literally anyone else. Hell, he’d even ask Naraku for his thoughts on the matter before he’d ever try to talk about that remote possibility with Kikyo.

“Thank you,” Inuyasha mumbled after a long period of awkward silence, “For saving her. I...I don’t know what I would’ve done if...if...”

The half-demon couldn’t even finish that statement as visions of him permanently turning into a full demon and wreaking havoc across the land entered his minds eye. In his heart of hearts, he knew what he would’ve done. He would’ve gone insane. Just would’ve lost his damn mind and ran around killing people for no...

“It was the least I could do,” Kikyo sighed as she glanced over at the injured pair, “I will protect you until dawn and then I must leave. I believe you will have healed enough by then to take Kagome to a second location.”

Inuyasha nodded against Kagome’s hair as he gave the living, breathing, not dying miko as light squeeze. Of all the things that had ever happened to him, not one had been as terrifying as that morning. He needed to be more careful in the future. Be more aware during battle. Or, alternatively, he could just throw Kagome down the well and destroy it so this would never happen again. That was definitely an attractive option.

“I know you are a man of few words,” Kikyo offered barely above a whisper, “But perhaps it is time you told her. I have no intention of dragging you away from her. You have done enough.”

Inuyasha wrinkled his nose at that comment but otherwise stayed silent and nodded. Truth be told, holding Kagome against him was rather nice even if his undead typically murderous ex-fiancé was watching. If he didn’t just say screw it and throw Kagome down the well, he might insist they do this more often. If, of course, Kagome woke up and discovered he was holding her. What he’d do if he managed to pull this off without her knowing was an issue for a different day.

“I love you,” Inuyasha whispered in Kagome’s ear as he settled into a somewhat more comfortable position and nuzzled the skin just above her jaw. The warmth and contentment flowing through his veins soon rocked him to sleep and for the first time in his life, Inuysha slept well.

Kikyo watched on with a melancholy sigh as Inuyasha subconsciously snuggled up against his miko in his sleep.Yes, she was a creature born of evil. Yes, she had made many, many mistakes since she’d been so rudely brought back to life. And yes, her feelings toward the injured half-demon consisted of a mixture of love and hate. But something about his scream this night had triggered something she didn’t know she still possessed. A part of herself all but forgotten. She’d literally flown most of the distance toward him and walked the rest. Cautiously, of course. There most certainly a risk he would strike her down and honestly, she wouldn’t blame him.

When she opened her eyes that fateful day, she’d been in denial over so many things. Mind bucking against his insistence that he had nothing to do with her demise. That she had been cursed into this half-life consisting of little more than pain and misery.

Naturally what followed was unbridled rage at the world. Of course, everyone with eyes knew where that path had led her. 

After the anger had subsided, more or less, she’d began to plead with any god who would listen. Obsessed with the desire to return to the ground from whence she came, defeating Naraku became her number one priority. She promised to kill the wicked Onigumo - not out a warped sense of duty but rather because she hoped and prayed that by doing so, she would be freed from this hell. Maybe even gain the affection she once had and even be accepted by the people who once loved her. Inuyasha was a lost cause by that point but Kaede...

Kaede may forgive her yet.

It was the realization that it would be impossible to defeat Naraku on her own and thus not win any favors from the powers that be or forgiveness from her sister that brought her crashing back down to earth. Numb to the world around her,  she no longer cared what happened to her or anyone else. No longer cared whether Naraku won or lost. Yes, she still wanted to be the one who killed that horrid beast but...but she knew...she knew that she would not be there to witness her former love’s victory of defeat. There would be no redemption for her. There was no point even trying to do more than just wander aimlessly and help on occasion if she was in the mood to do so. By and large, however, she didn’t do anything productive any longer.

That was, until today. Something about Inuyasha’s anguished cry made something in her snap. It was the sound of a heart breaking with such devastating force that the world itself stood still. Never, never should he be allowed to make such a sound. Bygones being bygones, Kikyo was determined to stop whatever was the source of his pain. It was unacceptable in her mind for whatever reason.

And with this action, she accepted that this was her fate. Such a bizarre thing to realize at the end of an era. There was no one still living who loved her any longer.

She was truly alone.

“Kikyo,” Inuyasha muttered in a concerned tone as his amber eyes blinked open, “I didn’t know you could cry anymore. What’s wrong?”

Or maybe not.

“You must be imagining things,” Kikyo lied smoothly as she stared into the distance, “Such a thing is impossible.”

“Yeah okay,” Inuyasha snorted softly as he settled back down. A few moments passed before he cleared his throat and offered something he hoped brought the undead miko some peace, “Kaede’s been asking about you.”

Kikyo subtly furrowed her brow and glanced in his direction.

“Why do you say such a thing?”

“There are people who still care about you,” he continued hesitantly, “Just because I don’t love you like that anymore doesn’t mean I still don’t love you as a friend. Kaede I know misses the hell outta ya. Go see her. Old bat’d love a visit.”

Kikyo’s lips twitched upwards as she nodded and sighed.

“That was unkind,” she chided gently, “You should not speak of your elders that way.”

“I knew her when she was a brat and I’m still older than her. I can call her whatever the hell I want,” Inuyasha laughed good-naturedly as he settled back down and gave Kagome’s still form a light squeeze before frowning suddenly and clearing his throat to make a peace offering, “Just...just so you know I’m sorry for what happened. Back then I mean. I should’ve known. I should’ve....”

“It was a very convincing plot,” Kikyo interrupted, “And exposed issues that were already present. I failed you more than you have ever failed me.”

“Is that why you helped Kagome?” Inuyasha asked hesitantly and the undead miko shrugged slightly.

“To be honest I do not know why I assisted,” she lied, “This existence is most strange.”

“I bet,” Inuyasha acknowledged wearily before furrowing his brow, “Does it hurt?”

“This form?”

Inuyasha nodded.

“Not any longer.”

[cupcakemolotov]

My Only Love: Part 2

Well, ages later, and I managed this.

When Stefan and Damon find a coffin holding an original, they hope they find an ally. They find Caroline instead. Part 1 on A03

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; original!caroline; hybrid!Klaus;Canon-Typical Violence; Blood Drinking; Blood and Gore; Character Death (Not OTP); Not Salvatore Friendly; Biting; No Smut Yet

                                                       -

Skirts and nails and lips bloody, her left hand curled carefully around the strange device she had plucked from Stefan’s hand the same way she’d taken his secrets, Caroline swept out of the dank and dreary basement to find just how the world had changed. A hundred years surely had more than one fascinating new thing to marvel at, and she wanted it all. 

But mostly she wanted her husband.

It was unfortunate that the house was both astonishing and an utter disappointment. The windows were boarded, and the time-worn furniture and fading curtains were as alien to her as the wide expanse of the rooms. There were no gas lamps or candles here, but strange and delicate things made from blown glass that hung from the ceiling and turned the room nearly noon bright. Some of it was tacky, the colors were atrocious and who picked out those chairs? 

Did this modern work not believe in pretty yet comfortable? She was quite certain Klaus had insisted on owning a set of chairs just like those in the 1800s and she hadn’t liked them then either. And what was that fabric?

What kind of place had she been put away to rot?

Outside, she could feel the burn if the sun and frustration clawed at her. When her father-in-law had left her to rot, he’d taken everything he could. Her daylight ring, the pretty jewelry Klaus had gifted her the morning of her abduction, her favorite hair combs. But right then it was the lack of daylight ring she raged at the most. 

Caroline stared at what looked to be the front door with impotent longing. Somewhere out there was Klaus, free from the machinations of father who had hunted him all her life and she wanted to see what changes that freedom had wrought, to taste the triumph from his tongue. To feel him beneath her hands, to know they were free. 

It'd only been a handful of hours to her memories since she’d seen him last, but she could feel the ache of centuries in her bones. The lack of the man who had stood with his hand curved around hers for all the years of her life. Her nails dug into her palms, gouging little half moons, and she took a slow breath. 

Klaus has broken his curse. Mikael was dead, and she knew her husband was hunting for her with the same need that sat in her bones. He’d come to her as soon as he knew she was awake. She’d woken in a world where they’d won. Her lips curved as she recalled Stefan’s words, the angry, bitter pill of her husband’s triumphs clear in his gaze. Below her, she could hear him grieving, the death of brother the song that would usher her into this new existence.

It was fitting she decided, for this young vampire who wished to destroy Klaus to understand the pain he wished her to suffer. He’d wanted her family destroyed, and instead sacrificed his own. She’d leave him that agony for a while yet, her compulsion ensuring he would stay where he was, keeping the cooling corpse of his brother company. Right then, she had something far more important to do. 

Carefully, she wiped her fingers clean on the skirt of her dress, mourning the ruined fabric of it even though it was already liberally covered in blood. Stefan had carried no handkerchief to offer her and she had no wish to search the house for something more suitable to wipe her hands on. She’d already seen more than enough of this place, and wished nothing to delay her husband finding her. 

Hands mostly clean, she considered the smooth shape of what Stefan had told her was a phone in her hand. A strange, modern device that connected people's voices to voice, sometimes face to face. A wonderful little thing that would bring Klaus to her, when the sun was high in the sky and she had no way to go to him. 

It was fascinating. Stefan’s explanation of how to use it and just how radio signals worked had been quite poor, when she wished to know every facet of the device. What kind of world had it become that such fascinating technology should be so badly understood by those who used it? 

Klaus would help her learn. 

For a moment, her finger hovered over the strange cover, this screen and she let herself wish this reunion would happen when she was a little more composed. A hundred years, and she was dressed in a relic of the past, dust covered and splattered with gore. The gore bothered her less than the dust, the ancient wrinkles she had no way to improve. And what was the point? She planned, hoped to be quite naked very soon. 

Pushing aside that niggling vanity, she carefully copied the motions Stefan had shown her to work the phone. Thankfully, English itself hadn’t seemed to have gone through so many changes it was completely unrecognizable, the shape and form of letters familiar even if utterly strange in this… digital format. First, the odd thing he’d called a passcode. Then she found the green box at the bottom with the strange symbol, followed by recent calls. 

There it was. His name. Klaus. 

Such a simple thing, such a lifetime of need. 

Pressing his name, her brows drew down sharply as nothing happened. Muttering under her breath a number of curses at incompetent things, she carefully prodded the screen until something changed. An unexpected jolt of noise startled her, a loud sound that she supposed was ringing. She was going to have to have so much to catch up on.

“Stefan, rethought my offer?”

The sound of Klaus’ voice, so clear and with that soft mix of charm and menace she knew so well, unexpectedly clogged her throat. Fingers flying to her mouth, Caroline swallowed hard. It was one thing to hear that her husband had triumphed, but it was another to hear his voice. To viscerally know that he was alive and if she could just get her voice to work, he’d be here. 

“Klaus.” The single word came out rough. There was a sudden, fraught silence, and she wondered if the blasted device had stopped working.

“Who is this?” Klaus’ voice was sharp, dangerously bladed, and her eyes narrowed at the threat she could hear beneath his words. 

“I am told,” she said in tones that had cooled considerably. “That you should be able to understand me as easily as I understand you. If you require an introduction to your wife, century between us or not, I am going to be very displeased, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Behind him, there was a crash, a noise that sounded like bone breaking. Her brows furrowed, ears straining to catch any hint of sound. “What was that?”

“Caroline.” Her name was clipped, a thousand things she couldn’t understand in his voice. “Where are you”?

Spine snapping taut in irritation at the blatant order in his voice, the way he ignored her question, her fingers tightened on the screen. “I believe the vampire Stefan called it a boarding house?”

“Stay there.”

Her jaw dropped as there was sudden silence, the screen changing to once again and it occurred to her that he was no longer listening to her. The screen cracked beneath her grip, and she tossed it away. Clearly her husband had forgotten a thing or two in the intervening years such as her dislike of rudeness.

Stay there. 

As if she was a minion. 

As if they hadn’t seen each other in decades and decades. Blowing out a slow breath, she wrangled her temper. He certainly knew where she was but had given her no indication how long it would take him to reach her. Maybe she should head back downstairs and entertain herself with Stefan until he arrived. 

Debating, she blinked when outside, there was a noise, a blur of movement, and then the door opened with a wrench that nearly removed the door from its hinges. Her breath hitched in her throat, and Klaus stared at her from the perimeter of the room, eyes hotly yellow. 

His hair was shorn shorter than she’d ever seen it, the cut and make of his clothing as strange and foreign as the wolf in his eyes. But she knew him down to her bones, and she took half a step towards him without thought. But when he continued to just stare at her, to watch her with a carefully set expression, her remembered annoyance sprang to the surface. 

Hand sliding to her hip, Caroline stopped moving and narrowed her eyes. Temper and the smallest bit of hurt turned her voice hard. “I cannot believe the very first thing you're making me do after being released from that box is remind you that I am not…”

His face lost its passiveness, something vibrant and wild crossing his face before the distance between them disappeared with the curve of his palm on her jaw, and the press of his mouth, firm and plush and wanting, swallowed her complaint. Hands grasping for the feel of his shoulders, his spine, she pressed back with the same gasping need he always elicited in her, teeth sinking into his lip as both a need to taste and a chastisement for his behavior. He groaned against her mouth, tongue chasing hers as she slicked along the blood, and her head spun as he tangled himself in her skirts as they staggered backwards. 

His palm pressed against the back of her skull as he pressed close and her spine hit the wall, so close that hip, thigh and stomach were all one line of burning contact even with her skirts and his clothes between them. There was nothing passive in his touch or kiss as they let mouths and hands roam, and she dug in with her nails, demanding more. 

When he pulled back, lingering so they breathed heavily against each other’s mouths, his hand left her face to cup her hip, pulling her even closer. His gaze flickered down the line of her chest, to the blood splattered material that was both his and the other vampires, and his mouth curved slow and pleased before returning to her face. When he spoke, his voice was low and raspy, a thousand benedictions behind his eyes.

“Caroline.”

[scarlet-star-witch]

Fade Into You - Part 17 (Mandalorian/OC)

Summary: Din has spent a year grieving the love of his life. While he thinks he has lost her forever, she lingers in the darkness, her mind twisted and manipulated, with no memory of him or the love they shared. What will it take for Din to help her remember?

Warnings: Angst galore and mentions of violence. Cara’s in this and I feel that’s a warning in itself

First Part       Previous Part       Next Part

Din was giddy as he woke that morning. The night before with his wife had only certified his love for her and he could barely wait to see if she was feeling the same type of blinding love that was taking over every part of his being.

The way she’d looked at him the night before had sent pleasurable chills over every inch of his body. He wanted nothing more than to see the same sight and experience the same mind blowing ecstasy he had just hours ago.

His tired eyes opened slowly as his hand searched the rumpled sheets beside him for the heat of her body. 

When he felt nothing, he raised himself on his elbow, fear striking him as his eyes opened fully, pushing past any exhaustion he felt as panic suddenly hit him like an incoming train. 

“El?” His raspy voice called out as he blindly patted the empty sheets next to him, still taken aback by the loneliness that met him rather than his wife that he had been so excited to see.

He sat up fully, his wide eyes searching the space around him, but the room was empty. His heart suddenly began to race wildly. He tried not to jump to conclusions, but after everything they had been through, it was hard not to fear the worst.

“El?” He called again, his voice sounding more frantic as he found it harder to disguise his growing panic.

He stood from the bunk, hastily pulling his clothes on. He grabbed his helmet, the only armour he bothered to put on, and raced out of the cramped room.

“Iella!?”

The silence that greeted him only made his fear grow. 

This was all too familiar of nightmares he’d had in the past. He reached down slowly, subtly pinching himself. The pain he felt was real. The nightmare was real.

He quickly made his way towards the cradle, a flash of relief flowing through him at the sight of it still in its place. He opened the top and let out a long sigh as he saw the baby staring back up at him. 

“You’re ok.” He breathed out, gathering the child into his arms. “Now where’s your mom?” He mumbled. He made his way up to the cockpit, dread soon crashing over him at the implication.

Had she wanted to sleep there instead? Had he been too forward the night before?

The thoughts were quickly shaken off. She was just as eager as he had been, she had been just as pleased as he had been.

He couldn’t think of what could have possibly changed. 

Despite how scared he was at the possibility of her needing space from him, enough to move to the cockpit, he didn’t find much relief to see that it was empty.

Where the hell is she?

He practically jumped back down the ladder into the hull, turning on his heel in frantic circles, looking over every inch of his ship.

“Iella!?” He yelled desperately.

She was taken.

That was the first thought that echoed through his mind, the first explanation for her absence that broke his heart. His breathing became erratic as his mind raced for what to do. 

She had been acting weird the night before, since coming back from the market. He could only deduce that something had happened, something bad enough to spook her. Maybe someone from her past, her manipulated past, that was. 

They must have followed her back and taken her from him.

With a low growl escaping his throat and vengeance clouding his judgement, he stomped towards the weapons locker, practically throwing open the doors. It was a wonder they didn’t break off their hinges.

He moved to grab his blaster, but stopped abruptly. 

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the empty spots in the cabinet, spots where her weapons had been placed. 

They were gone. 

If she was taken, she wouldn’t have been able to grab her weapons, not without a struggle. And he would’ve heard a struggle. 

He looked around the hull again, this time with a more careful eye. Her boots were no longer in their place at the foot of their bunk where she’d hastily kicked them off the night before. Her cloak that she’d shrugged off her shoulders seductively was no longer on the floor where they’d left it.

She left on her own.

His entire body stiffened. His mind raced, trying to think of other possibilities because it was unfathomable to him that she would leave, that she would sneak out in the middle of the night and leave.

Leave him.

He felt his eyes sting with tears and he blinked rapidly, not willing to let them fall or he worried they would never stop. 

It was one thing to believe she was gone from his side after a horrific accident, but to know she was no longer by his side of her own will somehow hurt even more.

She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t leave me, she wouldn’t leave the kid.

He felt almost dizzy with how his brain was trying desperately to piece together what had happened, what he had done to make her leave.

He thought back to all the conversations they’d had, all the times she’d called herself a lost cause, all the times he’d had to reassure her that he was there for her. It hadn’t been enough. She’d reached her breaking point without him even realizing it and it had him wanting to smack himself for being so ignorant.

He hadn’t been enough for her and it practically tore him apart to think he’d been so blind to her plan of escape. 

The fact that she felt she needed to escape from him was enough to ruin every single part of his being. 

He breathed heavily, slowly falling to his knees on the hard floor of the ship, his helmeted head cradled in his hands as he fought hard not to spiral. 

“No, no, no, no.” He whispered to himself, his voice cracking with the emotion that overtook him so overwhelmingly.

Shaking breaths left him and he didn’t even realize his cheeks were wet until he heard the child whine, breaking him from his self-deprecating thoughts. 

He raised his head, his face creasing in confusion as he saw the child scurrying to the closed ramp, his little arm raising to point to it.

“What are you doing, Kid?” Din muttered impatiently, getting to his feet to catch him. As soon as he hauled the mischievous child in his arms, he whined louder, squirming in Din’s grip. 

He frantically pointed to the ramp, his distressed whines and watering eyes striking the Mandalorian deeply. 

“What is it?” Din whispered, suddenly realizing the child wasn’t just upset about Iella’s absence. He knew something.

Din began to pace the ship, frustration building as the child continued to babble worriedly. He wished he could understand the nonsense that left him. There had to be something he missed. This was his job, he looked for missing people all the time, there had to be clues as to where his wife went.

There was no way in hell he was letting this be the end.

His eyes roamed over the ship over and over again, hoping something would suddenly stand out to him, give him any indication about where she could have gone. 

He soon stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked onto the weapon’s locker, and his heart suddenly dropped.

How did I not notice, he scolded himself.

His pulse rifle was missing. 

His stomach twisted with nerves at the realization, pure fear igniting within him like a lit flame.

She wasn’t leaving to escape him, she was leaving to fight. 

His entire body went rigid as he thought back to a conversation they’d had weeks ago, one where, at that time, she’d offered the most terrifying solution he could think of, one he refused to get behind.

I need to find him and I need to kill him.

She wanted to go after Voros and he wouldn’t let her. His own desire to protect her, to keep her away from any more harm that man could cause her overruled her own need to heal from his wounds. He stopped her from getting that and he wanted to kick himself for it now.

She was going on a suicide mission all alone.

It moved him into gear quicker than anything else ever had. He grabbed his weapons hastily, placing his armour on with shaking hands, gritting his teeth with frustration as he found trouble fastening each buckle.

“Come on.” He spat to himself as he messily donned his armour. 

Once it was on properly, he fastened the child into the perch in the satchel that wrapped across his body. He strapped the weapons to his belt and barely a second later, he was lowering the ramp, marching off before it had even fully lowered.

He would find her if it was the last thing he ever did.

He couldn't be too late, he would not be too late.

~~~

Iella kept her head down as the villagers began to start their day, setting up their stands for the market and greeting their neighbours politely. The more crowded the streets became, the more her nerves rose.

Every time she turned a corner, she could see Din. She would squeeze her eyes shut, shake her head of her exhaustion until she realized it wasn’t him. It made tears brim in her eyes every time.

Every step further from the crest was a heavier weight to her chest. 

She moved through the streets quickly, dodging people expertly, ignoring the merchants that called out to entice her to their booths, winding through the crowds with minimal contact. She couldn’t let the opportunity slip through her fingers. She had to find those men who worked for Voros before they left the planet.

She had to find them before Din found her.

Her eyes drifted upwards towards the sun that was now high in the sky, her heart aching. Din was definitely awake by now. He was probably panicking, going crazy trying to find her. 

A loud sigh escaped her at the thought of him, of the night before.

The way he’d held her so tightly yet so gently, the way his lips felt on her skin, the way the scruff on his jaw left tingles on her neck that she could still feel only had her aching to turn right around and run right back into his arms.

It was becoming more tempting the longer she was away from him.

But she couldn’t stray, not when the prospect of killing Voros, of finally getting revenge on her torturer was so close.

She had to keep moving.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest, her pulse thrumming through her entire body nervously, as she approached the loading dock.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the familiar cargo ship Voros always had them use on missions.

She moved in the shadows skillfully and got into position, hauling the large rifle off her back. She breathed out slowly, a calmness washing over her as the familiar aspect of her new life fell into place.

Her finger hovered over the trigger as she awaited her targets.

~~~

Din was racing through the streets of the crowded village. He wasn’t polite as he pushed people out of his way, ignoring the swears and threats that were yelled back at him. He’d followed Iella’s tracks and he knew he wasn’t far behind, but her path was becoming more difficult to follow as more and more people trekked over her footprints.

Heavy pants left his lips, both of exertion and panic as he sprinted his way closer to his wife. The child suddenly let out a cry and he skidded to a stop, looking down in worry and bringing him in closer to his side protectively.

The child squirmed, his little arm reaching out towards an alleyway to their right. The distressed look on his little face was heartbreaking.

Din didn’t question it, he learned not to when it came to his strange powers, and frantically raced to where he was pointing.

He ducked behind buildings to block himself from the view of the few people he saw milling around the small loading dock next to him. He slowed his pace, his eyes frantically searching every doorway, every window, every alleyway, he passed.

He suddenly stopped in his tracks, his eyes going wide as he saw a cloaked figure kneeled on the ground, with a rifle, his pulse rifle, in their hands. 

It was her, it had to be.

An involuntary whimper escaped him at the sight of her and he raced forward, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get to her. He moved swiftly, hauling his wife to her feet and placing a hand over her mouth to stifle the yelp of surprise she let out as he carried her away from the loading dock, away from any potential prying eyes.

She squirmed in his grip, kicking her legs out in defiance, making him wince at the pain in his shins as she struggled to get out of her supposed attacker’s grip. 

“It’s ok, it’s me. It’s just me.” He whispered frantically. 

She finally pushed him off, her eyes dark with hatred as she pulled the knife from her belt, his words not registering to her. She stopped abruptly, the weapon stalling in the air as she looked back at him. Her once rigid body slumped once she finally realized it was him.

Horror suddenly grew in her eyes as the consequences of her hasty decision stared her in the face.

“What are you doing here?”

Din scoffed and shook his head.

“You seriously think I was gonna let you go through with this suicide mission?” He argued back sternly, placing his hands on his hips. “I woke up and you were gone, what the hell did you think I was gonna do?”

“I didn’t want-”

“You thought I’d let you go after him by yourself? You thought I wouldn’t care that you were putting yourself in danger? Fucking hell, Iella, I know you don’t remember me, but after all this time we spent together, you really think that little of me? You think I’d let you do this?”

Iella’s face twisted, her frown growing the more he rambled. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She said softly. It was apparently the wrong thing to say by the way Din threw his hands in the air in exasperation as a harsh laugh of disbelief met her ears. He was pissed and there was nothing she could do.

“What the fuck were you trying to do then?!” He yelled at her. “You can’t just leave! I told you I would be there for you, I told you that no matter what, I’d help you with whatever was thrown at us, and you didn’t trust me, you didn’t believe me, I don’t know what it was, but it fucking hurts, El. You fucking hurt me.” 

Iella straightened her shoulders, schooling her features in a semblance of strength that seemed to be faltering with every word he spat in his harsh tone.

“You also told me I couldn’t go after Voros, that I couldn’t get revenge against the man who tortured me. I didn’t think I could come to you after that. What was I supposed to do?” She argued back.

Din flinched, like her words had physically struck him. 

“You know why I said those things. You know it’s dangerous, you know-”

“I know that I can’t live like this anymore.” She interrupted him. “I know I wouldn’t survive if you or the child got hurt because of me.”

“That’s not gonna-”

“You don’t know that!” She screamed and quickly lowered her head, forcing herself to take deep breaths in an effort to calm down and avoid making a scene. “Gideon’s gone. That means the only threats against us, the only reason we’re still looking over our shoulders is because of me, because of Voros.”

Din stayed quiet, knowing there wasn’t anything he could say against that. She was right and it killed him to acknowledge it. 

“I can’t let you two take the fall for me. I can’t let you get caught in the crossfire.”

Din sighed heavily, his eyes squeezing shut at her words. He remembered a time years ago, when they were still working with Ran and Xi’an, where she had, time and time again, stuck up for the innocent people that got caught in the line of fire.

They were practically the same words she used then.

It killed him to know she didn’t even remember that she’d said those words before, that she was acting exactly like the person he once knew, the person he missed more than anything in the galaxy. 

She had no idea just how much those words decimated him. They rendered him with no fight left.

His silence only kept her on edge, fearing he was still brimming with fury at her, so angry he couldn’t even get the words out.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. “Last night… that was the perfect goodbye and I don’t regret a second of it. I just needed to… be close to you before I did this, in case…” She didn’t finish her sentence, she couldn’t, and Din was grateful for it.

He didn’t think he could stand to hear those words out loud. 

It was silent between them for a moment. It wasn’t long, but to them it seemed to stretch forever. Din let out a shaking breath, trying his best to ground himself, to not let his anger and panic over the situation he’d woken with dictate their conversation now.

Yelling wouldn’t do a thing and it was the last thing she needed now. 

“You know I can’t let you do this.” He said softly.

“I know. That’s why I left.” 

Din winced and shook his head.

“You’re not doing this without me.”

“Din-”

“No. I’m not letting you. If you need to after Voros now, fine. I won’t stop you. But you sure as hell aren’t doing it alone.”

Iella stared at him in shock. She hadn’t expected him to give in, to finally relent to her desire for revenge. 

“Din…”

“That’s all I ask, El, that’s it. I don’t care how dangerous it is, I don’t care about the risks, I’m going with you, that’s final.” He spoke sternly.

Iella paused, staring back at the imposing Mandalorian in front of her carefully, looking for any indication that he was lying, that he was actually trying to persuade her against her heinous plan. But she found none. 

He was all in.

“What were you planning?” He asked, sensing her hesitation. 

She swallowed thickly. “I saw two of Voros’ assassins yesterday. I remembered them, I used to work with them.” 

Din’s body stiffened as he realized that was the reason she had been acting so strange the night before. He thought he wanted to put together all the pieces, but now that they were falling into place, he realized he would rather not know. Ignorance was bliss and the reminder of her manipulated past was agonizing.

“Did they see you?” He finally choked out after a long, stifling silence.

“I don’t think so.”

“So now what?”

“I was gonna… take them out and steal their ship. Show up at the Imperial base and use the element of surprise to my advantage.” Iella explained, realizing once she had spoken it outloud just how risky her plan was.

Din sighed heavily, his head falling back onto his shoulders as he closed his eyes tightly. He could already feel the beginnings of a stress headache forming. 

“And you were really willing to do this alone?” 

“I thought I had to.” Iella shrugged. Din physically flinched at her words and she sighed, bowing her head. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She added quickly. 

“No, you’re right. I haven’t been supportive about this. I was selfish, I wanted you far away from that man. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings, only mine.” 

Iella was left agape at his admittance. She hadn’t seen it that way, she only saw it as him being protective of her, of him not wanting her in any more danger. 

“So we’ll do your plan, but not alone.” He said with determination. “We need more muscle.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have time to make a stop in Nevarro?” 

Iella’s face smoothed as he realized what he was suggesting, who he was suggesting as backup. 

“You sure we should ask her? I feel like we already owe her too much.”

“I’m sure Cara wouldn’t mind another fight.” Din explained simply and Iella found herself unable to argue with that statement. 

She knew the shocktrooper well enough to know better.

“You ready?” Din asked and Iella had to stifle a smile at how willing he was to go along with her plan. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this? I can’t force you to go along with this just because of me. I won’t let you put yourself-”

“El, if you’re doing this then so am I. There’s nothing more to say about it.” He argued. “So tell me what you need me to do.”

Her heart stuttered at his determination and allegiance to her. She knew he’d told her time and time again just how much he was willing to do for her, but to see it, to experience it, was another thing.

It left her breathless.

“I’ll wait for the guys to show up. You help if things get out of hand.” She explained, though she knew they wouldn’t. She could handle taking out two men, it would be the easiest thing she would do that day, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

She noticed the looks of agony he would have on his face any time she mentioned her training with Voros or her skills as an assassin. It was too much for him to handle.

And she knew she had put him through more than enough already.

“I’ll be right beside you.” He assured her and she couldn’t even describe the feeling that coursed through her at his words.

Silently, they moved back into the stealthy position he had first found her in. 

He let her keep her grip on the pulse rifle, knowing - no matter how much it hurt him - that she could handle it. Din pulled out his own blaster, pointing it at the same ship he saw her aim on. 

“I am sorry, you know.” Iella whispered after a long moment of silence. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I left because I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want Voros to use you as a pawn against me. I would never forgive myself for that.”

“I get it. And I know why you did it.” He said softly. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less, he thought to himself. He knew waking up with her absence would haunt him for a long time. 

He hadn’t felt that kind of terror in a long time and it had shaken him.

Iella nodded slowly, though she could tell Din was still out of sorts, that he was still upset. She knew she would have to do a lot of grovelling soon. 

“He ain’t gonna be happy.” 

Iella tensed at the loud voice of the man that cockily stepped into the loading dock. Her eyes locked onto the two male figures that strolled into the space, their arrival ending the moment between the couple. 

She recognized them immediately and tightened her grip on the rifle, aiming it at the taller of the men that approached their ship.

“No one else has any leads. Maybe he’ll take it easy on us.” The other man shrugged, causing his partner to scoff.

“When has Voros ever taken it easy on anyone? If we don’t come back with his bitch, it’s the end of us. You saw what he did to the team after Tatooine.”

Din’s breath hitched in his throat at their words. They were after his wife. They were following their tracks. Blind rage overtook him and he had to force himself to stay still and not take out the men that second.

“We’ll find her. She can’t be that smart, she ain’t got no brain left after what they did to her.”

Iella grit her teeth, taking a pause to inhale a deep breath and pulled the tigger swiftly, barely taking another second to blink as she aimed at the other man who was too stunned at the sudden assassination of his partner to move, and within a second he was also turned to dust. 

“Let’s go.” Iella said, her voice a strange and unsettling monotonous tone Din hated to hear. 

He blindly followed her into the hangar, his head turning every which way to make sure no bystanders were around to witness the brutal murder that just occurred.

“So, what’s next?” 

Iella didn’t answer, her gaze was locked onto the ship in front of them. Din followed her gaze, his brows furrowing at the sight of the unimposing cargo ship in front of them.

“El?” He prompted gently, finally breaking her from her thoughts and she turned to face him. He pretended to ignore the haunted look in her eyes. “What’s the plan?”

“We fly to Nevarro, get Cara and then… make our way to Voros.”

“You remember where the base is?”

She nodded slowly, her eyes averting from his. With a deep breath, she began to make her way towards the ship and Din’s eyes widened, fear striking him again, a feeling he was all too familiar with just from that morning.

He reached out, latching onto her hand.

She looked back and she didn’t even need to see his face to know how panicked he was.

“We need the ship to land near the base. They’ll blow the crest out of the sky if it gets too close. We need to be discreet.” She explained and he hated that it made sense, that he was being forced to stray from her side.

“I’ll follow you to Nevarro and then we take this ship to the base, ok?” She proposed, her eyes locked onto his rigid form until he finally slowly nodded in agreement.

“Ok.” He choked out, slowly and reluctantly letting her hand fall from his. “I’ll meet you there.”

Iella nodded, her face suddenly softening as she looked down at the child whose eyes hadn’t left her since the moment they’d found her.

“I’ll see you soon, little one.” She cooed to him softly, leaning down to squeeze his small cheeks lightly, a smile growing on her face as he let out an adorable squeal of delight. 

She looked up at Din, her face growing more serious, and with a final nod in assurance, she moved to make her way to the ship. 

Din’s hand suddenly shot out again, grabbing hers to stop her. 

She looked back at him in surprise, her face creasing with confusion. 

“Din…”

“You’re going to Nevarro first.” 

Her face fell, realizing just how much she had broken his trust. She nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. 

“I promise.” She told him honestly. She stepped towards him and leaned up on the tips of her toes, pressing a light kiss to the side of his helmet. “I’ll see you soon.”

He nodded and felt himself blush as he noticed hers that grew at the sound of his shuddering breath at her kiss. It didn’t matter if it had met his skin or not. Her closeness was enough to leave him breathless. 

“I’ll see you soon.” He repeated. 

They finally parted and she lowered the ramp of the ship, beginning to make her way up.

“El.” He called out to her and she turned around. “You can still-”

“I remember how to fly.” She told him with a smirk and his shoulders sagged, his helmet bowing slightly. 

“Right.” He muttered, realizing there was nothing else he could say to convince her to come with him on the crest. She had a solid plan and he couldn’t refuse it, no matter how much he wanted to be selfish and drag her along with him.

Iella smiled lightly, making his inside twist pleasurably, and she continued to make her way onto the ship. Din stayed in his spot, his eyes locked onto her as long as he could. He didn’t begin to make his way back to the crest until the ramp was closed.

~~~

The trip to Nevarro was short, a relief to both of them. 

Iella was sure he’d been speeding the entire way there because he was outside the ship, arms crossed, his foot tapping impatiently as he watched her land beside the crest. And she was the one who’d gotten the head start.

She smiled and shook her head to herself. She couldn’t deny the butterflies that erupted at his inability to hide his protectiveness around her.

He was waiting by the ship the second the ramp had lowered and his hand on the small of her back as they made their way through the streets of Nevarro never strayed. 

The trek had been agonizing. After what he’d endured that morning, he didn’t want her barely five feet from him. He was taking every opportunity he could get now to be close to her. 

They stopped as they got to a catina that was bustling with people and Din shrugged at Iella’s questioning gaze. It was their best guess as to where they would find the shocktrooper.

As soon as they stepped into the place, Din’s arm snaked around her waist, his hand now at her hip as he held her to his side, unwilling to let her stray too far in the seedy joint. 

It wasn’t hard to spot the ex-Rebellion soldier. She posed an intimidating figure and it was easy to spot the break in the crowd where she sat, warding off any stragglers from getting too close with a harsh gaze. But she perked up, her feet dropping from the table they were perched on as she saw her favourite couple approaching.

“Well, what do I owe the pleasure to the mister and missus?” She teased. “You wanna drink?”

“No, we’re here for business.” Din said quickly, stopping her from flogging down the bartender. Cara’s smile fell slowly and she straightened in her seat, her eyes flickering back and forth to each of them worriedly, sensing the tension between them.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re going after Voros and we wanted your help.” Iella spoke abruptly. Cara’s mouth dropped open and she stared back at her friend in shock at her words. “I know this is a lot to ask and it’s not much warning, but-”

“I’m in.” Cara interrupted and this time, it was Iella’s turn to stare at her in shock.

“W-what- are you sure?” 

“A chance to take down another Imperial bastard? Hell yeah, I’m in.” 

Din and Iella looked at each other, as if not believing that it had been as easy as it was to recruit their new member. 

“You know this is gonna be dangerous.” Din explained slowly and Cara laughed with a shake of her head.

“When is it not?” She got up from her seat, a look of excitement on her face as she straightened her shoulders. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

~~

The stolen cargo ship was in hyperspace as they all sat in the cockpit in silence, watching the colours blur past them mindlessly. 

The silence was stifling. 

Cara looked back and forth between the couple, wondering what it was that had them so on edge. Sure, going after the evil man that had held Iella hostage for a year would cause tension, but there was something more. 

They barely even looked at each other and the shocktrooper found it extremely troubling.

“So are we going in guns blazing or are we going for the more stealthy route?” She asked, finally breaking the silence.

“We could use deception. Iella, you could pretend you brought me and Cara in as prisoners.” Din offered and Cara winced.

“Yeah, cause that worked out so well for us last time.” She mused sarcastically, thinking back to the shit show that happened on Nevarro. 

“They knew I was on Tatooine. They’re tracking me so we have to assume they know I’m with you. They’ll know I would never betray you.” Iella spoke up timidly and Din tried his hardest to keep his body from reacting to her words. 

Everytime her manipulated self with no memory of him spoke of how much she cared for him left him in a tizzy.

“So… guns blazing, then?” Cara asked.

“I think that’s our only option. They won’t be expecting us so at least we’ll have the element of surprise.” 

“Sounds good.” Cara smiled to her and made her way out of the cockpit, leaving the couple alone, left in a silence that was yet again becoming filled with tension.

Iella’s head lowered, avoiding Din’s gaze that she knew was on her. She still felt horrible about that morning and she didn’t know how to address it, or whether or not he was still mad at her. She didn’t know how to approach him.

They could hear Cara in the hull, scanning over her choice of weapons and occasionally scolding the child who got too close to the blasters for comfort.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Din asked, suddenly breaking the tense silence between them.

“Yes.” She spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t keep going on like this, wondering when he’ll take me from you. I have to make a move before he does.”

Din nodded. He knew they needed to do this. Hearing those men talk about how violent Voros was in his quest to get Iella back lit an already flaming fire inside him until it was unbearable. 

The rage inside him would not be sated until the man was dead. And he knew his panicked wife would not rest until the man that caused her so much harm was dead and he would be damned if he didn’t help give that to her.

“You know this is gonna be dicey. We have half a plan, we don’t know for sure how many of those assholes are gonna be on that base.”

“I know.” 

“And we don’t even know if Voros is gonna be there.”

“Din, you’re not gonna change my mind.” 

“I know… I know.” He whispered, sounding almost regretful, like he wished more than anything that he could, that he could stop her from doing this. But he couldn’t and he knew that. 

He reached out blindly, his hand finding hers, intertwining their fingers together as he held on tightly. Iella let out a shaking breath and looked down at their hands. She held onto him tightly, feeling more grounded by his touch than ever before.

She knew the danger coming but the only thing that kept her heart from imploding with nerves, the only thing that kept her from spiralling - as always - was him. 

She needed to go through with this, not only for herself, but for him, for the child. 

All too soon, the navigator beeped, signalling their arrival. Din tensed, dropping them out of hyperspace with a shaking hand. He didn’t want to admit just how terrified he was, how much he was dreading what was happening next.

As a Mandalorian, he wasn’t one to ever back away from a fight, but this one, this was one he had been willing to avoid for the rest of his life.

“You ready?” Iella asked as they descended into the atmosphere. Din nodded and he looked over his shoulder, his eyes finding hers intently.

“Are you?”

Iella hesitated before answering, her eyes looking out the window and her heart suddenly seized as she saw the large building in front of them, the building that housed all of her trauma and deepest fears.

Just the mere sight of it was enough to make her regret every step that brought her there. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” She breathed out after a silence that was too long for her words to convince him. 

“Team 16 prepare to land.” The voice over the comms spoke, causing the both of them to stiffen in their spots. 

It was a relief that the first phase of their plan had been a success, but they were far from the clear. What was coming next that would determine the rest of their lives.

Din landed the ship in front of the base and he breathed a long and shaking breath before turning to face her.

“We can turn back now, no questions asked.” 

Iella smiled a weak and sad smile, squeezing his hand in hers. 

“You know we can’t.” 

“I know, just ...wishful thinking.” He muttered with a shrug and she could tell by the tone of his voice how scared he was for what came next.

Iella leaned forward, her arm winding around the back of his neck. “We’ll be ok.”

“I know we will.” 

We have to be, he thought to himself. There was no other way he would survive if they weren’t, if she wasn’t ok at the end of the day. He could not go through that again, he couldn’t lose her again or he would surely lose himself this time around.

Once was already too much for him to handle.

He leaned forward, letting his armour covered forehead rest against hers. 

Iella let her eyes fall closed, reveling in his closeness, in his body against hers, his warmth against her cold and scared body. It was all she needed.

“I really am sorry for this morning. I should never have just left like that. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m so sorry I did.” She spoke, her voice becoming more frantic with each word as she began to ramble. Din shook his head, a pang in his chest as he saw her watering eyes.

“Don’t, don’t. It’s ok, I know why you did it.” He whispered. He was still feeling slightly traumatized by what he’d been through that morning, but after hearing her explain, he couldn’t exactly fault her. 

He understood why she did what she did and he just hoped to the maker he would never have to wake up without her again.

Loud, rushing footsteps came their way and Cara breezed into the room with the child in her arms, her chest heaving. She straightened when she saw the couple locked in each other’s embrace and she subtly averted her gaze.

“Sorry,” She muttered. “But we got company coming.”

“How many?” Din asked sternly, standing from his seat with his fists clenched tightly.

“Just one.” 

Iella let out a long breath, slowly getting to her feet. There was no turning back now, she had no choice but to get her head into the game, to prepare for bloodshed. 

“Let’s go.” She mumbled and pushed past Din and Cara to make her way out of the cockpit. She pulled the deadly knife off her belt and pressed her back against the wall next to the ramp, motioning for Din and Cara to hide.

Cara acted immediately, grabbing onto the stubborn Mandalorian that immediately moved to be next to his wife, but she pulled him back to hide with her. 

He grit his teeth, his heart hammering within his chest as the mechanics of the ship began to whir as the ramp slowly lowered.

“Hey, Reyon, you find that purple haired bitch or-” The man that cockily strolled into the ship stopped abruptly, his eyes growing wide with fear as he spotted her. 

The deadly look in her eyes sent a chill down his spine and before he could even begin to beg for his life, her knife swiped outwards, slicing his throat easily. She moved past her unease quickly, not allowing herself to feel any remorse for the life she had just taken.

He deserved it, she knew he did. That was all she had to remember. 

Cara and Din stepped out from the shadows, both their gazes locked onto the man that had fallen lip to the floor of the ship, the puddle of blood around him growing larger each second. Din swallowed thickly, forcing himself to look away from the sight.

The terror that had coursed through him at the sight of his wife killing that man, the sight that was all too familiar to the one he’d seen when he’d first found her again, discovering her new identity, was enough to shake him.

But he wouldn’t let it.

“Let’s move.” Cara spoke up, knowing she needed to be the one to break the ice from the tension that was building as they stared at the body on the floor. 

Iella nodded stiffly, grabbing the blaster the shocktrooper held out to her, along with strapping the many knives she had to her belt. 

Din peered into the cockpit, making sure the child was safe in his cradle where he would remain during the mission, away from any danger. He closed the doors to the cockpit, sealing him in.

“Kill anyone you come across. These people can’t be spared.” Iella told them and the cold, emotionless tone in her voice made both Din and Cara wince. They shared a quick look of concern before shaking themselves of their reservations and followed her out the ship.

They moved swiftly, like a team that had been working together for years, able to communicate without words. They sprinted towards the base, Din and Cara quickly taking out the two guards that were stationed at the door. 

Iella threw a knife from her belt at a passing man making his way towards his ship. They couldn’t let anyone go. It didn’t matter what their job was, she knew they were all guilty.

They slowed their pace as they got to the door and Din let out a muttered curse as they found a keypad at the door, an encrypted code keeping them from entering. 

“Now what?”

Iella stepped forward, a look of derision in her eyes that was all too familiar to Din, one he hated to see. With a trembling hand, she slowly typed in the code that lingered in her mind. She clenched her jaw as the door breezed open, feelling both relieved and disheartened as she realized the code had worked.

Her knowledge from Voros had worked and it left her stomach turning.

Just keep moving, you’ll get yours soon enough, she reminded herself. 

Din sighed heavily, hating the feeling of dread that encompassed him as she opened the door. He knew it was probably for the better that she had remembered the code, that it made their life and their mission easier, but the implications of Voros’ impact on her still lingering in her mind was a decimating blow to both of them. 

He felt a nudge to his side and he looked up at Cara who was looking back at him impatiently. She motioned towards Iella with wide eyes, silently telling him now wasn’t the time to dwell on that detail. They had much bigger things to worry about.

The trio moved efficiently, their weapons firing into each room they passed, leaving no witnesses or whistleblowers in their wake. Their presence was still unknown. They paused as they came to the end of a hallway and a number of paths stood ahead of them.

“Which way?”

Iella barely heard the question, there was a faint ringing in her ears as her anxiety began to rise the longer she was in the building. Her memory of the base came back full force.

The sight of the familiar long hallways, the dark, desolate rooms, the people they took out, they were all reminders of her time here, a reminder of each and every horrible, torturous thing that had been inflicted upon her.

“El?” Din called out, his voice sounding as if he were underwater, barely breaking through to her wounded mind. “Hey,” He stood in front of her, his hand reaching out to hold hers tightly. “You with me?”

She looked up at him, shaking herself from the unbridled trauma that was coursing through her veins and she nodded.

“Go left. His office isn’t far.” She finally spoke. 

Din looked at her for a moment longer, trying to gauge whether or not she was truly able to go further, to push past the bubbling emotions she was feeling to keep a clear head. He wasn’t able to tell before she had pushed past him and began walking down the long hallway.

He sighed heavily and quickly moved to follow her, not willing to let themselves be even a few feet apart.

They weren’t walking long when they suddenly heard the sound of many footsteps from around the corner, signalling a group coming their way, one bigger than they were equipped to deal with without blowing their cover.

“Come on!” Cara hissed and pushed the couple into the nearest room, closing the door behind them. 

Iella felt her entire body stiffen, her eyes going wide with horror. She knew this room. 

She turned on her heel and could feel her legs tremble, barely able to keep herself standing as she looked at the enormous and imposing machine that stood in the middle of the room. 

She walked towards it slowly, her chest heaving at the mere sight of it, of the memories it forced into her mind, all of her screaming and writhing in agony.

Sensing her move from his side, Din turned on his heel, immediately stepping forward to follow her. 

“Hey, what-” He stopped abruptly, his gaze moving to what she was looking at with such stricken eyes. His mouth parted, but no words escaped him. 

He stayed rooted to his spot, his eyes travelling over every inch of the large, deadly looking machine.

“Holy shit.” Cara muttered, her eyes going wide at the sight of it. “What is this thing?”

“This is what… changed me.” Iella explained with a weak voice. Even with her vague words, Din was able to put the pieces together and he felt his chest tighten as dread settled within him. 

She had mentioned moments of her strapped to a machine, the one that had taken her memories away and for a long time, Din only had his imagination to supply the thoughts that came with her explanation.

But now that he saw it for himself, he saw just what had caused her so much pain and trauma, it was like a knife to the chest. 

He wanted to tear the machine apart with his bare hands. His entire body stiffened, his hands clenching into fists and Iella reached out immediately, taking his hand in hers to stop him from what she knew he wanted to do.

Cara, who had moved to press her ear to the door, turned towards the couple again, a regretful expression on her face as she knew what they were going through. She knew, despite whatever happened after today, that they’d be needing a lot of healing.

“Group’s passed, but it sounds like there’s more coming. We should hide out here for a few more minutes until they pass.” She whispered to them. 

In the span of a second, Iella’s expression changed, the look of horror in her eyes turning deadly as the sick feeling inside her twisted into pure rage. She moved past Din who scrambled to grab onto her arm to stop her, but she pushed him away, striding towards the door purposefully.

Cara’s face twisted with disbelief, she’d never seen the quiet woman she knew look so determined before and she was left to stumble aside in shock as Iella pushed past her and swung the door open.

She stepped out into the hallway, ignoring the hushed and frantic whispers of Din behind her that begged her to get back in the room. The soldiers that were passing the room turned on their heels at the sound of the door opening behind them and they all faltered, their weapons falling from their raised positions slightly at the sight of her.

The famed assassin was back and they all took a moment to stare at their boss’ biggest project in shock. 

Before any of the soldiers could reign in their surprise, Iella was already moving, pulling knives from her belt and tossing them with deadly accuracy. 

It wasn’t until three of the soldiers in front of the crowd fell to the ground with knives in their throats that the rest finally moved into action, pointing their weapons at her.

Iella let out a yelp as she was thrown to the side, Din’s arms wrapped around her tightly, spinning them around so his armoured back took the brunt of the shots that fired at them. Her chest heaved with deep breaths, finally brought out of her shocked state to realize just what she had done, realizing the danger they were now in because of her and her recklessness.

Din spun on his heel, firing his blaster at the crowd rapidly, keeping his body in front of hers to protect her from the shots that came their way. He and Cara fired at the dwindling crowd of shoulders and he noticed an occasional knife thrown over his shoulder, Iella taking down soldier after soldier from behind him.

The chaos from the fight alerted the others on the base, having heard the sounds of blaster fire and screams of pain, and soon, more soldiers were racing towards them. 

Iella looked behind her, seeing more coming their way. She reached for her weapons, a knife held in each of her hands as she ran forward. She barely heard Din yell for her as she jumped on the back of the first man coming towards her, plunging her knife into his neck.

He had barely fallen to the ground before she was moving to the next man, slicing wildly as she moved swiftly through the crowd. Soldiers fell at her hand, wounds dropping them in the neck, stomach and thighs as she passed them like an invisible assassin.

The fight was deadly and she could feel the beginnings of a red film overtaking her eyes, that numbness that came with her deadly kills washing over her as her anger took over every one of her instincts.

She mowed through the crowd easily, barely acknowledging her growing tiredness. She didn’t feel it. The only thing she felt was vengeance coursing through her veins like blood.

Iella grunted as arms suddenly wrapped around her, pinning her arms to her sides. 

“We’ve been waiting for you.” The man who held her crooned in her ear, making her cringe and try to squirm away from him, but to no avail. 

Din, who was still firing off rapid shots and punching and kicking any soldier who got too close, turned on his heel, checking on Iella yet again and his stomach dropped, rage overtaking him as he saw her trapped in the grip of a man twice her size.

The man moved to place his knife against her throat and before the blade could even touch her skin, Din was on him like a wild animal, forcing him away from Iella and throwing him to the floor. Din plunged his own blade into the man’s chest, not even watching the satisfied view of him sputtering on his own blood as the life drained from him.

He moved to check on Iella, but she was no longer by his side. He stood straight, his head on a swivel as he searched for her through the chaos. 

He perked up, fear growing yet again as he saw her racing forward. 

The only thing on her mind was Voros, of finally ending him. The need for revenge clouded her judgement so thoroughly, she didn’t even wait for Din or Cara to follow as backup.

“Iella!” Din screamed for her and sprinted towards her, but she didn’t stop. 

She kicked open the door at the end of the hallway, storming inside and firing off shots as she did. 

Din was only steps away from the door when it suddenly slammed shut in his face and he crashed into it, shaking the handle frantically. It didn’t open and he could feel himself beginning to lose his cool.

“El?! Iella?!” He yelled frantically from the other side of the door.

Inside the room, Iella startled at the sound of the door slamming closed and she turned, glaring at the guards who had closed and locked it behind her, who kept Din from her. 

She could hear him pounding on the door, screaming for her, the terror in his voice making her heart flip with agony. He sounded so scared and it made her want to scream. 

She’d heard that tone from him all too often and she hated it.

“Hello, Darling.”

Her body tensed and she turned slowly, her chest rising and falling with panicked breaths as her eyes met the man she hated more than anything in the galaxy.

Voros smiled widely at her, the amusement in his eyes clear, like he was delighted by her presence. 

“I knew you’d come back to me.” 

~~

Tags:  @cosmo-bear @lavenderl3mons @starfirette @the-feckless-wonder @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @lil-baby27 @promiscuoussatan @assassinsasha23 @killtherandomness @dartheldur @remmyswritings @boomtownboy@saramelcky @frietiemeloen @thefact0rygirl @fantasyfan4ever @thirstyb-ches @lilliannaansalla​ @wantingtobekorra​

Let me know if you would like to be added!

[jensengirl83]

Regret and Redemption Chapter 6

Dean x reader

Mechanic!Dean AU

Word Count-2476

Summary- Reader has left Dean and is trying to move on with her life. Can Dean prove himself and convince her to come back home?

Warnings-Angst, Heartbreak, Language

A/N- Song in this chapter is Careless Whisper by Seether. Lyrics will be in italics. Thank you to my beta @emoryhemsworth​​ and all my girls and guy for the encouragement to keep going with this series. I love you all!

Amazing series cover and text dividers courtesy of @talesmaniac89​ 

“Hey baby,” Dean answered the phone.

“Don’t call me that Dean, this isn’t a social call,” Y/N said with her voice monotone and void of any feeling.

“I’m sorry Y/N. What can I do for you then?” Dean asked as his heart sank.

“I don’t need you to do anything for me, Dean. I called to tell you something,” she said.

“What is it Y/N?” Dean asked as he held his breath.

“I want a divorce, Dean.” Y/N said with no emotion detectable in her voice.

“No! Baby please, don’t do this. I need you,” Dean said pleading with his wife.

“Dean, you obviously didn’t need me enough to be able to keep it in your pants. I can’t do it anymore. The longer we stay just separated, the more hope it will give you that we can fix this, and we can’t. I’m sorry Dean, but I filed this morning. You should have the papers soon. Goodbye Dean,” Y/N said as she hung up the phone.

Y/N sat with her head in her hands as the tears for the marriage she had lost spilled down her cheeks. Having seen him with Stacy was the proverbial straw that had finally broken her. Her heart was aching at the loss of the only man she had ever loved but she couldn’t ever trust him again. He had done too many things to forgive at that point. No matter how much she still loved her husband, she had to let him go. It was time for her to move on and leave him where he belonged, in her past.

Dean sat staring at his phone for a long time. Her words had destroyed him. He was losing his wife and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. The fact that his marriage was over had begun to sink in and he had no one to blame but himself. He felt that his life was all but over now; the love of his life would never come back home to him. Dean threw his phone across the room with a guttural scream, the pain consuming him whole. He’d lost the only person to ever break down the walls he had built, the woman who he would forever love and never have again.  

The weeks that followed weren’t kind to Dean. He had received the divorce papers and that had ruined him. She had asked for nothing: not the house, her part of the garages, not a thing. She stated that all she wanted was the money she’d made from her books and he could have the rest. She said that she didn’t want anything that had been a part of their time together. Dean had looked at the divorce papers at least a hundred times and it had hurt him no less than the first time he had read them. She was done with their marriage and with him.

Dean became a recluse, going to work and locking himself in his office and then back home. He quit talking to his family and friends, never leaving his house except when he had to. Dean didn’t even go to work if he didn’t have to. The will it took not to cry the whole time he was there started to fade. The memory of her was everywhere at work and he couldn’t stand it. If it wasn’t for the employees he had, Dean would lock the doors and never return. He knew the next months would not be any easier. The rest of his miserable life would be a living hell as long as he didn’t have Y/N.

The weeks following her decision to file for divorce were a little easier for Y/N, but not by much. She hid away in her apartment, continuing to work on her novel. Her heart was broken at the end of her marriage, but she decided to move on and try to live her life the best she could. She hadn’t gotten to the living part yet, but she was trying to get there. She had not heard from Dean since the day she had told him she wanted a divorce. She hoped that he had finally gotten the point and was moving on. She secretly hated the thought of him moving on; the idea broke her heart in fact, but she knew she couldn’t forgive him for his betrayal. That one thing is what had ended their marriage, her lack of being able to forgive and trust him again.

Y/N sat in her guest room that she had made an office staring at her computer screen. Some days were easier than others when it came to writing her book, but today was not one of the easier ones. Dean had been on her mind since she woke up that morning and it pissed her off to no end. Here she was, in her own apartment trying to move on, and he still had a hold on her. That thought made her think to call her uncle. She hadn’t spoken to him about the divorce proceedings since she filed.

“Turner Law offices, how may I help you?” Diane answered the phone.

“It’s Y/N. How are you Diane?” she asked her uncle’s secretary. She’d worked there since Y/N was a child.

“Y/N! I’m good, sweetheart. How are you holding up?” she asked her with sincerity.

“I’m hanging in there. Is Uncle Johnnie busy?” Y/N asked.

“He’s on the phone, but I’ll tell him you are on the line. Hold on just a minute sweetie,” Diane said as she put her on hold. Y/N was glad that her uncle was handling her divorce. It made it easier that family was taking care of it instead of a stranger who could give a damn.

“Y/N! How’s my favorite niece?” her uncle asked with a laugh.

“Sure, Uncle Johnnie! You do remember I’m just one out of how many? I bet you say that to all of us,” Y/N said with a laugh.

“I do but that’s because you’re all my favorites!” he said laughing at her.

“That’s a lot more accurate,” she laughed. “I called to ask how everything is going with my divorce.”

“Well Y/N, Dean hasn’t signed the papers yet. I contacted his lawyer to tell them that he needed to get them signed,” her uncle said with a sigh.

“I should’ve known. Thanks, Uncle Johnnie. I’ll call Sam and see what he can do to get Dean to sign them and get this over with,” Y/N said as she ran her hand down her face. Of course, he hadn’t signed them yet.

“You don’t need to call his brother Y/N. I know you want to cut ties and that will just make it harder honey,” Johnnie said softly.

“It’s ok, I actually like Sam,” Y/N chuckled. “I really don’t mind talking to him.”

“That’s up to you sweetie. Hopefully, that little shit will sign the damn papers soon,” he said with a groan.

“Uncle Johnnie…” Y/N groaned.

“I’m sorry honey. He’s lucky I haven’t sent one of your cousins on his ass,” Johnnie said with a laugh, but Y/N knew he wasn’t joking.

“It’s fine, honestly! I’m a big girl and I can handle this without bloodshed,” she laughed.

“Ok sweetheart. I love you and I’ll let you know as soon as he signs, ok?” He said with a smile.

“I love you too Uncle Johnnie! Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome darlin’. Bye Y/N,” he said as he hung up the phone.

Darlin’. That name had brought tears to her eyes. Dean had called her that many times in the years they had been together. There were so many things that she was going to have to move past now that he wasn’t a part of her life anymore. She shook the thoughts from her mind as she went back to her laptop. She opened up her Spotify playlist and hit shuffle. Music had always helped her to focus. The song that started to play had her staring at the screen with tears in her eyes.

I feel so unsure

As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

As the music dies

Something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all of the sad goodbyes

This song had always been one of her favorites but now it hit home. The lyrics made her chest feel tight, and her breath came in pants as she thought of her soon to be ex-husband.

 I'm never going to dance again

These guilty feet have got no rhythm

Though it's easy to pretend

I know you're not a fool

I should have known better than to cheat a friend

A wasted chance that I've been given

So I'm never going to dance again

The way I danced with you

The tears were now staining her cheeks as her mind replayed that day that she had seen the hickey on Dean’s neck, the mark that had concreted her fears and worst nightmare, the proof that the man she loved had betrayed her.

Tonight, the music seems so loud

I wish that we could lose this crowd

Maybe it's better this way

We've hurt each other with the things we want to say

We could have been so good together

We could have lived this dance forever

Now who's going to dance with me

Y/N laid her head down on her desk and let out the tears, grief, and pain that had been bottled up for the last few months. She finally let herself grieve for the marriage she still wanted, the man she still loved. That was what hurt the most: she still wanted him, but she knew that it wasn’t a possibility. He had hurt her beyond repair this time. No matter how much she still loved him, she would never be able to move past his betrayal.

Dean sat on his couch where he spent most of his time now. He had even been sleeping downstairs since Y/N had told him she wanted a divorce. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in their room without her anymore, the memories of the love they had shared in that room was too much for him. Dean looked a mess, not having shaved in weeks. He only showered because he had to at this point. His evenings had consisted of staring at the walls and looking through old photos of him and Y/N. He knew that wouldn’t help him move on, but that was the point, he didn’t want to. He wanted his wife back in his arms and in their home.

Dean stared at their wedding photo for what seemed like hours. The way Y/N was smiling took his breath away. He had always thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but that day she had been breathtakingly beautiful. Her Y/H/C hair was swept up with just a few pieces down to frame her face. Her Y/E/C shined as he had never seen them before. She had been truly happy that day, and so had he. The two of them had been so excited to start their journey together as husband and wife. Dean felt the tears that had escaped roll down his cheeks as he thought of what he had ruined. A knock at the door had him wiping away the tears as he made his way to see who the hell was bothering him.

“You look like shit, dude!” Sam said as Dean opened the door.

“Happy to see you too Sammy,” Dean said as he rolled his eyes.

“What the hell have you been doing man? I haven’t seen or heard from you in weeks!” Sam exclaimed as Dean turned his back on him and walked back to the couch.

“Oh, you know, having the time of my fucking life Sammy! What do you think I have been doing?! I’m missing my wife and grieving my failed fucking marriage!” Dean yelled as he threw his hands in the air.

“I get it dude, but don’t yell at me! I didn’t tell you to go screw those whores!” Sam yelled and regretted it instantly. “I’m sorry Dean, I really am, but don’t take it out on me man.”

“Fuck you, Sam! You don’t think I regret what I did?! I have never regretted something more in my life!” Dean growled as he collapsed back to the couch.

Sam didn’t say a word as he sat down beside his brother. He regretted what he had said, but the stress of what he had dealt with that day had gotten the best of him. He laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder and let him cry it out, just being there for his brother until he was ready to speak.

“I’m sorry Sammy. I just don’t know how much more I can take, man. I want Y/N to come home and I know that she never will,” Dean said with a sigh.

“It’s ok man, I get it. I’m really sorry you’re going through this,” Sam said as he patted Dean on the back.

“What brings you over here Sammy? You need something?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, Y/N’s uncle called me today. He wants the divorce papers back and signed,” he said as he watched his brother.

“I don’t want to sign them, Sam. That means it’s really over,” Dean whispered as he glanced at the divorce papers sitting on his coffee table.

“This is going to sound rude, but it’s over whether you sign the papers or not Dean,” Sam said as gently as he could, not wanting to rub salt in the open wound. “Besides, you have a more important problem you need to deal with now. That’s the main reason I came over here today.”

“What the hell’s going on now?! I have enough to deal with Sammy!” Dean said exasperated.

“Well, just sign the divorce papers and get it over with. You’ll be going to court over something else soon,” Sam said with dread. He didn’t want to have to tell Dean, but he had no other choice.

“What are you talking about Sam? Just spit it out already,” Dean said as he prepared himself for whatever shit show was coming now.

“Stacy’s filed a lawsuit against you for sexual harassment Dean,” Sam said. “She’s also suing for wrongful termination. This could cost you a lot of money.”

“That’s fucking great!” Dean yelled sarcastically. If he had even a shred of a chance to convince Y/N to come home, it would be gone as soon as she heard about this.

[iheartginnyandgeorgia]

Inclusivity within “Ginny and Georgia” Part 2 of 3

Be wary of potential spoilers!

Also, trigger warning with self-harm and ED

Mental health was not addressed into mainstream media until recently and when it was finally addressed we got the toxic trash that 13 Reasons Why.

The different between my post and Ginny and Georgia is that my post contains a trigger warning. While there is only one or two scenes from the show that I can think of where Ginny deliberately self harms with a lighter. Main stream media should talk about mental health and topics such as self-harm, but I think the show could benefit from trigger-warnings as they play an important role with mental health and are used in order to not cause anyone unnecessary anxiety or rehashing of their trauma. 

Besides that really small but really big detail, I feel the show dealt with mental health better than any other show I’ve seen in awhile, especially when it comes to self-harm, depression, eating disorders, along with the stress and trauma of your home life via your parents divorcing. 

A secondary character that doesn’t get as big of a plot as others, though deserves more screen time in season 2, Abby, one of the girls a part of MANG. Every character in this show has their own nuances, Abby especially with her divorced parents and eating disorder. In episode 3, Next Level Rich People Sh*t, we see the first instances of Abby’s life at home with her divorcing parents, though viewers don’t officially know that yet, and her body dysmorphia/eating disorder. She’s laying on her bed texting MANG, then she gets up and in the background you can hear two adults fighting, she stares in the mirror and starts pulling at the skin on her thighs, she goes into her drawer and low and behold she pulls out a roll of duct tape to tape up her skin before putting her jeans on and heading out to the Sophomore Sleepover. Flash forward to the event and Max gives her shit for wearing jeans because it’ll ruin the Instagram picture, meanwhile she’s not even aware of the effect her words have on her friend. Then, in the same episode when Abby and her friends are off in a classroom getting wasted, Brody dares her to swap clothes with someone and she panics. 

*Don’t read further because I will be discussing self-harm*

Ginny has moved around almost the amount times for the years she has been alive. Her mom going through countless relationships in order to sustain her family and do what is best for her kids. Not to mention, Zion, Ginny’s dad is a travel writer and photographer, and so while he’s a good dad he’s not really in the picture, on top of racial discrimination. One can say she doesn’t have the best mental health due to all of this, so her way of coping is through burning herself. The first time viewers see this is in episode 5, Boo Bitch, when at the Halloween party Bracia makes a comment without really saying it about Ginny essentially not being “black enough.” Which we already know from throughout the season is a big struggle for her. Bracia, while not knowing the affect of her words, causes Ginny to be triggered so she goes to the bathroom to cry. When in there she sees a comment about her on Hunter’s YouTube video saying she was “This is the whitest black girl I’ve ever seen, she looks like she’s at a Jonas Brothers concert.” These two situations back to back trigger her anxiety and so she burns her wrist on a candle to calm down. Later in the season Marcus, the “bad boy” aka simply misunderstood teenager with depression, catches Ginny with a lighter about to burn herself. They later address it in episode 9, Feelings Are Hard, where we find out that she basically in one way or another says she has mental health issues and gets overwhelmed and has no way of healthily dealing with it. Everything simply feels like too much, and once she burns herself it’s like a release. 

We also find out in this same episode and same conversation why Marcus struggles with depression. Throughout the entire season everyone pins him as the angsty bad boy who’s also a player, when in actuality he is just coping with the loss of his friend who died the year prior. He gives Ginny and the viewers a run down of what it’s like to grieve for someone and how many people don’t realize others are struggling until it’s too late.

I think Marcus says it perfectly, “Can’t you see I need help?” I think everyone in one way or another needs help and someone to understand and listen, and he did exactly that for Ginny. When her mom was too busy killing one of her husbands and her dad too busy traveling, he leant her the empathy no one else had. Abby also brings this same concept up to when her friends abandon her while she’s struggling with her parents divorce. 

While Ginny and Georgia can be over the top sometimes and oversaturate’s the show with one too many cliches, it touches on mental health in a way that is almost universally relatable for everyone. 

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 11: Vows

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 11. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 10 'Ruin'. During the months after his son's disappearance, Stoick has trouble coping and finds himself lost in memories.

Warning: /

Rating: Teen and up

Characters: Stoick, Gobber, Valka, Hiccup, Fishlegs, Dagur, Astrid, Heather, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut

Pairing: Past-Hiccstrid

Words: 4 006

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Falling Through Ice”

Whumpee: Hiccup, Stoick, Gobber, Valka

Author’s Notes: Okay, so believe it or not, I did finish this one waaay back in December. But I didn't want to post it until I finished Day 12, which then turned out to be so long I needed to divide it into two parts. Day 12 part 2 still isn't finished yet, but after much too long, I did finally have the energy to get through proofreading this one.

So there you have it, here's Day 11 at long last!

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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It’s through a call in the late morning that Stoick received the news. He was sleeping in for once, something he rarely does as he enjoys waking up early in the morning to get the most work out of a day.

That day, he slept in and it was the ringtone of the smartphone Hiccup made him get that woke him up. He grabbed it and sat up before he answered tiredly.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Haddock, sir?” He recognized the voice as belonging to that of Astrid Hofferson, his son’s girlfriend.

“Yes, lass?” He rubbed in his heavy eyes. How did sleeping in longer make him more than waking up with the sun did?

“We think something’s happened with Hiccup. We think he’s missing.”

It was news Stoick never thought he would ever get to hear and he would’ve thought it a prank, if it wasn’t for the tremble in the girl’s voice. Astrid has always seemed tough to him and a terrible liar, like Hiccup. That was genuine emotion in her tone.

That was how he found out his son was missing.

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In the beginning, there was a fire driving Stoick forwards.

When his son’s friends called to tell him that they hadn’t seen or heard from Hiccup in a worryingly amount of time when he should’ve been taking his dragon home, Stoick was quick to come over.

He met with the five and the dragon, the one Hiccup was supposed to return to the sanctuary he had escaped from just to see his human companion.

He’d gotten their stories in person, spent another couple of hours trying to reach Hiccup, then searched the places he could’ve possibly gone to, even visiting Gobber and calling Valka, neither of which had seen a sign of him either. After a whole night wasted on trying to reach him, Stoick finally went to the police.

The friends had to do their story again, they were taken seriously, Stoick provided with a description and a picture, it was on the news, posters were printed and posted, it was a whole process, but they were fired up and stubborn in bringing him home.

Then days passed with no real news, then weeks, and then months of nothing. Nothing but sick minds who get some sort of kick out prank calling a worried father and grieving friends and girlfriend.

Stoick went out there himself to search for his son. The coffee shop he worked at, his street, the neighboring streets, he searched the entire city for just a single sign of Hiccup. And if he thought the police wasn’t doing enough, he’d hound them into doing more.

In the beginning, there was no short supply of spirit in his desire to find Hiccup, but now it’s been months and he feels like he’s already running on fumes.

He’s not going to stop, he’s never going to stop, but there are days where he can only sit on the couch in a darkened room and nothing more.

It doesn’t help that the holidays are fast approaching and all they do now is add to his sour mood. If Hiccup isn’t found soon, this’ll be his first without his son and that does not sit well with Stoick at all.

But anyway, Gobber is here, too.

“You know, Stoick, you scowl any more, you’re going to scare even me away.” Gobber jokes with him, attempting to lighten the mood with a light joke. The two have been silently and mindlessly watching whatever crosses their way, hoping to chase away any and all thought as they bring them both nothing but pain.

Gobber is heartbroken, too, jokes and faith in their son’s stubbornness used to help him cling to the hope that they’ll see him again.

At first, it was the hope that they’ll see him again soon, nowadays it’s the hope that they’ll see him again someday, whether dead or alive. Because Gobber isn’t a fool, he knows the first few days are very crucial in a missing person’s case, especially the first 24 hours. Isn’t that what those cop shows always claim? Hiccup has already been gone for months.

He wasn’t able to do much in the beginning. When it came to searching for Hiccup out there on the street and surrounding forests, he was only able to come along for so much with a leg and an arm missing. But with jokes, by talking with Stoick, or just keeping him company, he can help the man be less alone in his suffering.

Stoick hasn’t left the house in days, has stopped returning Valka’s call, and Gobber thinks that’s an alarming thing. The last thing his friend needs is to cut himself off from his family and Hiccup’s friends.

Taking his glare off the tv, which he isn’t paying attention to, anyway, Stoick instead scowls at Gobber.

“Do you truly think that I am in the mood for jokes, Gobber?” He asks, not all that happy to deal with Gobber’s attempt at humor, to say the least.

“Only for tasteful ones!” Gobber replies, his cheer still very much intact. Or that’s what he wants Stoick and those friends of Hiccup’s to believe.

Wordlessly, Stoick looks back at the tv. Apparently, they’ve been watching a channel about DIYs, a chair is being constructed in the current program. He hadn’t even noticed before.

Gobber sighs and looks back at the tv, the living room bathing in darkness except for the light from the screen. Once upon a time, he could at least annoy Stoick into interacting with him, now he can’t even accomplish that anymore.

And if he can’t reach Stoick… Well, it does little good for his own mental health.

Though usually a man that likes a clean house, Stoick has really been letting the place go as there are dishes and cans and filth everywhere. Not that Gobber can fault him for that as his own housekeeping isn’t what it used to be, though it’s always been on the messy side.

Stoick hadn’t wanted to see him either, further backing up his worries that his friend is isolating himself from the outside world. It’s only because Gobber insisted by pushing right past him and forced his way into the home that he isn’t alone now.

Gazing at the silent man, he wonders what he’s thinking now.

Stoick is thinking of Hiccup, for sure, he always is these past months. He shuts himself off to avoid the media, to avoid people who will recognize him from the tireless interviews, to avoid being bothered, running into Astrid or any of her and Hiccup’s friends, or coming across any reminders of his son. Gobber guesses those are the reasons that Stoick no longer goes outside and he only wishes the other would let him in.

Gobber’s assumption couldn’t be more right. In his attempt to hide and stop his endless thoughts and worrying, all Stoick does is think and fret and tear himself apart for his failure.

As a father, he’s supposed to protect his child, that has been his duty from the day he and Valka decided to expand their family. He followed through on this while Valka was pregnant with their son, he held him as soon as he could after birth and promised him that he wouldn’t know a single day of strive, and he tried and tried every single day of the boy’s short lived life to make it come true.

Now look where his incompetence has left him, left Hiccup.

And before this, there were at least two more times when he felt, and was, absolutely useless.

The second time was when a dragon attacked his son, scarred his back, and mangled his leg so badly it had to be taken.

The very first, it was during a snowy winter when his son was 12-years-old and that is the particular moment he’s thinking of now.

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“Be careful!” He remembers warning his son that cold afternoon as his friends had come to ask him outside to play, which is slowly devolving into “hanging out” as they age. Not a bad idea, Valka had convinced him and she was still his wife at the time.

Hiccup was a young boy with plenty of friends, he should make use of his childhood while he still can before the inevitable responsibilities of life will whisk him away. He should enjoy himself, that is what Valka said to convince him to let Hiccup outside.

Back then, Oswald, a good friend of Stoick’s, was still alive. Back then, Dagur was still a good boy and Heather was a young girl full of life, who didn’t need to struggle to make ends meet following the loss of her father and her brother’s troubles.

But Stoick knew there was something off about the boy from the beginning. Dagur was too reckless for his tastes, always seeking trouble in some way, never listening to his father. That day, it was Hiccup he dragged down with him.

It was Fishlegs who suddenly stood on his front porch, twiddling his thumbs uncertainly and timidly staring at the ground. Apparently, Astrid had sent him, as Stoick would later find out. She’s always been a smart girl, a girl who doesn’t like to break rules and listens to her parents.

“Um, Mr. Haddock, sir? I think Hiccup’s about to get in a lot of trouble.” For any kid at any age, tattling on your friends never feels good and it doesn’t help that Stoick is so big and scary. The 11-year-old never understood how Hiccup was never scared of him. But Astrid had made him go while she stayed, believing she needed to keep an eye on what she thought was a situation about to get really out of hand.

Tearing their coats off the rack, he and Valka left quickly, the boy guiding them towards the local lake in a forest just outside of town.

They would find that Dagur was the biggest troublemaker in this situation. A much older boy, he’d followed his sister when she left with Astrid.

“Come on, Hiccup! You’re not scared like they are, are you? Get over here!” That was unmistakably young Dagur’s voice that they heard as they approached the lake. Whatever he was hounding their son to do, it couldn’t be anything good.

“Hiccup!” Stoick called out to him the second he spotted him, seeing his small frame on a frozen lake nobody has cleared for use yet and there he was.

Dagurr stood in the middle of it, arms crossed and an impatient look on his face. That is, until he saw the angry and mountainous dad of his target at the banks of the lake together with Hiccup’s mom. And suddenly, he felt like fleeing, having been caught red-handed.

“Mo-Mom? Dad?” Hiccup looked back at his parents, his face and posture betraying that his position isn’t one he put himself in as willingly as it first appeared.

Dagur had been bullying the younger kids, daring them into getting on the ice like he dared to. Kids don’t like to be challenged this way, they don’t like to be made to feel like they can’t do something, like they’re afraid and being afraid makes them a coward. Nobody wants to be seen as anything but brave. But Hiccup, he merely wanted to “prove himself” to end this charade and convince him to get off.

Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Snotlout, Astrid, and Heather, too, looked uncomfortable with the situation. They knew it was bad, even the first three who are troublemakers themselves.

“Hiccup, come on! Come back!” Astrid shouted towards him, but he was too stubborn to leave, still waiting on Dagur to get off the ice first.

He wasn’t ready to give up on him yet, not even with his own well-being on the line. He cared too much about others, he has always cared too much. Three years in the future, it might contribute to Dagur’s future obsession with him. His mother has left him, his father would, too, then, but Hiccup hadn’t.

Looking away from his terrified parents to gaze back at Dagur again, he shuffles ever closer while trembling in fright. He can hear and feel the lake cracking in warning beneath his feet.

“Dagur, I’m-I’m-I’m here-I’m here now, can we-can we go back?” He asked with a tremble and tears of stress in his eyes. He wanted to go back so badly, but he refused to go alone.

“Um-” The older boy’s bravado from before was entirely gone, his gaze moved from Hiccup to his father nervously.

“Yes, you two can! And you better come back quickly! Dagur, your father will hear of this!” Stoick couldn’t hear the ice straining, but that didn’t make him any less urged to get those two boys on solid ground.

“Dagur!” Heather shouts, sniffing.

“Dagur, please, you’re only putting yourself in danger! Come back to shore and everything will be okay.” Valka took a less consequential stance, something Stoick looked at her in disagreement for.

“Oh-okay,” Dagur quietly replied, spooked by Hiccup’s parents, and shuffled his way cautious off the lake.

It was only then, when he saw Dagur safely on the banks, that Hiccup could breathe easy and return, too.

“And now you, my brave boy, come here!” Valka stretched her hands out, causing him to smile.

Stoick didn’t plan on being as encouraging as his wife was being, fuming. Their 12-year-old was recklessly risking his life and for what? If he wants to be a hero, he should do it without endangering himself as well.

“I’m-I’m coming!” Hiccup called back, happy that he no longer needed to be here.

But as his luck would have it, just like he will somehow attract the attention of two obsessed men in a span of only three years, he had to be the one to fall through the ice.

Slowly, he moved closer to his friends and parents, the thin layer of ice under his feet cracking beneath his feather-light weight. No matter how much he moved from the spot, the cracks followed him and they grew bigger and they multiplied quickly. He was so scared, dying to reunite with his parents again. They were right there and yet so far away.

And then it breaks and he sinks into the freezing water below with a shriek that is cut short.

“Hiccup!” Everyone shouted as they watched him disappear.

Stoick will remember this incident as one of the worst moments in his entire life. Nothing in any of his 45 years of life will ever come close, not until his son loses his leg and fights for his life in the hospital, not until some faceless stranger kidnapped him for reasons Stoick never wants to know.

He couldn’t traverse the ice to go get him, it would’ve never been able to hold his weight if it couldn’t hold Hiccup’s. All he was able to do, all any of them were able to do, was watch in fear as Hiccup cried and clawed and struggled to get out.

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Somehow that incident ended well. Somehow Hiccup managed to pull himself back up on slightly thicker ice than the parts that kept breaking on him. He got far enough away from the hole that someone could pull him the rest of the way. Once he was pulled back, Stoick and Valka enclosed him in their arms, his tiny and wet body cold in their embrace.

Neither of them have ever forgotten that day and it’s all Stoick can think about now. He can still hear Hiccup’s voice.

“Mom! Dad!” He’d cried for their help, something he has rarely ever done growing up. No matter how many problems may pile and pile, Hiccup has always wanted to solve things himself before he called in any sort of help. It’s probably why, after recovering from his amputation, he wanted to pull Toothless out of his guilt.

Stoick wonders if that was what had gotten him kidnapped. There are plenty of stories of people pretending to be hurt or in distress just to lure in unsuspecting good-natured people. If anybody could fall for such a scam, it would be Hiccup. Every part of his mind could be telling him that this person was up to no good and he would still act on that small, small “what if this person truly is in trouble?”

Is that what got him kidnapped? What got him... killed? Was Hiccup simply too pure of heart and did someone take advantage of that to snuff out his light?

After the lake incident, they drove him to the hospital as fast as they could and they found out he was okay. The doctor there told them he would be just fine and that they just needed to keep him warm and dry until his temperature was back up. After that, they could take him home with them.

He hadn’t lost consciousness, he didn’t seem to have swallowed or breathed in too much water, they could be almost certain that he was entirely okay.

As for his parents, however, they were never quite the same after that accident. Once Hiccup was dry, Stoick held his shivering son to him and vowed to him that he would never let anything happen to him ever again.

It’s a vow he broke twice.

Hiccup bounces back from pretty much anything thrown at him. After his fall, he would sneak out to play when his parents would much rather have him home with them. And though he wouldn’t go back on a frozen lake again, he’d still go out swimming with his friends.

During his divorce with Valka, though it was a painful time for all of them, he seemed to understand why it needed to happen and adjusted quickly. Even when asked if he thought badly of his parents months after it was finalized, he’d told them “no”, that it was better this way.

When a dragon went and bit his leg off, Hiccup went on to not only see the darn thing again, but he made friends with it and decided to fully dedicate his life to dragonkind. At 15, he wasn’t sure yet where he wanted his life to go, not until that accident.

Again and again, Stoick promised his son that nothing would ever happen to him after this. He held him in the hospital after his birth as he promised, then a second time after the lake, then a third time as he held his hand just before the surgery that would take his leg. Chances are, he will never get to promise him a fourth time.

Sitting on the couch, not paying attention to the tv and wasting away, there are tears in his eyes. Never much of an emotional man, Stoick doesn’t feel like he can stop them.

Strictly statistically speaking, the chances of a missing person ever being found alive, or even found at all, dwindles by the day and Hiccup has been gone since early June.

It’s December now.

The horrendous theories from the police don’t help either. Some even dare to put the blame on Hiccup, insinuating that his death, not his vanishing, but his death , might’ve been caused by a crime of passion. 19 years old, handsome, tall, capable, who isn’t to say he’s been cheating on his girlfriend and either she or the mistress found out? Naturally, that meant Astrid was a suspect at some point, too.

Stoick remembers seeing her after an interrogation once. Her parents came to pick her up at the same time he’d come to the station to demand an update.

She’d been distraught, face red and eyes bloodshot. Hiccup was her boyfriend of a year, her childhood friend, and they’d accused her of killing him over something like that. While cheating is no trivial matter, it’s not something she would kill over. Besides that, everyone who knew Hiccup also knows that he would’ve never done such a thing to her in the first place.

Then they settled for the most likely culprit, which was Dagur.

Stoick won’t lie, it felt good to finally hear from the police that they got him and that he would answer for his crimes, but that only lasted for… what? A day? Two days? A week at most? The relief ended quickly because the question of what happened to Hiccup remains unanswered to this day and Dagur stubbornly persists that he’s “getting better”, that he “would never hurt Hiccup”. And frankly, a part of Stoick seems to believe the young man.

Gods, why didn’t he just let him go live with Valka to study dragons? He wouldn’t have needed to move out and gotten an apartment deeper in their town. He would’ve already been living in the sanctuary if he did.

Or maybe the sanctuary was part of the problem. It’s not exactly a car ride away, you need to take the ferry there. So perhaps, part of the reason why he didn’t let Hiccup study dragons, he now realizes, is because he didn’t want him to go so far away.

How ironic, then, that someone decided to take him away anyway when he wasn’t looking. As if someone knew of Stoick’s inability to let go of his only child and thought that they should be the one to make him.

This never would’ve happened if he let Hiccup do as he wished. On the sanctuary, surrounded by dragons who know and love him, where Valka is, he would’ve been perfectly safe. Stoick may as well have asked someone to kidnap him.

It’s a painful thought and a tear falls, but Stoick doesn’t fight the guilt that he feels. This is all his fault. If he didn’t constantly break his vow to keep his child safe, Hiccup would still be here.

Gobber can read every self-deprecating thought on his old friend’s face, can see the tears, and sighs deeply before he looks back at the tv. On the channel they’re watching, they’re now installing some plumbing on a different program.

He wishes he could take the hurt away, wishes he could say something, but everything that can possibly be said he’s already said.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Stoick.”

“They’ll find him, Stoick.”

“Hiccup’s a strong and smart lad, Stoick”.

He’s sick of repeating himself. He doesn’t even believe his own words, so why should he continue to spout these lies? To a grieving father especially?

Hiccup is smart and he is strong, but does that mean he could still be alive today?

The will to comfort his friend quickly abates in the face of his own doubts and loss, Gobber feels like he may as well follow Stoick’s example and waste away alongside him. What else is left for him to do?

Just then, Stoick’s phone rings.

Snapping them both of their contemplation, Stoick picks it up and looks at the caller’s ID. It’s Astrid, the poor lass. He doesn’t feel like talking to her, but then, he also didn’t feel like letting Gobber in, so he answers the call.

“Astrid, lass?” He acknowledges her, hand rubbing in his eyes.

His eyes widen suddenly and he shoots up from the couch, startling Gobber in the process.

“Stoick?” He wonders what’s gotten him so riled up and so out of nowhere. What could Astrid possibly be telling him?

“Yes, I’m still here. Thank you for telling me, lass, I’m coming. Please, tell him that when he wakes up.” Eventually, after what felt like much too long of a call to Gobber, Stoick hangs up the phone and stares at him with that same wide-eyed look he can’t quite place. The tears are still there, they’re still falling, so what is that expression telling him?

“What is it, man?! Don’t keep me waiting, spit it out!” He demands, throwing his remaining hand up in growing frustration.

“They found him, Gobber. They found my son.”

Perhaps, Stoick can still make good on that vow.

[wallwriterstuff]

Dear Sister Part 2 ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

Dear Sister Part 1

Words: 5451 Warnings: A lot more swearing than I intended, and a fair bit of angst 

So this took a lot longer to put up than I had intended it to but unfortunately real life got in the way, but I’m back and ready to get my writing on beautiful humans! Keep your eyes peeled for more requests and some more random crap from the inner workings of my mind :D 

Request for @tiger-khans-blog​: Hey there I am really amused by your style of writing stories.Can I ask you another request for Alec Volturi? The thing is Demetri's younger younger Sister the reader fled from her family.As they had the tradition to get the girls married in a early age.And the reader is a Creator gifted Vampire.The Volturi gets to her.She is asked to join them.She recognizes Demetri immediately.She goes and hugs him.Demetri recognizes her.And she finds out that Alec and her mate bond.That's why she decides to torment Alec.So that he doesn't want her.But everything goes opposite.Alec falls for her head to heels.Then her Casanova image gets revealed that she is no less than her brother. Alec tries to convince her to give him a chance.Then Alec tries all the ways to make her fall in love with him too. Then she lastly agrees.Demetri gets against of this relationship.Then he tries to make them separated.But he becomes unsuccessful. As Jane is his mate.

How on Earth did they get here?

Alec could only blink as she slammed him into the wall of his room. He felt the stone crumble around his shoulders as she pushed him further into the rubble. He grit his teeth, a sharp sting running over his skin as the venom sealed the small cracks breaking apart his flesh.

“You did this!” she snarled. It was such sweet agony feeling the heat of her body so close to his, her skin sending sparks flying across his own. He wished it were under better circumstances.

“Actually, you were the one who invaded my room.” Alec pointed out, a hint of the bitterness he felt creeping into his voice. He was certain he was in the right; he’d not been sleeping around knowing his mate was in the same building as him after all. He had tried to get to know her, learned to love everything about her, and she’d just…thrown it all back in his face.

“What gave you the right to talk about me like that in front of all of those people? You do not even know me! You ruined everything between Santiago and me! My own brother thinks me a whore! You disgraced me in front of everyone we work with.” she was so close, her lips a hairs breadth from his own and spitting venom his way. Alec hissed, his vision flaring red briefly, but even though he was more furious than he had ever thought he could be he couldn’t bring himself to put his hands on her, to push her away. Once she stepped back he knew she’d be out of his reach forever. He could feel it deep down in his bones that this was a violent, permanent goodbye.

“Santiago should never have been with you in the first place, you belong with me! Fate has said so!” he snapped. Alec balled his fists at his sides, feeling the sweet numbness on his fingertips and knowing he would unleash it if he wasn’t careful enough. He glared her down, her own black eyes swallowing him whole. How was any of this fair? Her anger was unjustified! His was not! He had every right to be furious with her obvious disregard for their bond.

“Fuck fate! I belong to no one! How dare you assume you have ownership of me because you felt your dick twitch when you first saw me!” she spat, shoving away from him. He felt his shoulder crack unpleasantly but ignored the sting of it healing, too busy seething and trembling as he fought back the urge to lunge at her, trap her against the door she was walking towards so she couldn’t leave him. Had all those days spent in the library been wasted? Did she really feel nothing for him? Did she not see he that he would do anything for her?

“Y/N-“

“Keep my name out of your mouth, you have no right to speak it,” she hissed, turning in the doorway to send daggers his way with her eyes one last time. “Keep far away from me Alec Volturi. For the eternity I have left on this Earth I do not ever want to see it again.” She slammed the door shut behind her and Alec crumpled. Venom stung his eyes for the first time in years, and a horrible heaving noise echoed through his room. He didn’t realise it was him until Jane rushed to his side and pulled him close.

Alec hadn’t cried the way he did right then since the day they’d burned.

Y/N wasn’t around for a very long time after that. Months passed without her presence and Alec grew entirely numb to it all. He went to trials, stood in the background on missions, but nothing changed, he didn’t change. Alec had become utterly mute, not even Jane could get him to speak a word anymore and he spent all of his free time sitting in front of the fireplace in his room, stroking the worn cover of a copy of Private Berlin. Y/N had introduced him to the series and this was his favourite one; she’d bought all of the books for him and in his rage this was the only book he hadn’t destroyed. Every passing moment of his day felt like a fight against quick-sand that was trying to drag him down, and he was so, so close to giving up. What was the point? Y/N had taken half of him with her when she left and there was no good reason to continue unless he could become whole again.

Demetri often received post cards from her, and he had heard whispers of what these postcards contained. Clearly, she was having a wonderful time. She was travelling the world and sampling all the types of people each continent had to offer. It made Alec’s very soul ache whenever he had to hear about it. Given his empty state of being it wasn’t hard to understand why nobody really came to check on him anymore – he was hardly offering the most scintillating conversation -  which was partially why he was so confused to see Demetri sitting in front of him on his sofa. The tracker looked sombre, forearms resting on his knees as he glanced down at the book in his hands before looking up to meet his eyes again.

“Alec you have to stop this. We are all worried about you.” Demetri sighed. If he had the capacity to feel anything at all, Alec would be angry at him too right now. How was it fair that he could insult his sister and exchange cruel words with her, yet it was Demetri she would still stay in contact with? Alec had made one mistake! He had made plenty more. Demetri waited patiently for him to say something, anything, but Alec wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. What was there left to say after all? His mate had walked right out of his life without so much as a goodbye.

Just leave Alec thought. The very bones of him were tired.  

“Jane worries for you, and I cannot stand to see her beside herself over you.” He continued.

Then Jane can tell me as much herself Alec mentally groaned, though his face remained apathetic. Demetri would never guess his head was actually full to bursting with a host of negative thoughts when his face suggested his mind was painfully blank. He traced the images on the cover of his book, heart aching sharply like it was just yesterday she had left all over again.

“When I lost my sister the first time my heart ached in ways I had never known it could ache before. I know the feeling of loss-“

“My sister holds you every night like to let you go would be the death of her. What do you know of the way my heart aches?” Alec couldn’t stop the sharp words escaping him, his tongue whipping the tracker into submission. For the first time in a long time he felt the frustration Demetri brought out in him so strongly it was able to overwhelm the numbness in his soul. Alec was somewhat to be able to feel something for once, but it brought with it the undeniable heartache already nagging in the background, threatening to drown him once more. Demetri was quiet for a long while, staring down at his hands as he thought over his words.

“Alec, I-“

“Do not lecture me on affairs of the heart Demetri, how many did you have to break before you finally found one you felt was worth keeping intact?” Alec huffed, unfurling from the curled-up position he’d been sat in to plant his feet on the floor. He ran his hands up into his hair and scrubbed at his scalps with a sigh. As angry as he wanted to be with Demetri maybe he was struggling to feel it for more than just the perpetual numbness. Maybe he couldn’t be angry because deep down, he knew Demetri didn’t deserve it. The man had lost his sister twice over. He was grieving her absence as much as Alec was.  

“The first time my sister left, she was betrothed to an older man in the village who was a shoe in to become a partner in a cloth merchants firm. This merchant was one of the wealthiest men in town and her husband to be would soon have been amongst the upper echelons of society. Our family would have been propelled into wealth, status…these were the things my mother cared about. Not Y/N, though.” Demetri smiled, a wan and wistful thing that radiated hurt so intense it made Alec pause.

“What did she care about?” he asked finally. Demetri’s expression softened.

“The people she loved. She cared about the people she loved. One of them was a girl called Erato, a whore.” He told him. Alec’s brows furrowed. In a fraction of a second he had recalled every conversation they had ever had, the words imprinted on his mind and held dear in his heart as the only reminder she had ever once been with him. He understood almost immediately what had driven her away.

“He was said to have beaten all the whores in the brothel.” He quoted Y/N. Alec could remember the fire in her eyes, recall the sharpness of her tone. The anger she felt at her engagement had been obvious and the hurt had been strong enough to last a millenia. Demetri nodded solemnly.

“Erato was beside herself the night she came to Y/N, but mother would not call off the wedding. She would not trust the word of a whore and ruin our family’s chance at social success. Y/N ran away the very same night and was lost to me for a thousand years until she chose to find us. Do you not see, Alec?” he asked with a sigh. Alec’s brows furrowed, and then he settled back in his seat with a sigh.

“I see the wrong person sitting in front of me. I am tired Demetri, I don’t want riddles, if you’re here to tell me something profound then get on with it please.”

“Y/N has never been quiet about injustice! If she perceives anything that is happening to herself or others to be wrong or detrimental to wellbeing, she fights back. Bloody hell Alec! You stood from afar and never made a move to claim her as your mate!” Demetri sounded exasperated at this point and Alec couldn’t stop the hysterically choked laugh from escaping.

“She’s made it pretty clear I’m not intended to have her as my mate. She’s so powerful she can laugh in the face of fate.” He pointed out. Demetri groaned.

“But she isn’t!” he insisted, pushing to his feet and dropping a stack of colourful looking postcards on the coffee table, “Read them Alec. As loath as I am to admit it, she is miserable without you.” He shook his head as he left, the door closing a little harder than necessary. Part of Alec was satisfied because Demetri finally knew the sheer struggle of letting your sister be with someone you intensely wished they weren’t with. The other part was terrified of the small stack of cards on his tabletop. The loopy handwriting was a familiar scrawl, something that tried to be elegant but was close to illegible because she never had time to write things down, too busy experiencing the moment in real time. He could faintly smell her scent lingering on the surface of each one, and his mouth felt very dry as he reached for the stack.

Demetrius,

Paris remains lovely as ever, but the lights seem dimmer than they were my last visit. Monsieur Ardoin is as hospitable as ever. Give my regards to our mutual friends.

Love, Y/N

So she’d been to Paris had she? He tried to ignore the bitter hatred that roiled in his gut at the mention of this Monsieur Ardoin but it was hard to stop, and the next three were the same. More names, more cities. Alec scowled, slapping down the card and leaning back in his chair. His hand ran over his face, as if he could somehow scrub the words from where they’d been imprinted on his eyeballs. The colourful little cards were taunting him though, the weakest trace of her scent caressing his nose and muddling his mind.

“Damn it all to hell.” He growled, reaching for the next one. They were addictive. A fresh and recent part of her for him to treasure, but the pain in him seared deeper with every word…or not? His brows furrowed, his body leaning forward as if being as physically close to the paper as possible might bring him some relief. If his heart still beat, it might have stopped.

Demetrius,

How am I to believe your words are true? I might have once loved him, but Alec made it clear he never felt the same. How can I believe he held any sort of affection for me when he treated me no differently to any other person in the guard? I will not come back, I could not face any of them. That does not mean you could not visit me, you will always know where to find me after all, brother.

All my love, Y/N

Alec felt his eyes widen. It was…his fault? He did this? He ruined his own chance of happiness? He thought back to all those bittersweet memories he had (the only thing left of her now) where they had wiled away evenings reading in the library. They had always been opposite ends of the sofa, as was proper, never crossing that boundary, and whenever he risked glances at her she never seemed to be looking his way but the distinct tinkling of jewellery…had that meant she was looking at him and turning away before he could notice? The day they met her smirk had dropped for that briefest second, like the freight-train of emotion he’d been contending with had hit her to. Oh…oh how could he be so stupid!

He was out of the door and hammering on Demetri’s in the next second, the tracker opening the door with a deep frown.

“Alec you need to-“

“Where?” he demanded. Demetri blinked, his face going blank for a second. Alec felt every extremity twitch, the urgent need to move move move eating away at him.

“London.” He said finally, his tone obviously reluctant. Alec turned on his heel, ready to leave immediately, the consequences be damned.

“I have to-“

“Find her,” Demetri finished for him, though his face looked like he’d sucked a lemon, “I may not like it, but I suppose you have never liked it either have you? You have to find her. bring my sister home Alec…we’ll see about the rest after.” Alec very nearly laughed but the moment was too serious for that. Demetri’s acceptance of his bond with Y/N, however grudging, only made him more determined to find her.

“Tell me when you have a more precise location!” Alec called over his shoulder, already two floors down and headed for the door. Maybe the masters needed to know of his departure, maybe they didn’t, but if he was certain of anything it was his position in the guard. He was too valuable for them to lose and if he returned home with his mate…well Aro would probably be so pleased that his running away would most likely be forgotten about. Y/N had to accept him after all of this, didn’t she? What was more romantic than running across a continent and through a bloody ocean after your love? By the time Demetri called him back Alec was forced to hide in some rundown warehouse on the outskirts of a city he knew very little given its constant evolution – forgetting his credit cards was a double wounder.

The minute the sun went down he moved.

He was sure the Savile Row tailors wouldn’t miss just one Gucci suit, right? Even if it was worth over £1500. He was fairly sure that ridiculously pruned flowerbed in front of her hotel wouldn’t miss those flowers either. She had already opened the door before he had chance to knock.

“I am going to have Demetrius’s head on a stick.”

“I know you are angry but please, Y/N, give me time to explain.” He wedged his foot in the doorway, surprised when she didn’t attempt to close it. Her expression was devoid of emotion but she wasn’t turning him away just yet. Alec took it as a good sign, even if she wasn’t seemingly willing to let him in just yet.

“Your time is dwindling away Alec. Why are you here?” she asked. Alec looked her over, clearly dressed to go out and enjoy a night on the town. He held out the flowers.

“I want – no I need you to know, that every moment of your absence has been abysmal for me. I need you to know I will follow you to the ends of the Earth, endure any trial, overcome any obstacle, if it means you will understand how necessary you are to my very existence. I made the mistake of not letting you know that before, let me rectify that here, now. Give me a chance to prove to you Y/N that I cannot leave here without you.” He kept his voice firm, bold, but inside he crumbled. Here was this headstrong, independent woman who had survived the world just fine before she met him and could do so again if she made him leave. He had nothing left to do but pray she would accept him. Her eyes fell to the flowers.

“You do know I hate tulips, right?” Alec’s heart fell, chest tightening.

“I do now.” He said.

“I have dinner plans, Alec.” She sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

“Then let me take you to dinner.” He insisted.

“They are not the kind of plans that require a partner or a chaperone,” She retorted, “Maybe your life is abysmal but I happen to be doing just fine without you. Whatever Demetrius has told you in some desperate attempt to bring me home is false. You have my apologies for the inconvenience the journey must have caused.” She reached behind the door and pulled on a denim jacket, bringing some shades out of the pocket and slipping them over dark, burgundy eyes. Alec grit his teeth, watching as she locked her door.

“Demetri didn’t have to tell me anything, I read your postcards. You’re not happy, Y/N, and neither am I, so what is the sense of-“

“Opening someone else’s mail is considered a federal crime in some places. I would have thought a man devoted to upholding such laws would know that.” She snapped, still walking away from him. Alec hurried after her.

“I am not leaving until you give me a chance. Just one, Y/N, just one.” He hissed, reaching for her arm. His hand went straight through her and he stopped dead, his heart breaking all over again as she strode into the lift without breaking stride and pressed a button on the panel. She turned on her heel, pulling her shades down her nose to peer sharply at him over the black plastic rim.

“Just no, Alec, just no.” she retorted. The doors slid closed between them and Alec was left alone, jaw tight and fingers clenching into fists at his sides. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, letting the waves of pain and frustration overtake him. He really didn’t enjoy the way a warm hand clasped his shoulder, because it wasn’t hers. Alec had whirled before the man even had chance to turn away, his teeth sinking into his windpipe and hands viciously tightening around his biceps. Bones cracked and veins burst, but it wasn’t enough to quell all of his anger. Not until the man and his wife were mangled beyond repair as well as the security guard who was guarding the CCTV tape that could have outed his very existence, did Alec manage to start thinking clearly again.

As a fire consumed their bodies in the dumpster in the next borough over, he fixed his shirt sleeves and refastened his cufflinks. He drew in a deep breath, smelling the oncoming storm in the air and simply listening to the sounds of the city. If Y/N wasn’t going to give him a chance he was simply going to have to create one, and that meant getting imaginative. What did you do for the girl that could have it all? She was powerful enough to create any gift. If she wanted something she easily got it, so how was Alec supposed to get what he wanted? Hell, she had probably already created foresight and was watching his every decision like that Cullen woman could so nothing would be a good enough surprise.

Maybe he didn’t have to surprise her though.

She was still out when he got back to her room, some stolen hotel stationary allowing him to leave a note he hoped she would read on her bed. Maybe flowers weren’t the way to her heart but another type of gift would do better? She was always wearing jewellery of some sort, so maybe some new jewellery was the way to her heart?

She never showed up at the time he had requested to meet with her.

Alec left another note a few days later, tracking her to a new hotel this time, but she didn’t show up so he could take her to the theatre either. He had hoped that a slew of invitations to various date-themed evenings would maybe make her understand he knew what he had done wrong now. He understood that by not making a move beforehand he had damaged her self-esteem and hurt her feelings, but if he could reverse that mistake now…He ran a hand over his face with a sigh, pen poised to write the latest in a long line of invitations to spend the evening with him exploring the Kew gardens. It was closed of course but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sneak in. A soft sizzling noise made him turn swiftly, fangs bared at the intruder until he realised the lingering wisps of red slowly dissipating in the air revealed the one person he wanted to see the most.

Violently red eyes glared back at him, her face set in the ugliest scowl she still somehow made beautiful. Y/N had her arms folded across her chest, her stance defensive.

“I detest flowers.” She hissed. Alec frowned.

“Then talk to me and tell me what you would like to do! I am trying Y/N and I will keep true to my vow. I will try for the rest of eternity to win you back if it’s what has to be done!” Alec said fiercely. He pushed to his feet, feeling frustration give way to hysteria as a short, mirthless laugh escaped him. “For the love of all that’s holy how can you not see the depths of my devotion to you!”

“Because your devotion is not to me!” she cried, “It never is for anybody! Your devotion is and always will be to my power! So many have sought to own me and what I can do and all have come using words and gifts as a way to try and trap me, as if I am so shallow as to be lured in by shiny things.” Alec blinked, taken aback by her tone. He had expected bitter anger, he was ready to welcome her fury and instead she simply sounded broken.

“You think I care for your gift? Y/N, my place in the guard is secure by what I can do. No threat or bribe to get you back brought me here, merely my need to have you by my side.” He murmured, frowning now. She took a step back when he stepped closer, her eyes pleading with him to stay put.

“Then why did you leave me to wonder what I did wrong?” she demanded. He had no doubt now that if she could cry she would have been. “If you felt so deeply for me why did you never say as such? I sat for months on the opposite end of the sofa to you, wishing you might feel the same for me, and when you finally decide to declare your feelings it is not to me whom you declare them but an entire room of strangers who then think of me as a whore for ignoring the very bond you were the first to neglect!”

Alec was quiet for a moment, digesting this information. His mind came up blank. There was no easy answer to it, no way to right the wrong that would ever erase the monumental amount of hurt between them.

“We’ve really made such a mess of this, haven’t we?” he said finally, lowering his gaze.

“How your sister and Demetrius make it look so easy I do not know…it is sickening.” She admitted with a huff. Alec couldn’t help but laugh, the smallest of smiles twitching his lips upward.

“I’ve been telling them so for almost three years now. I suppose that was another thing I did wrong really wasn’t it? I detest that he’s with my sister and yet I threw it in his face that I was supposed to be with his.” He shook his head. There was a pregnant pause.

“I like that better,” She said softly. Alec looked back at her, head tilting as he tried to figure out what she meant. “Be with. I like you saying be with rather than to have.” She clarified.

“That might be the first thing I’ve ever managed to make you happy with then…I truly am sorry, Y/N, for everything,” he said sincerely. She didn’t stop him this time when he stepped forward into her space, taking her hands in his owns and bringing her fingers to his lips. Her breath hitched at the delicate kiss he placed against her knuckles. “I realise now nothing I can do will ever make up for the hurt I’ve caused you, but we’ve both suffered enough haven’t we? If I can’t fix this mistake, give me the chance to start fresh with you, to make sure I don’t make anymore. I love you far, far too much to give up on you entirely, but if you can look me in the eyes and tell me you truly do not want me then…then I’ll leave now and not bother you again.”

The mere thought he might have to just leave her behind was so painful. He knew exactly what he would do if she chose to send him away now, knew exactly where he could go – the Romanians were always looking for a chance to get one up on them after all. Y/N seemed to sense the despair he was feeling. She had rejected all of his advances thus far so why would this one be any different? Her grip on his hands tightened.

“I am so tired of running from you.” She whispered. Alec exhaled sharply, disbelief showing on his face briefly before he composed himself. He tenderly cupped her cheek.

“Then stop running from me, and if you can’t bring yourself to stop running, let me run beside you.” He implored. For once when she locked eyes with him, Alec didn’t feel his stomach drop in anticipation or overcome with nerves. Everything finally felt how it should be when he was with his mate. His spirit calmed, his entire being relaxing into the moment. He didn’t even notice they had teleported anywhere until he was pushed backward and his eyes stopped zeroing in on her. He frowned, glancing about at his bookcase, his bed, all the things he was familiar with.

“Y/N…please-“

“Shhhh, if you’re not quiet enough they’ll hear you packing a bag.” She hissed, giving him a shove towards his closet. Alec blinked in shock, frozen for a minute before he broke into a wide smile, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He had never moved so fast in all of his life.

“Would you pair please find a room?” Demetri grumbled. Jane glanced at him, her amusement obvious while she cuddled closer to his side. Alec however had no intention as stopping anytime soon. She tasted far too good and stealing kisses from her as they watched a movie was his new favourite pastime. It was only very reluctantly after another complaint that Alec pulled back from his mate, amused by her scowl. She caught his jaw before he could turn away from him.

“Ignore him, he’s jealous Jane doesn’t like the taste of brunette on his tongue.” She quipped. She pulled him back to her with a smirk and Alec grinned a bit, claiming her mouth with a more passionate kiss than before. He didn’t want to push his luck however and parted from her fairly quickly, brushing her pout with his thumb and a twinkle in his eye that promised her patience would be rewarded soon enough. With her legs slung across his lap the group had settled to watch a movie a little over an hour ago, and Alec had been distracted ever since she’d settled against her side. He still found it incredible that they had spent months roaming the world together and still needed to be near each other almost constantly to be even remotely happy. It was unhealthy perhaps, but where else would they be?

The masters had not been happy with his disappearance as predicted, but his position had, as he had predicted meant little punishment. As soon as Y/N had spoken out and told Aro less than eloquently they could easily ‘fuck off’ again, Caius was left to stew in his rage while they resumed normal duties without any severe punishment. They simply didn’t get time off for a while but that was easily worked around, easily endured knowing they were in the same place and not to be separated again.

“Fine, if I cannot kiss you I will not torment myself sitting here and take a shower instead.” Y/N rolled her eyes, kissed his lips lightly and disappeared from his side in a flash of red. Alec smiled slightly, shaking his head a bit as Demetri sighed.

“I understand it now. I understand why you hate me. I detest you Alec, I truly and thoroughly detest you.” He admitted.

“Demetri!” Jane scowled. Alec simply laughed.

“Hate me as much as you like, your sister doesn’t.” he teased. Demetri groaned a little.

“Just…she seems happy. Keep her that way, will you?” he requested. Alec turned serious then, nodding his head as Jane rolled her eyes, protesting he was being a hypocrite.

“If you agree to do the same for Jane.” He promised. Demetri nodded once, both of them quickly diverting their attention back to the TV. It had taken him over a thousand years to find his mate and Alec had no intention of messing it up now. Though their story had begun with hurt, they were both determined to write a better ending, and they had an eternity ahead of them to make it as perfect as could be.

[lokislittlesigyn]

OG616 : Thor 1 - Pt.6 [The Mourning]

[My masterlist, where all parts of this and my other fics can be found]

Pairing: Loki / Sigyn (basically an oc based off the marvel/myth namesake)

Warnings: Angst, some.. Hopelessness? And mild flirting.

Author’s Note: Very long one here. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @high-functioning-lokipath

To be added to the taglist, just ask me here or send a message! <3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A very distinct, sharp pain washed over Sigyn as she pondered Odin's words. Like a knife plunging into her gut, twisting, pulling - but never leaving. Only hurting worse and worse, the very air in her lungs seizing up.

Loki is dead.

Her throat burned.

Loki is dead.

Tears streamed down her face.

My Loki is dead.

She broke. Her entire body shook with a sob as she collapsed onto the couch she was seated on, weeping. "He can't, he- He's not, he's not.."

"Sister.." Thor wrapped her in a hug, his jaw set firm. Frigga placed a hand on her back.

Odin’s grip tightened around Gungnir. "He's gone."

"No he's not."

"Sigyn-"

"He's NOT!" She screamed, struggling in Thor's grip, who clenched his jaw as he held her. "He's not- He can't be, he.. Loki.." Her body gave way, unable to cope.

Thor helped her stand, letting her sob against him.

"I wish it were true," Odin resumed, forgiving the interruption, "That he could still be with us. But he made his choice."

Sigyn glared at him.

"You made your choice when you lied to him! When you lied to all of us for countless years. We built our life around that lie!" She choked back another sob. "Now our lives are ruined because of it."

Odin didn't respond.

"Sigyn, have care how you speak." Frigga stepped between them, finally composed, though her eyes still glistened. "We need time to grieve, all of us. But perhaps, you most of all." She cupped Sigyn's cheek, wiping a tear away. "Go rest. Arguing will breed nothing but more pain."

Frigga was right. Arguing now would only make things worse - Odin wasn’t exactly known for a cool temper. But her head was still spinning. Loki couldn't be gone. There had to be some other way. Straightening up, Sigyn wrung her hands together. Swallowed. "I-I am sorry, Allfather.. I spoke out of line.."

Odin waved his hand, still looking away.

"Thor," Frigga managed a gentle smile at her son, "Please take Sigyn back to her chambers before you visit the healers."

Thor nodded, and without another word, he and Sigyn left.

~~~~

Sigyn stayed in her chambers for days on end. She ignored the time. Refused to eat. Refused to sleep in her bed - no, their bed - it still smelled like him. She spoke to no one. Retreated into the solace of being completely and entirely alone. Once the dust had settled, the wounded healed, and the palace put back in order, a feast was held for those who defended Asgard and helped Thor return home.

Sigyn was required to attend.

I can't exactly refuse... She reasoned, pulling on an emerald green gown. Putting on her favorite necklace, she gazed in the mirror.

She was pale. Paler than usual. Sickly and thin, with dark circles under her eyes. Hardly the shining goddess she would be expected to appear as. She looked down at the necklace. She’d had it for a long time. A rectangular medallion on a thin, metal chain - the medallion bearing two serpents, intertwined with each other, each biting their own tail. A symbol of Loki’s adaptability and cunning.

"If you should like to...” Loki had murmured, obviously nervous has he offered it to her, “I would be honored to see you wear it.”

It had been a perfect gift, marrying her colors with his symbol. She barely took it off, except of course when she was expected to wear coordinating clothes. Then it lived in a small wooden box on the dresser, safe from dust.

This will be my first meal without you. She ran her thumb over the symbol. I love you. I miss you.

Composing herself, she left her room.

~~~~

Servants and guests alike stared at Sigyn when she arrived. She was late. She adjusted the necklace, ignored their whispering. Ignored the stares, the side glances...

Maybe I should’ve stayed alone.

"Sigyn.." Sif walked up to her. "I am so sorry for your loss.."

Sigyn merely watched the warrior as she spoke. She felt like something inside her had died along with Loki. Something was lost. She wasn’t sure if it would ever return.

Sif swallowed. "Truly, I am."

With great effort, Sigyn spoke, her voice dry from lack of use. "Thank you, Sif." She forced as much of a smile as she could, then took her seat.

Conversation picked back up. Stories were told. Laughter spread.

Sigyn stayed there. Motionless. Expressionless. Staring at her untouched goblet. This wasn't worth it. Nothing was worth it. Nothing had meaning anymore.

She turned to look at all the guests. They were eating together happily, drinks sloshing over their food as they raised toasts and struggled to contain their laughter at Volstagg’s stories.

Their spouses hadn't been taken from them. They hadn't lost someone.

This is life now, isn't it. Sigyn turned back to her empty plate. This is the lot I was cast.

Her vision grew blurry with tears.

The curse worked. Loki is dead. I'll never be loved agai-

No.

She clenched her jaw.

Don't you dare start thinking like that. Don't you give up now. Keep going. Keep fighting. If not for yourself, for him. Do it for him.

She looked back at all the familiar faces around her.

Be strong. Be strong for him.

A tear ran down her cheek.

Make him proud.

"A toast, to Asgard! For the glory of our realm!" Roared Volstagg, raising his glass.

Be strong for Loki.

Sigyn stood and raised her glass with a smile.

"To Asgard. Our home."

~~~~

Time passed. The grief-stricken goddess still wept for her lost husband, still dreamed about him every night. But as the months went on, she wept less. She slowly began healing from the wound deep within her heart. Accepted that for now, Loki was gone.

For now.

She had thrown herself into old books and tomes, determined to improve, to make her husband proud. In the shadows of familiar bookcases within the palace library, she found writings on the Norns. The sisters Wyrd, Veranthi, and Skuld - three powerful beings controlling the past, present, and future. And there in the crumpled pages, she found a familiar symbol: the web of Wyrd.

Three sets of overlapping lines, the it symbolized the inherent interconnections of all actions - and all realities. How the past influenced the present, the present the future, and the future, perhaps the next life.

Our next life... Once the Asgardian twilight comes, and I embrace a final sleep, I will wake up and see him again.

We won’t be alone.

She would remind herself, with each new day, she was another step closer to seeing him again someway, somehow. Alive or dead, they would be reunited. The thought of it inspired a little spark of hope within her. With each passing day, she spent hours pouring over old spellbooks. Studying ancient runes, practicing spells. Mastering them.

She filled books with ideas, charts, musings.

And most of all, she remembered Loki.

She mapped out his entire life, beginning to end. Considered everything that had happened. Asking Thor, Odin, and Frigga exactly what he'd said to them - and exactly how they'd responded. Recorded what they said in books of her own. It helped her grieve.

But it also served her in other ways.

Rumors spread quickly throughout Asgard. Rumors of the prince who was hungry for power. Who stole the throne, and tried to kill his own brother to keep it. Who abandoned his wife in her time of need. Who betrayed his family and his realm.

The liesmith.

Trickster.

Murderer.

Sigyn considered it her duty to dispel false assumptions about him. And as she traded for a new book at the marketplace, she heard one such assumption. A group of ladies stood nearby, gossiping over their goods.

"There she is - that's her, the princess."

"Oh my,"

"Lokiwife, wasn't it?"

"Yes, that's her," A pretty brunette leaned in closer to the others, "I heard she and Loki had quite the time before he.. Well," she frowned, earning murmurs from her group.

Sigyn glanced their way, eavesdropping on their conversation, tucking the book into her satchel.

A blonde nodded in agreement. "Anyone would have a rough time if their husband abandoned them like he did."

"Abandoned?"

"Oh yes," The blonde shook her head, "It was just awful. The Warriors Three said he was always envious of Thor, always wanted the throne. And when he got the chance to steal the throne, he took it."

"If only Thor had been crowned in time. None of this would have happened.” The youngest piped up. The brunette shrugged an agreement.

“Such a waste - we waited hours for that coronation.”

“We had such a nice view, too.."

"A nice view of Prince Thor, certainly." The brunette nodded, her cheeks turning a slight pink.

The blonde smirked. "I'd even say Loki was glad Allfather Odin fell into the Odinsleep.. After all, that gave him access to the throne."

"Finally got him what he wanted," Mused the brunette.

The blonde huffed, "Though a lot of good it did him. Abandoned his wife and his honor, and what did he gain? He's likely in Helheim now.." The group murmured again in agreement.

Sigyn couldn’t take it anymore. "Excuse me - beg your pardon, ladies," She smiled, walking over to them. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."

The women's eyes went wide. They bowed, paying their respects. Sigyn nodded her own greeting.

The brunette was the first to speak. "Yes, Princess, we were discussing your husband.."

"And his life's motivations. I heard." Sigyn glanced at the blonde, who gulped.

"We meant no offense to you, Princess.."

"Tell me, did any of you know Loki?"

They shook their heads.

Sigyn sighed. "You must understand: he was not evil. The Loki I knew had not a single malicious bone in his body."

"But he was jealous, Princess. Lady Sif said so, I heard her discussing it over a goblet of mead.." The blonde fidgeted.

"And she's right."

The ladies blinked.

Sigyn straightened up. "Sif is correct. Loki was jealous. And do you know why? He spent his life feeling less than Thor. How do you think Loki felt, then, when he found out his life was a lie? That his greatest fear was true because he was different, he was lesser?”

The women were quiet. Sigyn paused, then continued.

“Loki didn't want the throne. He wanted to be like Thor. To be equal, not less. So when Queen Frigga gave him the throne - he took it. She told him to make his father proud, and he tried to do just that. He tried to prove to Odin he loved him, he was his son, and - and yes, he tried to have Thor killed." Sigyn swallowed.

"I won't deny that. He likely did it to prevent Thor returning and squelching his efforts. But consider why he did it. Loki was... Mislead. He made the wrong choices. He tried to prove himself by vanquishing the Frost Giants, Laufey among them. And what did he have to go off of?" She laughed a single, sad laugh, "We're all raised to fear Jotuns! Slay them like the stupid beasts they are! Hunt them down, bludgeon them! What else would you expect him to do?"

By now a small crowd had gathered. Curious passersby all stared at the princess.

They probably think I'm mad, Sigyn mused, But I don't care. This isn't about me. It's about Loki.

"So he tried it. He tried massacring the Jotuns - and was foiled. Again. By Thor. Again! He was trying to prove himself! Desperately grasping at the final threads of hope! And on the Bifrost," Her breath caught in her throat, "On the Bifrost, that night, he begged Odin for approval. And how did Odin respond? He said no to his son, to the boy who only wanted to be as loved by his parents as his brother was." A tear streaked down her cheek.

"And he fell. He gave up. My husband died because his hope ran out. He could bear the pain no longer." Sigyn stepped toward the blonde, "So the next time you talk about Loki, I ask you to remember that. I hope you remember how my husband, the most wonderful, beautiful man I knew, lost hope that night. And now he's gone."

Without another word, Sigyn turned. Pushed past the crowd, ignoring their stares and whispers.

"Come, Villeildr," She mounted her horse, squeezing his sides with her legs, "It's time we take our leave."

~~~~

Later that night, Sigyn was in the library when a familiar voice called her.

"I thought you'd be here." Fandral stepped in, smirking, his cape sweeping behind him.

"Here I am." Sigyn's focus remained on the book.

"I heard you had a run-in with some acquaintances of mine today."

Sigyn stopped reading.

Fandral continued. "Gave them quite the talking to. Did you rehearse it, or did it simply come to you?"

She shut the book, peering up at him. "They were lying about Loki."

"You seem to forget he lied too.."

"Of course he did. We all do; that doesn't make it right. They were lying about him, Fandral, disrespecting the dead - spreading false rumors about how he 'always wanted the throne.'"

"Well, he was always jealous of Thor.."

She huffed, "I know."

They sat a moment in silence. Fandral moved closer. "I was hoping you would join me for a drink tonight. You’ve barely left the palace in.. Well, far too long."

"I don't drink."

He looked hurt. "You used to."

"There are many things I used to do." She returned to her book, hoping he’d get the hint.

"And I could help you with more than one, if you so wished..."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Remember that bit about respecting the dead?"

"Yes?"

"You're doing a horrid job."

He chuckled.

"Now, even I can't be the best at everything, dearest Sigyn."

"Oh, I believe it." She smirked.

His brow furrowed. "You were meant to be the goddess of compassion, you know."

"Compassion is like sympathy; I can sympathize with you and still point out the fact you're inappropriate."

"You sympathize with me?" He smirked.

"Fandral, do not twist my words.."

"Even if it makes you smile?" He tilted his head slightly. She couldn't resist a small huff of a laugh.

With a slight sigh, he took her hand and kissed it. "Ah, I may never be anything more than your friend, Sigyn," He lowered her hand, smiling at her. "But even if that's the case, I am honored to be your friend."

She smirked, nodding at him once. "Thank you. You're a good friend, Fandral.. Even if you are rude."

With another chuckle, he sprung to his feet. "Until we meet again, fair Sigyn," He bowed, "I take my leave." Turning on his heel, he headed for the door.

"Fandral?"

He stopped.

"Don't get too drunk. Lady Sif is tired of cleaning up after you."

He shot her a grin, then disappeared around the corner.

He's going to get absolutely ruined. Sigyn thought to herself, shaking her head.

[anika-ann]

WINSoD - Pt.2

We Move Together...

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 2400

Summary: In which Steve might get a bit tipsy and jealous in a sweet way. 

A/N: As adertised, What I’d Never Say or Do (Had I Been in My Right Mind) is only refered to as WINSoD. Also - enter Age of Ultron ;)

Warnings: mention of superntural creatures, alcohol, language, briefest mention of death, journalists acting like jerks 

Part 1 (previous chapter)

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

The press conference was a thing from nightmares. You did not enjoy all the flashes of cameras; you were not Tony freaking Stark, all charming and witty when over a hundred reporters stumbled through the doorway of the huge conference room. No, you could only manage to be sassy and fun within a circle of your friends. Which you found yourself in anyway, but boy, the presence of the others was still very much apparent and they were the ones asking questions.

Even Bruce had been forced to come, much to his dismay, but him and Clint were for some reason left out when it came to the poisonous questions, their duo considered only unwilling participants of the whole plotting for and against the poor soulmate pair of you and Steve.

You truly envied Thor who was off to Asgard once more. And while you wouldn’t want to be in Bucky’s shoes, you sure as hell wished you could sit this one out as he did, the public still not aware of his existence safe for one priest who had helped him to find his way to Steve.

It was ridiculous. The tone a question was asked with was enough to distinguish whether it was aimed at you and Steve or at someone else. Hell, when it came to you and Steve, they didn’t even bother asking, just stating the facts instead.

“Such a long recovery. That must have been horrible, especially with amnesia involved, wasn’t it.” (Yes, shockingly. What is it to you, huh?)

“Such luck you were able to remember, isn’t it.” (Luck had nothing to do with it. God’s sister has.)

“You must be angry with Captain’s team too, aren’t you.” (No, they are the best, you idiot, this whole thing is a stupid lie.)  

“I am sure you’re willing to share your story since people were grieving for you in such a worship-like way…” (…fuck you.)

In reality, you tried to word your indignation towards this herd-like aggressivity aimed at the Avengers and the blatant pity for you rather carefully, speaking of hardship but justified, and yes, you were very lucky indeed. They didn’t need to know just how much.

Steve received a pretty similar set of questions, but they were more of anger and questioning whether the team was still able to function after such a betrayal that nearly ended up tragically. Steve was surprisingly convincing in his act of a disappointed teammate and friend and expressed hope that they would be able to continue to exist and cooperate, his team slowly earning his trust back.

“Have the outcome had been different, my reaction would be too. But the love of my life is here with me and that is what matters. I cannot begin to say how lucky I am to have her back and I thank God for that every day.”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at the private joke and smiled at him instead, earning a whispering wave of ‘awww’ from the crowd and a blinding mess of camera flashes when you gathered the courage to lean in and kiss Steve’s cheek chastely. The reporters went absolutely nuts.

Tony and Natasha on the other hand had to face the stoning. Seriously, there were being personally attacked, questions dripping venom. But they clearly had more experience and knew how to answer without the cunning reporters being able to twist their words into something else, much to the vultures’ dislike and annoyance. Duo Stark-Romanoff fought back and very effectively.

It filled your chest with pride, having friends capable in so many ways. They were so freaking badass.

It made the whole experience more bearable; that and Steve’s hand always touching you, grounding you and reminding you that never ever he would let you face the wolves alone.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You all knew that a public apology and trying your best to deal with the press somehow wouldn’t be enough. Well, you had hoped it would, but hadn’t quite believed, expecting to have to more in near future.

You were right, of course, which was why you were currently dressed up (or dolled up, as Steve loved to say, because you were his doll, after all) and forcing yourself to leave the elevator once it would stop, with Steve by your side.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he coaxed, knuckles brushing your cheek tenderly, planting a soft kiss to your temple, too worried about smudging your lipstick despite Natasha’s earlier reassurance that it wouldn’t smudge under any circumstances as she had thoroughly tested.

You tried not to think about that kind of testing and clearly Steve felt the same.

Instead, you gazed into the cerulean blue with a drop of green of his eyes, not convinced. He was being sweet and all, which you appreciated, but in reality, he had no way of knowing it would be alright. Mostly because Tony went all the way and invited all the important people who could influence the public opinion as much as rising stars of whom he felt could influence the public in the near future.

So next to a senator and a group of big-shot businessmen, there would hang out a pair of lawyers sticking for the little guy and right next to a supermodel, there would be a girl starting a new food bank. Thinking about it, it was a funny parallel to Steve and you by his side, except you weren’t doing any good, unlike them. Not that you would say that out loud.

To be fair, the Avengers decided to spice thing up a little by revealing Bucky Barnes being alive, very slowly leaking his story of a brainwashed soldier. Funnily enough, in a shadow of your big reveal, his own went rather quietly.

People were so freakin’ weird.

“I guess I’m gonna survive…” you murmured, ignoring the icy shiver that ran up your spine at your choice of words. Steve’s gaze seemed to turn distant for a moment before coming back to you, some of the strength he had been trying to project into you disappearing in the wind because of the painful memory. “Sorry. That was-“

The emotion no doubt twisting his gut caused his inhibitions to fly out of the window and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. You melted against his muscular frame that seemed to engulf you completely, his calloused fingers grabbing onto your bare shoulders, digging in a bit deeper than necessary.

Your head was spinning with the passion displayed so openly and in the back of your mind, you registered that the elevator stopped, but before you could get to the idea of thanking Tony’s AI, your brain got side-tracked when Steve shamelessly licked into your mouth and backed you into the railing by the wall.

Feeling the familiar heat pool in your lower abdomen, sending sizzling heat through your veins, you instinctively gripped the lapels of his suit jacket when his lips retreated to give you a chance to breathe in.

Who needed breathing anyway?

He grinned against your mouth, the little shit he was, and one of his hands guided your head to a tilt for better access. You most definitely whimpered at that as his body trapped you against the wall completely, not leaving an inch in between.

Feeling him this close would never get old and you thought you might burst by the time his mouth moved to your left ear, keeping you in place while his hand moved from your shoulder to trace the line of your dress, slipping between the high slit of your dress to caress your thigh.

“Watch your mouth, doll. Or I’m gonna have to do exactly this to shut you up every time you don’t,” he whispered and your ragged breath caught in your throat when the perfect comeback popped in your head – a reasonable one, surprisingly enough.

“I bet the press would love that.”

His fingers flexed on your leg and his teeth very carefully nibbled on the skin of your neck, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Don’t care about the press,” he growled lowly, sighing as if in pain when he slowly pulled back, leaving you clutching the railing so you wouldn’t fall as your legs turned into an uncontrollable wobbly mass. Then, as if he wanted to ruin you completely before the night even started, his lips were graced by a soft smile, his eyes twinkling. “I care about you.”

“And you call me trouble…”

He had the nerve to wink at you and thank the AI for the stop he never explicitly asked for.

“My pleasure, Steve,” Jarvis hummed, sounding amused and self-satisfied.

Your soulmate gentlemanly offered you an elbow to lead you out of the cabin.

“Shall we, my lady?”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

In all honesty, the party wasn’t that bad, mostly because it wasn’t just to celebrate your resurrection, but also retrieving a sceptre Thor’s brother had used during The Battle of New York.

You wouldn’t go as far as saying you enjoyed the evening greatly, but you had met several interesting people of which only few had weird questions regarding you; however, weird questions when showing up in public was an everyday occurrence.

You finally truly understood why Steve was happy you treated him like an equal (most of the time anyway).

Every single original male Avenger and Sam and Bucky made sure to dance with you as well as with Natasha and for a good measure, when the song got the right beat, your favourite redhead dragged you to the dance floor for a friendly dance; needless to say Natasha was much better at spontaneous dancing than you. Steve assured you about the opposite by a kiss and a rather filthy promise as soon as you shared your thoughts on your lacking skills with him.

Actually--- yes, you might even say you enjoyed the party very much, uncharacteristically for you, considering the insane number of people attending. The penthouse was way too full, but here you were, sipping on your third glass of champagne, listening to Thor’s colourful narrating regarding Asgardian battles. It wasn’t that you were interested in battles, no – it was the man himself creating suspense and gesturing wildly and making the whole clutch of listeners breathless.

“Careful with the admiring, doll,” Steve whispered to your ear, his arm sneaking around your waist out of nowhere, nearly making you jump out of your skin. “I might get jealous.”

Giddy from the alcohol, you turned your head and brushed his lips with yours.

“We did establish I’d marry Thor if you weren’t an option, didn’t we?” you teased lowly, catching the wink Thor sent your direction as if he heard you despite your hushed voice. It wasn’t flirtation; no, it felt more like mischief, as if he was being your wingman, which he excelled at apparently, because Steve might get little possessive if the grunt by your ear was anything to go by. “As if you didn’t know I only have eyes for you.”

“Just eyes?”

“Why, Captain, are you implying something?”

“Maybe.”

“Of course, my heart is yours as well,” you smirked at him, making his somehow annoyed and pleased at the same time. You leaned even closer. “And everything else.”

“Alright, but what about that hammer of yours? I mean, I saw people swinging around Captain’s shield – though not as skilfully – but no one uses your weapon. Why? Is it that heavy? Are you the only one strong enough to… keep it up?” one of the women asked, apparently more than a little tipsy, judging by her implication.

Gee, she had no inhibitions. Were you being like this now? You really hoped not…

“Well, my lady, that is a very complicated matter…” Thor started, clearly pleased by that question.

“Dance with me again,” sounded softly at your ear and your lips automatically curled up in a smile.

“Whatever makes you happy, my love.”

Steve grinned as he swiftly got rid of the glass in your hand and was already pulling you away by the time you noticed the envious or the amused stares of your companions.

“Green’s not a good colour on you, Steve,” you hummed incidentally, earning an actual pout. “This is adorable though. And I’m not gonna complain about you getting a bit handsy more often.”

“Trouble, doll.”

“I love you too.”

“I do love you. I’m sorry if I got annoying. It’s just… ugh. Thor. You got this look in your eyes and I just-”

Oh.

You sometimes forgot Steve could be as self-conscious as you were. It made your heart ache and yet grow with fondness for your soulmate.

“No, Steve. I might get starry-eyed, because of course I do admire him. It’s easy to get captivated by his stories or his manners, just look at the crowd around him. But you… there’s something about you… that strikes me right here.” You tapped over your heart pointedly. “You know me through and through and yet here you are. You must know I’m yours and still – you treat me every day like you’re courting me and at the same time, we’re comfortable with each other and--- yeah, that. Thor is great. But you’re everything. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” he confirmed, brilliant eyes shining, the drops of Asgardian liquor he had consumed adding to the glow. “And you’re mine.”

“Meant to be…” you cooed, happily giving in to his lips when they found yours again for a short moment. You barely realized you stopped in your steps as the slow song had made you only sway. You whispered into his lips then, unbothered. “Plus, I bet you could lift that hammer and keep it up too if you tried.”

His rich laughter filled your ears and he spun you both in circle, planting a kiss on your forehead. You already planned on how you’d get him a custom-made mug with a little hammer on it, reading ‘I am worthy’ or something like that. You were sure he’d love it.

Yeah, it was an amazing party.

Here was a funny thing though; when you had already been confronted with the fact angels and God existed, you should have known blasphemy was a thing.

So, naturally, as you had said ‘I guess I’m gonna survive…’, you should have known there would be a thick chance that you wouldn’t.

That was the first thing that flew through your mind the moment something burst through a wall as if it was made paper thin and not metal.

The second thought? Oh shit.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 3

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading! 

Like I said, chapters of this fic will be less chronologically tight. Buuut, you’ll see ;) Also, sorry it took me so long.

[kae-karo]

"how will you survive" and kaeya!

i am so sorry this prompted SO much angst asdkljsdjklfjkls (send me one of these prompts and a genshin character!)

--

hands of fate - T - 2k

tags: zhongli & kaeya enemies to allies, introspection, mentions of killing but nobody dies, lots of guilt, lil bit of tartali mention

[read on ao3]

--

In all his time on Teyvat since that dark night, Zhongli has not encountered a descendant of Khaenri’ah. Perhaps fate skewed heavily in his favor, or perhaps fate is not so kind a force to give him that reprieve when it intends only to return for him, to bring him to his knees.

He wishes - and perhaps it is a naive, belated thing to wish - that he had ventured a little farther from the borders of Liyue before today. That he had happened upon the famed winery some ten or so years ago, that he’d encountered the child of Khaenri’ah that stands before him now.

That bares his teeth in a smirk that does not feel lighthearted. And could not be, he chides himself - a child of Khaenri’ah, one that grew up in its festering remains, that was taught the truth about the archons. A child steeped in resentment - how could he be anything but burdened?

Zhongli cannot blame him.

“You were there,” he says, too casual. Kaeya, a Khaenri’ahn name. Zhongli dips his head.

“I was.”

“And you did nothing.” Not a question.

“I was bound by my gnosis.” An excuse. Behind his eyes, Khaenri’ah burns, a destruction wrought upon thousands of innocent people for the act of few, and still an act that did not warrant such merciless slaughter. Zhongli does not deserve excuses.

“You chose your path,” Kaeya says, as cool as the ice he’s used to freeze Zhongli here, on his knees. He could break free, of course. Kaeya does not hold the same power that he does - but is it fair of him to deny fate? To deny Kaeya what he so very righteously deserves?

Perhaps his contract was never with the Tsaritsa. Never something so small, so minute in the face of the hands of fate. Perhaps his contract has always been far larger than that, far more sinister. Far more binding than a gnosis, than the promise of the powers of Celestia at his fingertips.

Cool metal tips Zhongli’s chin up, and he lifts his gaze to meet Kaeya’s - one blue eye, one black, entirely corrupted by the Abyss that has long since consumed Khaenri’ah. Would he be anything different, if Zhongli had found him? How many times can he shift the hands of fate to his bidding, to his selfish desires?

Never enough, he knows. They will always find a way back to him.

“I should kill you for what you did.” He sounds bored as he speaks, and Zhongli wants to know, rather suddenly: is his emotionless tone borne from years of coping with that anger, that hatred for the gods who abandoned him? Or is it borne of something deeper, something far more sinister?

Would it matter, in the end? If there was a time that Zhongli might’ve stepped outside Liyue’s borders, that he might’ve happened upon Kaeya living in Mondstadt, could he have changed this outcome?

Would he have? It is not in his nature to involve himself heavily, even in Liyue. To do so in another archon’s territory would have certainly been a breach of well-established boundaries.

“I would not begrudge you that decision,” Zhongli says carefully, and holds Kaeya’s stare. Feels again the press of cool metal under his chin. It’s grown warmer over time, as the ice holding him captive begins to creep under his skin.

Kaeya huffs out a breath, lowers his sword.

“You’re certainly taking all the fun out of this,” he grumbles, more to himself than to Zhongli, and Zhongli tips his head. Thinks of Childe, and lets that spark warm his chest for a moment. Hopes a distant hope that Childe is safe, that he is not in danger at the moment. Or, rather, that he is in a danger he can handle, for Zhongli would never dare to underestimate him.

“I apologize.”

“Why?” A scoff, and Kaeya tips his head in Zhongli’s direction. “It’s far too late for an apology to make much of a difference. Won’t bring anyone back.”

“I am aware.” What he does not say: I watched thousands die at the hands of angry gods. Thousands of your people, and I stood aside and did nothing to stop it. Did not even fight the control that held me still, though it could not force me to partake in the slaughter.

Kaeya huffs out an irritated breath, and Zhongli inhales as much as the rigid ice will allow. He is no stranger to death, though he’s gone quite a while without its presence hovering nearby. And yet, he cannot blame Kaeya for this anger, for this hatred. How to mourn a culture torn from Teyvat before he’d even been born? How to grieve for thousands dead when he had not been there to see their slaughter?

Perhaps it was inevitable, the hands of fate guiding them to this moment. For Zhongli can grieve, can mourn in a way that Kaeya cannot, and Kaeya in a way that Zhongli cannot. Fate that drew them together, so that their sorrow might mean something more.

“I expected an eons-old god to beg for his life,” Kaeya adds aloud, but quieter. Less of this show he’s been putting on, and Zhongli sees the pain beneath the surface - the true pain, the kind of hurt he’s borne through his life, not the distant kind for people he never knew himself.

What a lonely existence, to be the last of one’s kind. To be set so thoroughly apart from all others, what a burden to bear. To find no home, to feel out of place even in the home built for oneself. Zhongli does not want to take away from the right that Kaeya has to experience his pain, but a part of Zhongli’s heart goes out, calls out for him to say that he understands.

That he feels the same, in so very many ways.

“I have lived a very long time, but I do not think the world would stop turning if I no longer walked Teyvat.” He chooses his words carefully, and does not think of broken contracts sworn to those he holds dearest.

I will see you again. A promise to Childe sworn in shared breaths under warm covers.

I will always protect you. Another, to Xiao, dear Xiao, his ever-vigilant yaksha.

It pains Zhongli to think that they might suffer for his absence, that they might grieve. The world may not cease its turning, but the ache in his heart for their sadness…

But they are not alone any longer - Zhongli has watched them find others to depend upon, others to share in their sorrows should something irreversible happen tonight. And he has been afforded an opportunity he might not otherwise see: to give Kaeya some peace, to bring a kind of amends to the very last of Khaenri’ah. It is not the worst way to leave the world behind.

“Well, that dulls the revenge aspect of this quite a bit, doesn’t it,” Kaeya says, quiet and- and rather lackluster, for all his earlier enthusiasm. Pain flickers through his features with each movement, cracks in the glacial ice of his expression, and Zhongli exhales slowly.

“You watched the destruction of an entire civilization,” Kaeya hisses under his breath, low and forceful, and Zhongli dips his head. Wonders at this repetition - is it for Zhongli, now, or for himself? Which of them does he wish to remind of the atrocities that Zhongli was complicit in?

“And there is nothing I will ever be able to do to atone for the pain I enabled.” He lets his eyes drift shut, sees the ruins of Khaenri’ah, hears the screams and wails and feels the tears that’d fallen unbidden from his eyes even as he stood utterly still, even as he did not fight to protect the innocent.

So very long...for so very long, Zhongli fought through the Archon war for a promised peace. Perhaps some might’ve called him soft for how his heart ached in those horrible, horrible hours of Khaenri’ah’s massacre. Perhaps he is not the rigid, unfeeling stone he once was.

His eyes flick open at the clattering of metal on wood, surprised to find Kaeya’s hand limp at his side, his sword at his feet. Surprised more to feel the drip of water against his skin, the gradual loosening of the ice’s hold on his body.

It melts away around him, and the weight of his body returns without the ice supporting it. The weight of his heart drags him further, though, and he slumps, bows over with the ache of it in his chest. His hands press into the wood, unfeeling for the ice that’d encased them. He sees blood that is not there, blood of thousands upon thousands, and does not feel the sick warmth of it.

“You can help.”

Kaeya’s voice is quiet, broken. Zhongli knows without asking what his words truly mean, what he requests of Zhongli.

“I am nothing in the face of Celestia,” he says quickly - not out of fear, but out of warning. He will not be the asset that Kaeya hopes him to be. “But if it will bring you peace-”

“It won’t.” Kaeya’s back remains turned, but his words cut through as sharply as his sword. When he finally faces Zhongli again, a bitter smile touches his lips. “But I have no one else left, and I would rather not die alone.”

Ah, a feeling that Zhongli knows well. And yet, he considers with a strange spark of amusement, he has not yet come face to face with his final end.

Inside his head, Childe grins at him. Demands another fight, for he is ever the insatiable warrior. Xiao dips his head to Zhongli, but never so low as that first time. When he lifts it, a smile touches the corner of his lips. Something like hope glows in Zhongli’s chest - if fate demands his life, he will fight it tooth and nail. Force it to give him one more chance to see those he loves so dearly.

“I owe you and your people far more than my life could repay-” This he knows with grave certainty. “But,” he adds as he stands - on shaking legs, with frozen limbs - “I have made promises I cannot break, and so I will fight with you against Celestia itself.”

Kaeya’s brows furrow minutely.

“You made me no such promise.” His tone speaks of caution, and Zhongli cannot blame him. He wonders, too, if Kaeya wishes to reach for his sword.

But he remains still, and Zhongli’s lip ticks up at the corner as he exhales a short breath - on another day, in another life, it might be amusement that sparks his reaction, but now, it is only a desperate kind of hope.

“No, but I promised others that I would return,” Kaeya’s brows lift, “and return I must, for what is a god of contracts if he cannot keep his word?”

“That’s rather bold, when you couldn’t manage to stand up to Celestia the last time,” Kaeya says with a quirked brow, now, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “What was it you just said? That you’re nothing in the face of Celestia?”

A bitter, stinging sort of dread worms its way through Zhongli’s chest. A fear he hasn’t felt in many years, fear that he might not escape this battle alive. Fear that he will leave Childe and Xiao behind with no warning. That he will break their hearts.

“How will you survive?” Kaeya asks, but his voice is not so harsh this time. His gaze looks distant, too, and Zhongli wonders if he is not as alone as he claims.

“I will do whatever it takes, as I presume you will.” He will rely on every tactic he has left untouched for eons, will fight bitterly and without remorse. Will be selfish for the sake of others - for Kaeya, for Khaenri’ah, and for Childe and Xiao. For his own heart, and for theirs.

Kaeya’s eyes narrow at him, and Zhongli holds his stare.

“Very well, god of contracts.” Kaeya extends a hand, and Zhongli reaches out in turn. Finds Kaeya’s palm warm in spite of the ice that he wields. “I believe we have a deal.”