#❛ ┈ stop haunting me ( ... ) stop dying in my arms so helplessly ( ... ) stop going where i can’t / fucking follow. ( hlycrwn )

[ask-princessandromeda]

I was born at dawn, a warm golden light bathing the temple of Apollo. His arms enveloped me, eyes gleaming with tenderness, my father, the god of prophecy and light, assured of my radiant future. The Muses, Clio, Melpomene, and Calliope, whispered their gentle blessings over me, cooing in delight at my arrival. Now, I'm dying at sunset, the once golden rays replaced by a cold and gloomy twilight. I'm alone, abandoned in the cold, majestic room of the Kronos Palace on Mount Othrys. My father, once full of love for me, has vanished, leaving me to face the cruel hand of fate alone. A fatal blow to the stomach, a poisoned dagger of imperial gold, I knew it would end this way, yet the pain is excruciating. I pull out the blade, blood pooling on the cold stone floor. This is a cruel fate for Apollo's child. My killer is a mere boy, a Roman soldier born of my father's own lineage. I feel a pang of pity for him as I see the fear in his eyes, poor boy, he couldn't have been more than thirteen and the first person he killed was essentially a defenseless girl who, moreover, was crystal clear to be Apollo's child, his distant but relative, the Romans appreciate any family ties, he must feel terribly bad... With my final breath, I try to utter words of forgiveness for my father, knowing that my death will be a festering wound in his heart. I was a prophetess, a bearer of truth, but now my voice is silenced, leaving only the haunting echoes of my pain in this cold and desolate palace.

[She looks at nothing with empty cold eyes, her voice sounds distant] a few additional details of my death - Kronos, get ready to fall with laughter, tried to protect me, I was valuable with my abilities and he thought that I would be safe in his halls... My king, you made a mistake, the green boy with the dagger was found for me after all, and... It's really terrible to see.

Luke: *shifting his weight* So this is how the gods treat us, after everything we’ve done for them.

Luke: *trying to control his voice* This is how they treat you. They trick you with empty affection, so-called blessings, and then they abandon you. They only like you when you’re a freshly polished weapon, ready to bend at their will, and then throw you away. Like a used toy. *clenching his fists* IT’S SUCH A WORTLESS CHARADE, AND I’M SICK OF IT TO THE GUTS! YOU DESERVE BETTER, WE DESERVE BETTER, WE ALL DO…

Luke: *sitting down* …It’s not fair.

Ethan: Nothing is really fair. Not for us.

*Luke glares at Ethan, but Ethan has his eye fixed on Kore.*

Ethan: This is a worthless reassurance to you, it’ll probably make you feel even worse, but just so what’s to say is said… I’ll end up the same. I keep having these strange feelings intruding my dreams, like I’m constantly on the brink of falling. I’m not sure where or what, but there’s always something waiting to swallow me whole. It’s just my fate, I guess, and it’ll happen no matter what I do… We were both born to die, Kore. There’s no escape. And yes, I hate it I hate I hate it. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Only hope that our pathetic little lives and deaths will matter in the end.

Alabaster: They will! They will! Your lives do matter! They have to…

Alabaster: *looks around helplessly. His gaze stops on Kore.*

Alabaster: I’m so sorry, Kore. I… have to help somehow. But if not even Kronos can help you… No, no, I have to try. I’ll make sure there are guards at Othrys in the moment of the assault. I’ll assure you a place to hide. It shouldn’t be that hard protecting you from a mere child, I’m sure there are ways to redirect his attack. And make sure you wear armor at all times! Kore, Kore… Please be safe. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while you tell us about how your death will go. I have to do something about it. I can’t lose you to the knife of a little kid, Kore.

Ethan: *He decides not to speak for a few moments. He places his hand on Alabaster’s shoulder.*

Ethan: Yeah… I’ll try to help you. Tell me what I have to do. I can’t die knowing that I didn’t make a effort to save my friend.

[knightsdeath]

31

fraldarius ( which is to say : the duchy proper as the far east coast of faerghus ) is approximately five and half days of travel by horse drawn carriage from fhridiad ———— a fact committed to memory in the early days of his youth and tucked within his heart, meant to never be forgotten. never to be forgotten, so well embedded into his mind that try as he may he can never rid himself of that slip of information.

information gleaned and gathered in the carriage with his father with his mother with his brother in varying configurations thereof. on that velvet bench that he had perched himself on the edge of, frenetic and overwhelmed and overwhelming as he peeked out of the windows far too frequently in vain hope of seeing the outskirts of the capital proper. and how he had chipped away at the patience of his beloved brother and his adored mother and his ephemeral father and how he had whined and whinged and pouted with each of their stops !! insisting that they hardly need to rest nor stretch nor allow the horses to eat, after all. ( and at the tender age of eight when he had finally learned how to ride a horse independently he had boldly requested to take a horse from the carriage so that he could rush and run and fly all that distance and all that way on his own, lighter by far without the weight of the carriage and this crowd and their luggage / and his mother had sighed and patted his head and denied him. and denied him. and denied him. )

fraldarius ( which is to say : well, you know this part already, don’t you? ) is approximately two almost three days of travel by horseback with a light pack and the size of his body alone from fhridiad ———— a fact committed to memory mere hours ago when he had ridden from his childhood home and standing over the rotting remains of those he loved / those he loves, an echo of that childhood yearning to fly to his side. to dimitri’s side.

is this yearning? no. it can’t be. not by far. yearning carries the connotation and ideation of something soft and gentle and lavender-tinted / rose-tinted. of something utterly saccharine, the mere thought thereof like sugar bursting across the tongue. something fragile. something a breath away from mourning.

no. no. nothing quiet so delicate as yearning. there is something far too sharp and far too hard and far too vivid ————

but it’s ( … ) something. he’s not quite so idiotic not to acknowledge as much.

in their mutual glances and in their lingering near each other and in their glancing touches steadily becoming more frequent and HOW STRANGE IT IS TO RELEARN EACH OTHER WHOLLY ANEW / NOT AT ALL AS THEY WERE BEFORE / IN THIS PLACE THAT THEY KNOW SO WELL / sitting in the king’s quarters within these haunted halls that aren’t haunted at all but carry with them the imprints of memory and this room and this place and this man and they are lifetimes removed. lives removed. each buried so very long ago but here they sit, alive still. breathing still. close ———— growing close. the fragmented process of relearning one another, truly.

time has stretched and their conversation ( begun as felix was shaking the vestiges of the dead from his shoulders where they had clung, so wanting, even after he had truly all but flown away from that place and that time and that weeping well of sorrow / but is there any way to leave it, truly, when it lives within you? ) winds itself steadily and unerringly to talk of military and politics and useless drivel for which he had reached into the ashen and dusty recesses of his mind and brought that knowledge to light once more / not nearly so forgotten as he preferred to pretend. HE IS NOT THE DUKE OF FRALDARIUS but that is what the people call him and is that what matters, in the end?

silence reigns and embers remain of the fire that smolders and glows and casts its light still on his face and his body and the fall of his light hair and ———— there is a half empty glass of wine sits at the small table beside and neither are quite softened nor loosened by alcohol nor warmth nor their company / but as close to, perhaps. lingering nearby COMPLACENCY with their knees nearly brushing and is this intimacy?

don’t call it that. don’t call it that.

he watches the embers and / dimitri watches him and / he watches the fucking savior king in his periphery and / the beast king gazes at him so steadily and it’s ( … ) something.

there’s a shift in his periphery and, as if in response, there’s a tightening of his skin and a shuddering of his bones and a shift of something / into place ———— or out of place? somewhere. some—when. something. he knows. he knows. he fucking knows.

there are few who know the king of faerghus even half so well as felix hugo fraldarius, after all. even now. even so far removed. even after the boy was eaten by the beast. even after the monster lived alone in that shell. even after the man and the monster live as one, now. there is the instinctive knowledge of a person : everlasting.

❝ ———— felix, ❞ name spoken like a prayer / but neither of them are holy men / but neither of them are devout men. and his head turns automatically to meet his eye and the scar tissue of what remains of the other ( patch discarded beside the glass that is a twin to his own, half-drunk as well, mirror images ) and it occurs to him, disjointed, that they should restart the fire / lest they wish to give into the coming of winter and the promise of snow on the wind and the chilling of the air and the hardening of the ground.

their knees bump as dimitri draws closer, ❝ what? ❞ irritable and irritated and far more irate than he had been through the whole of their conversation and the conversation before that and the conversation before that and something hovers so perilously on a blade’s edge : rotting. and he, too, finds himself ON EDGE, in return.

a hand brushes against his jaw so gentle and light and testing and testing and testing and he moves from it / a denial / mouth twitching / looking into that eye that gaze that face that he once knew so well. that he knows so well, now. older and scarred and not quite the same : shadowed and changed by time and terror and tragedy after tragedy after tragedy. felix finds himself wary and weary and worn / from this and life and the aches of battle and the weight of grief and the whole of it and the whole of dimitri and the whole of them.

is there a them? ————— well : isn’t that what this something is?

( here’s a hint : yes. )

dimitri looks at him and therein lies something intent and intense and practically exasperated, the lift of his brows and the slight tilt of his head and the faint downturn of his lips. ❝ felix, ❞ spoken so tenderly / tender like a bruise / and oh, how it smarts. ❝ i wouldn’t normally dare to presume, but you must know. surely you must know ——— you know me better than any other. as i know you. ❞ that touch, again. along his jaw. gentle but not quite so light and. and.

that’s the crux of it, after all. there is no one who knows dimitri so well as he. there is no one who knows felix so well as dimitri. they know. they know. they know ( … ) of this something that lingers between them / a creeping rot.

but it’s not rot at all, is it?

and he draws nearer and felix thinks of that time he had tried to count all of dimitri’s eyelashes and had laughed helplessly partway through and never truly got his answer and their noses nearly touch. ❝ it’s selfish of me, but i tire of this dance we do around one another, ❞ dimitri speaks once more and it’s ————

❝ shut up, ❞ a mere whisper of words / not quite fragmented and not quite whole and dimitri’s hands are warm. they’re warm. they’re warm against the frostbitten expanse of his skin and the frigid expanse of his chest and there’s his heart and there’s the damn king on high and there’s something. their noses brush.

when they kiss there’s the curve of where neck meets shoulder along his calloused palm and a hand at the back of his neck and it’s ———— a revelation. and his bones : unraveling beneath dimitri’s touch / as dimitri begins to come apart beneath his own.

@hlycrwn // don’t make me say it , don’t make me say it , don’t make me say that i lo [ don’t make me say it ] you. —— touch ( after a small rejection )

[nanasparadise]

Can you do (aged up of course), Yandere Narancia x reader. [p.s can it include any of these prompts? “ Stop denying our love! Stop denying our future together!! ”, “ Please don’t cry. Show me the smile I love so much! ”, “ You can’t escape my love.”,” You will grow to love me back, I just know it!“] Thx so much <3

“You can’t escape my love”

“You will grow back to love me, I just know it.”

Hiya anon! I hope you enjoy it! <3 

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and keeps harassing you, until he stands in front of your apartment’s door...

TW: cyber harassment, implied stalking, gaslighting, mentions of a panic attack, toxic relationship, noncon touching, curse words, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Narancia has been aged up, no minor content on my blog!

Word count: 2155

“No escape” Yan! Narancia x gender-neutral reader 

 Bling. Another one of… how many messages again? You have stopped counting a while ago. An exasperated sigh escapes your lips, wondering why you haven’t turned off the volume yet. Why is he so unrelenting? Annoyed, you take your phone in your hand, staring at the twenty-five texts Narancia has left for you. At first, they have started off innocently, asking you about your well-being and your day. But as time has passed, the messages have begun becoming more invasive and have ended up being straight-up creepy. 

“Why aren’t you answering me, did I do something wrong?” 

“Stop being so stubborn, I know you want to be with me, too!” 

“I’m always near you, you’re aware of that, right? You can’t escape my love.”

 An icy shudder travels down your spine while reading the last two sentences. Fear clenches around your heart, making your chest feel heavy, your breaths short and laboured. 

“’’Try out this dating app!’ they said, ‘It will be fun!’ I see where this fun has lead me to”, you think gloomily. Why on earth did you ever sign up to that damned app and had to match with Narancia? You curse yourself, curse your naivety for having expected to encounter there a nice and healthy relationship.

The only thing that has waited for you is an obsessive stalker you can’t get rid of. Of course you didn’t realise Narancia’s disturbing nature at the beginning. No, you thought of him as sweet and energetic, although a bit tiring. Your first dates were pleasant: you went to a fair, sharing candyfloss and laughter between you, to a restaurant, where the Italian nearly choked on his pasta out of excitement, to a spring picnic at the local park, bathing in the gentle sunlight. It all seemed so beautiful to you back then, so innocent. But quickly, things have changed. 

Narancia has become increasingly clingy to you until it started feeling as if he was glued onto your hip. Oh, you want to go grocery shopping? He’ll come with you and help you carry your bags! You’re planning on visiting your family on the weekend? He’ll join you, he has been dying to meet them anyway! 

Setting boundaries with him was extremely challenging. Every time you hinted that you’d rather like to spend some time alone, he nearly threw a fit, taking your words out of context and twisting them around. 

“So you want to toss me away? You don’t think I’m important to you?”, he shouted at you, tears of anger forming in his eyes. Back then, you didn’t notice his gaslighting methods, felt guilty for prioritising yourself. But now, you don’t want to hold yourself back anymore. There isn’t any reason for you to justify yourself, especially not to someone who clearly has no right to intervene in your life like this. Your gaze travels back to your phone. All these messages, these implications, are proof enough of his unhealthy attachment to you. Hell, he even admitted following you! No matter how much you enjoyed your time together, you can’t let Narancia continue with his creepy behaviour.

Quickly, you type a text, telling the Italian that if he goes on invading your privacy, you’ll block him. For a few minutes, sweet silence dominates your living room. 

“Maybe he finally got it”, you muse hopefully. 

Bling. There goes your hope. 

“Are you messing with me? Why would you write that?! Please, stop with these jokes, we can talk about this!” Another sigh comes out of your mouth. 

“No Narancia, we actually can’t. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell the whole time, but it seems you don’t understand. I’m sorry, but I’m gonna block you for now, otherwise I’ll go insane.” 

With these final words, you block his number. Relief washes over you as you realise that the Italian can’t harass you anymore. 

“It‘s kind of sad how things have turned out”, you mumble to yourself. Though you do feel some regret – after all, the two of you had shared many beautiful moments together – you abruptly stop your pondering. “No use to cry over spoiled milk, Y/N. If he keeps treating you like this, it’s best to get away from him.”

Little did you know that Narancia isn’t letting you go that easily. The following days, he kept reaching out to you towards multiple phone numbers. Every time you blocked it, a new one popped up. At this point, you’ve simply stopped using your phone altogether, only relying on the device if it’s inevitable. In those cases, you’re helplessly exposed to the unnerving messages of the young man. The latest one keeps haunting your mind, initiating your anxiety. 

“I’ve been really patient with you, Y/N, but this little game is making me lose my temper. I’ll be seeing you tonight and then we settle things straight. You will grow back to love me, we’ll make up again, I just know it.” 

Nervously, you eye the nearest clock in your flat. 8 p.m. What does Narancia consider ‘tonight’? Will he even come? Are you able to face him right now? 

“Oh god, I need to go”, you whisper desperately, nausea manifesting itself in your stomach. You could crash at your friend’s place, you’re sure they’d understand your situation. Quickly, you gather all your important belongings, ready to flee, as a loud knocking on your front door followed by an all too familiar voice interrupts your escape. 

“Hey Y/N, could you open the door for me, please?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You mutter an incoherent string of curses. Petrified, you just keep staring at the door, not daring move a single muscle in your body. 

“If you don’t open the door yourself, I’ll just break it in, you know?”, Narancia shouts on the other side. The casualness of his tone scares you even more. 

“How can he just be so blasé by his behaviour? Doesn’t he notice how wrong his actions are?” Actually fearing the Italian might damage your property, you accept your defeat and slowly walk up to the front door. Hesitantly, with shaking hands, you unlock it and pull the handle down. Nervousness creeps up on you, making your palms grow sweaty and your heart palpitating erratically. Soon – too soon for your liking – you meet a pair of familiar purple eyes. To your surprise, Narancia smiles upon seeing your face. 

“Hi babe,” he greets you, carefree, “I’m so glad you opened the door for me! You have no clue how much I’ve missed you!” Without even waiting for you to invite him in – which you definitely wouldn’t have done – the young man marches into your flat, invading your privacy even further. Suddenly, two arms wrap around your middle and pull you close to the young man’s chest. Your breathing falters at the abrupt touch. “It’s alright, it’s only me, Y/N”, Narancia tries to comfort you. If only he knew that his presence currently gives you anything but comfort…

A few moments later, you find yourself sitting on your couch next to him. Narancia flashes you a seemingly reassuring grin all while you keep fiddling with the sleeves your shirt. You blankly stare at the floor in front of you. Even though Narancia’s behaviour is conveying sympathy, you couldn’t get rid of the intuitive feeling that this is all but a façade to lull you into a false sense of security. Who knows what he could do to you? Despite his overall sweet and fun nature, the young man doesn’t shy away from using violence if you test his – admittedly little – patience. His numerous messages flash up in your mind again. You’re painfully aware now how he made it clear that you’ve clearly missed your opportunities of being in his good graces. This realisation pushes you nearly over the edge, being on the brink of a panic attack. Would Narancia really hurt you? 

“Look Y/N,” the sound of his voice interrupts your train of thought. A little startled, you immediately straighten your back and glance at his form next to you. The young man’s hand finds its way to yours, stopping your fumbling by securely grasping it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but what’s wrong? Why did you just ignore me like that?”, Narancia asks you. You don’t miss the hint of annoyance in his voice, indicating his true feelings. Though anxiety still has a hold on you, you try your best to fight against it and tell him the truth. After all, it’s not like you could escape this situation anyway. So you take a deep breath in and out again, before you spill your following words. 

“Well, I know you’re more of a clingy person Narancia, but what you’re doing is unhealthy. You can’t expect me to give you my full attention all the time. And you definitely can’t follow me around! It’s just creepy and wrong. You know that’s considered stalking, right?”

The Italian stares back at you incredulously. You wonder what’s going on in his head right now. 

“You gave me no other choice, Y/N! How am I supposed to see if you’re doing alright if you deny me like this? You really think me worrying about you makes me some deranged criminal?”, Narancia barks angrily back at you. The grip on your hand tightens. Listening to your previous gut feeling, you immediately retrieve your hand from his all while scooting away from him to gain more space between you. The dark-haired man’s jaw visibly clenches at your action, disapproval glistening in his eyes. Of course he would use his gaslighting tactics on you, he always does when things don’t go his way. Cautiously, you think for a while of what to say, not wanting to trigger Narancia’s wrath any further. 

“It’s not the fact you worry about me, it’s the way you choose to show your concern. Narancia, it’s not okay what you’re doing, you’re actually making me feel very uncomfortable, even right now. Plus, you’re blaming me for your behaviour, which is, again, not acceptable”, You carefully reply, hoping to talk some sense into him.

He makes you uncomfortable? Narancia can’t comprehend your words at all. He’d been worrying himself sick the last few days, trying to reach out to you as best as possible while you cruelly kept on ignoring his countless messages. But he is supposed to be the bad guy now? The Italian scoffs intensely at that thought. He can feel the anger gnawing at his guts, ready to be released. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N,” Narancia reprimands you, “can’t I show you anymore that I care? That I love you? Even after you’ve blocked and ignored me? What do you expect me to do now, to just let you go?” 

“Actually, I do,” you peep quietly, “I can’t continue with this madness. If you don’t want to understand and listen to me, then it’s best for you to go. Now.” Your voice grows stronger with every word you utter, finally regaining your confidence. Meanwhile, Narancia’s heart sinks to his stomach at your statement. Do you really want to leave him? 

“No, no no no Y/N, you don’t mean this, right? You wanna stay with me, don’t you?” 

“No, I really don’t think I do, not after you’ve shown me your true colours.” 

With a force you don’t expect, Narancia pulls you suddenly against his chest again. His arms cage you in, leaving no room for you to move at all. 

“This is just a misunderstanding,” the young man keeps repeating like a mantra while tightening his grasp as if you could dissipate into thin air if he didn’t cling onto you, “It’s normal for couples to fight from time to time, it’s fine. We’re fine, right? You wouldn’t abandon me for real, would you?” 

“Narancia, I –“ you try to intervene, but your attempts remain futile as he cuts you off quickly. 

“No, you’re not going to leave me! I’m not letting you. Look, this is but a silly fight, you’re not going to toss away our relationship for that, are you? Just remember all the beautiful moments we shared together, how happy I can make you, if you just let me!” Narancia nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you, Y/N.” He eagerly plants kisses onto your skin, making you shudder and whimper helplessly. Your eyes grow bigger, your breath quickens as you desperately look for a way to escape this situation, to escape him. 

“I love you more than anything in this world. I’d gladly give up everything if it meant to spend every second with you by my side. No one can love you like this but me. Remember that next time you’re thinking I’m going to let you off the hook”, Narancia whispers in your ear, the underlying threat being crystal clear to you. No, you aren’t going to escape from him any time soon…

[shirtlesssammy]

3x06: Red Sky at Morning

Then:

Sam wasted a bullet on brodepency

Now:

A woman jogs along a lonely marina at night. She stops for a drink of water and sees an old timey ship flicker into existence and then disappear. It’s a little weird so she runs home. 

While taking a slightly male-gaze shower, a shadow lurks in the background. A hand then appears on the outside of the shower. She pops her head out to look around her HUGE bathroom only to find nothing. Too late! The noise was coming from inside the shower stall. She’s attacked and strangled. 

Sam and Dean are on the road. Sam’s getting a lecture from his big bro about using the Colt on the crossroads demon. It didn’t get Dean out of the deal, but Sam had to try. 

And jumping right into the case without exposition or anything, we find the brothers interviewing the aunt of the victim, Sheila. She’s 100% pervy towards Sam, but HAHAHA, amirite? She found her drowned in her own shower. She asks if they’re “working with Alex?” And Dean agrees right away. The aunt also mentions the mysterious boat (did Sheila call her aunt on her run home? When did she have time to do this?) “Do you think it could be a… ghost ship?” 

Yes. Yes, it is. 

She then touches Sam unnecessarily and GURR. 

Later, Sam and Dean discuss the case and the fact that ghost ships have been seen in this town every 37 years --and with it dryland drownings. 

So they’ve got to find what boat appears to people before they die. 

They head back to where the Impala was parked, to not find it where they left it. Dean freaks out and has a panic attack. UGH. I have that feeling when I forget what lane I parked in at Target so BBY DEAN I HEAR YOU AND SEE YOU. 

Bella appears and tells them she had it towed. So kind. Sam guesses right away that she’s the “Alex” that the aunt mentioned. She tells them to back off, and wanders away. 

A dude, getting ready for bed, finds his tub filling with gross, green water. He turns off the faucet and stares into the black water for a second before a hand reaches out of the depths and strangles him. 

Later, we find Bella interviewing the brother of the deceased. Sam and Dean interrupt and tell her to stop bothering the grieving man. They ask about the ship his brother saw, and the man describes it and admits that he saw it too. 

Bella shows up again to further antagonize the brothers. 

Later that night, the brothers watch the grieving brother box up his brother’s stuff. And I haven’t watched this episode enough to see the parallels before, but there they are! The guy sees them watching him and gets upset, realizing they’re not cops. He insults Dean’s car and tells them to stay away from him. He tries driving away but then his car dies. A drowned rat of a ghost shows up in his car. Before Sam and Dean (and their shotguns) can get there, the guy drowns. 

Later, while driving, Dean tells Sam, “You can’t save everybody, Sam.” (And, HAHA, certainly not his brother is who destined to die because what’s the fucking point of rebar anyway?) 

Bella, once again, finds the brothers. They’re laying low in an abandoned house researching shipwrecks. She knows what ship they’re seeing before they die. It turns out the ghost was a traitorous sailor that was hanged on this ship, but not before his hand was cut off and made into a hand of glory. They need to find that hand, and Bella knows where it is. 

We’re next treated to a little Dean objectification when he walks down the stairs in a tux. He hates it, but Bella is impressed. I can’t help it. Dean’s a cutie here. 

For We’re Going to Objectify Him Anyway Science:

They arrive at the soiree accompanied by a swanning musical score. Sam wriggles away from his handsy Gross Old Lady ™ companion to complain about his decoy duties. Dean and Bela show no inclination to give him any reprieve and slink off to pull their heist. Every door is guarded by an off duty cop, so Bela swoons in Dean’s arms.

He explains that she’s imbibed a little too much. A guard escorts them upstairs to a secluded den and leaves them to “recover.” Bela casually insults Dean’s intelligence yet again and then sends him off to complete the heist. 

Sam continues to experience non-consensual touching by Grabby Gertie. UGH SAM we’re so sorry.

Dean, meanwhile, cracks a safe - a scene which I find HIGHLY APPEALING. While he’s hard at work, Bela deflects the guard from discovering that Dean’s missing from the room by pretending to have a romantic interlude. Dean’s return is comically timed, and the guard leaves happy thinking he’s just witnessed a cuckolded husband and clandestine affair. I guess whatever floats your boat? 

Dean brandishes the hand of glory at Bela and they prepare to leave the party. Downstairs, Sam is DRENCHED in discomfort, but Grabby Gertie contributes something at last to the case. She reveals that the two dead brothers were rumored to have killed their ultra-rich father. And her niece had been involved in a fatal car accident as a teen where her cousin died. 

Dean and Sam head off in the Impala, only to discover that Bela once again pulled a fast one on them. She replaced the hand with a model ship in a bottle, which she stole while she was waiting for Dean in the den. 

Elsewhere, Bela fondles her money in a convertible until she sees DUN DUN DUN a ghost ship in the distance. 

In their room, Dean rants about Bela’s theft to an unsympathetic Sam, only to have Bela pound on their door. The ship’s after her now and she already sold the hand to someone across the ocean. As one does. 

Sam drops more case details: the captain of the ghost ship was the brother of the hanged sailor. “Very Cain and Abel,” Sam notes while I grind my teeth. The targets of the hauntings: people who have spilled their family’s blood. Dean taunts Bela while she sits in haunted turmoil. Dean, babe. 

Sam and Dean insist that Bela reveal her dark emotional secrets to them before they’ll help her which is some real trash behavior. Sam finally relents, and tells them there may be one thing they can do to save her. 

In a darkened cemetery, Sam lights candles around a pentagram. 

It starts to pour. Sam starts an incantation which reads “Azael, Castiel…” and I’m about to lose my goddamned mind. Sam continues to invoke the arrival of his brother’s husband in the following season like he doesn’t have any clue about Dean’s epic love arc with the angel Castiel.

The ghost appears, flings Dean across the cemetery, and starts to drown Bela. Sam frantically reads and as he finishes the incantation, the ghost’s brother appears. The captain apologizes for killing his “own brother” and I chew my own arm off. 

The two ghosts...cancel each other out, or something? Thanks for the symbolism, Chuck. 

The next day, Bela tosses some cash at the Winchesters as a thank you. “Ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You’re so damaged,” Dean says. Bela calls Dean on his bullshit projection. 

Dean decides to take the money Bela gave them to go on a holiday to Atlantic City. (Amara, is that you?) Dean assures Sam that he’ll be fine once he’s dead. “You’re stronger than me,” Dean tells him. I shriek at levels so high it’s practically undetectable. 

“I’m a big boy now. I can take care of myself,” Sam retorts (not helping his case, let’s be honest). He tells Dean that the important thing is to SAVE DEAN. He wants Dean to care that he’s dying!

Dean stares at the road with the eyes of a drowning man, slipping helplessly under the water. “I think I’ll play craps,” he decides while Sam gives his best grouchface to the passing streetlights.

Shipping Quotes:

“How do you sleep at night?” “On silk sheets, rolling naked in money”

You know when this is over, we should really have angry sex

Don’t objectify me

 Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[danddymaro]

Bucky Barnes x Reader |Pt.5

Word Count: 2119   | Part 3: Rising

Very short chapter.

Previous part : Content

Rising

“Sometimes I wonder what my place is in this world.” She said out loud, 

“And it’s always amazing to think that there are people that idolize me,” She added with amusement, thinking fondly of all the people that have stopped her, the most treasured moments being those with children.

‘ From an outsider’s perspective...I guess I have everything figured out,’ She mused, ‘And it makes it worse because I’m just one big lie,’ She went on.

 "- Because the truth is, I don't know what I'm really doing with myself. And it feels like, at this point...I should already have everything figured out." She said while staring down at her palms, pondering over just what their purpose was.

“ Oftentimes, I want to find what that reason is,” (f/n) spoke, “ I have the interest to change, but, just as I feel that way I cave. And then, I just go on with what’s given to me. “ She admitted.

“ And it’s so contradicting... to want so much, yet, be this compliant.” She voiced out, blowing out a soft, lukewarm chuckle.

'I'm pathetic,' She thought to herself, ‘Am I just not trying enough?’ She then wondered.

“I want to be so much stronger.” She said while looking up, (e/c) colored eyes full of certainty while the (dark/light) orbs finally found their way to his.

 “I want to be much more...just like you,” She said while looking straight at the man, wanting to match his every step, but knowing fully well that she lacked plenty to do so. 

“But...I know it’s impossible,” She admitted, aware that if she had a tail it’d be tucked in between her legs, hiding in misery as she admitted her deepest insecurity to him,

‘How can I Overcome being Human? ' She wondered, her certainty quickly dying out, vanishing with a low, azure breath.

'Is this all I’m meant to be?

Is this my limitation?’ She continued to ponder.

"I just can't do it..." She admitted, her voice sounding soft and strained as she uttered the words.

Quiet silence filled the spaces in between, and just when she was growing accustomed to the quiet, he spoke, 

“ Is this your way of throwing in the towel? ” He then asked her, his gloved index giving her chin a quick nudge up, the loving bump up forcing her to look at him.

"Huh?" He added, “Is this your way of saying goodbye?” He proceeded to asked her, shaking his head all the while, seeming disappointed, though, throughout it all, offering her a faint smile. 

Stunned at the question, she stayed quietly still, her only action being the deep, harsh swallow she executed.

“If so, then you could at least look at me,” He mused, his soft smile inching up more, the very action forcing a shaky breath from her, because until then, she'd avoided actually gazing into his eyes.

‘Do I have a choice?’ She idly wondered, ‘Can I fight it?’ 

‘ Or...Is this goodbye?’ She continued to wonder, a sharp pain suddenly striking her, forcing her to step back, distancing herself from the man. 

Stumbling, she nearly fell before doubling over.

At that, he took a step to her, following her while she found her distance, soon continuing at the same pace she drew back. 

She felt as though her body were being split in two, and helplessly, she wrapped her arms around herself as though attempting to hold her two halves into one, all while he watched, his blue eyes observing her.

“- I believe in you.” He said with certainty. “So don’t tell me you’re done, “ he went on, watching as she crumpled, her body withering in pain. 

"You've held on this long," He informed her, " - It's not just luck," Steve apprised her.

"Come on," he encouraged her, his hand held out to her. 

“Just come towards me,” He enthused, baiting her like a man would a beast, all with a promise in his palm, 

"(f/n),” He called out to her. 

“(f/n)….” he went on, his voice sounding faint whilst she stopped, her (e/c) colored eyes tightly closed as she grimaced, a blaring alarm ringing, the obnoxious sound bouncing within her pounding brain,  overpowering the sound of his calls.

Blindly, she reached out, her arm stretched as far as it could go, waving left and right to try and take hold of his hand.

‘I’m trying,’ She swore. ‘This time...I’m really trying,’ She went on, with stumbled steps she hobbled forward, walking towards the warmth that led her towards a bright path.

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A deafening, strangled cry made blue eyes go wide, the blood-curdling noise causing the light hairs that were on the back of his neck to all stand, pointed out with alarm.

His head rose from its hanged state, and during then, his eyes lingered in awe, softly breathing the woman's name in a dazed fashion that perfectly mirrored his every bit of astonishment.

Stilled, he watched as right before him, she had awoken with a start, not knowing where she was, the first recollection she had being that of the vicious encounter in the wilderness whilst held at the mercy of a cornered beast.

The howl that had been silenced during that period finally found its way out, bouncing off of the white walls with alarm, no longer restricted.

She rose, her upper body lifting off from the mattress, and soon after she found herself sitting, her hands instantly flying towards her gaping mouth.

Again, the bitter taste filled her tongue, dancing over her miserable buds before powerful coughs that were mighty enough to rake her entire body overwhelmed her.

Scarlet dripped from her parted lips, splattering out like the flowing waters of a sprinkler in its moderate setting, creating a scandalous mess that painted her surrounding with the barbaric tint.

The falling liquid stained the white bedsheets, and the distant grey-colored gown alike, leaving traces of its fierce brilliance behind. 

Everything in its path lay colored with red, dripping from her paled lips and landing in small splotches that were similar to red azalea’s scattered over the white snow.

The monitor beside her began to pick up with life again, beeping wildly to keep up with her racing heart, roaring loudly with its digital sound throughout the previously silent room with its own form of excitement.

Greedily, she swallowed up masses of air, gasping like a drowning person in panic.

Her (e/c) eyes briefly skimmed around the room, the wet (e/c) colored orbs soon catching sight of the two men there with her, as they too stared at her wide-eyed, gobsmacked by the occurrence.

Dark chocolate drops and crystalline gems met with her own (e/c) orbs for only a split second before she succumbed to darkness once more.

The sudden sluggishness hit her with an unexpected sucker punch that overwhelmed her, whilst at that very moment, a searing fire ran across the length of her abdomen in a crude, jagged line.

Her head soon collided with the softness of the cushioned pillow, as she came crashing back down, falling like an anvil from a skyscraper.

'Again...' She thought to herself, drowsily taking in the sensation of pain before welcoming the sweet warmth that coddled her afterward.

‘But it feels different,‘ Accepting the comforting lull into darkness.

As she felt herself drift off, she felt a soft heat consume her again just as it had before during the same moment that the sun had so kindly coaxed her from the path of darkness.

The hot pain she felt was subdued to soft tingles before she was welcomed by a tranquil silence that felt welcoming and kind, and more like a new beginning rather than a bitter end.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When he had heard the monitor stop, he held in his breath, the man too afraid to look at the thin, red line that was drawn across the screen, because he knew that once he caught sight of the sign, there was no hope left.

There would be no measly bit of faith to hold on to, leaving the unconscious woman to become a memory, one with a final sweet expression that would forever haunt him for failing her.

He had been hesitant to look at her still body, unwilling to accept that she actually laid there without the same life she had been bursting with before only hours prior.

After the blaring sound, all he'd heard was silence, an unbearable quiet he wished was full of her voice instead, all until the monitor decided to fret, its sound masked by another cry.

- And it absolutely stunned him.

Steve Rogers couldn't believe it, because, before him, just a few feet away was the woman he had thought to have lost, now budding with new life.

“How..?” He breathed, an enormous smile spreading onto his previously grief-stricken face as he, too, swallowed up globs of air.

It was a mystery he didn't even care to get explanations for because he would be satisfied the rest of his life to simply know that she was now well, brought back to him by whatever strange force that decided to work its wonder.

'You're back...' He thought with a wash of relief.

Sam had been at his side, his hand suspended in the air before he became startled by the sudden revival, all to a point he was motionless with stun.

He was the first to move, soon standing at the woman's side, gazing at her with astonished, dark eyes.

Throughout his life, he'd been witness to many things, exposed to many scenarios no common person could ever even fathom, yet, what had occurred that day was the most staggering up to date.

It was nothing short of a miracle, because as he inspected her sleeping face, he stood stunned, finding amazement in what was happening before his own eyes.

He began signaling Rogers with vigorous hand movements, all so he would find a place at his side and watch the phenomenon.

Entranced, they watched as the bluish marks marrying her body faded, taking with them every speck of imperfection that had been there after the mission. they disappeared, vanishing without a trace of evidence that was proof of her struggle.

“I don’t know how she did it,” Sam started, all while shaking his head down at his sleeping friend, “But she actually managed to cheat death,” he said while beginning to smile broadly, a swell of pride striking him.

‘That’s it,’ Wilson thought to himself, cheering her on.

The blonde couldn't even begin to define the joy he felt, feeling the weight of his heavy heart grow light with his friend’s words,

“ She sure did,” he responded back, hanging his head tiredly as a weary chuckle escaped him, one that soon morphed into true, joyous laughter.

Sam gave him a side glance, watching as the taller male covered the upper portion of his face, shielding his slightly glossed eyes as he laughed alongside him.

There was nothing to fear, nothing to shed sorrows for, and even then, he couldn't help but let the faint trace of misery escape him.

‘You were so close...You were right there.’ He thought to himself, grateful she’d found her way back to them.

“Got a tear in your eye there captain?” Sam said smiling, the teasing tone that made Steve snicker.

‘Leave it to Sam…’ He thought with an eye roll, shaking his head at the playful remark.

“ Nah...” he breathed, “ It’s just a little something... you know from dusting you every morning for the past 2 years.” The blonde responded, giving the darker-skinned man a sympathetic pat to the back before turning to the exit.

He was quick to run his forearm over his eyes, doing away with the threatening tears, deciding to leave with a present smile instead, one that held more meaning as Wilson stayed behind, all while at a loss for words.

Sam then rolled his own eyes, his mouth hanging open at the rather smooth reply, surprised at the ease it left the super-soldier.

He half shrugged, nodding, “ Ok, maybe I had that coming.” He said while chuckling, not bothered in the least bit by the jab.

“Good one,” he complimented.

“- Come on Sam, I'm sure all she needs is some sleep,” Steve said while staring over to the steady breathing girl, trusting her to pull through.

With a silent nod, the other male agreed, following in suit.

Both men walked out, certain their friend would be only hours away from being the same joy she’d been before.

All she needed was a little rest, just some shut-eye and she’d be up running alongside them again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Next Part : 

[langdxn]

Oof wife, I miss you help me with the thought of Xavier + breeding kink…Delicious 😈

EEESH I’ve waited SO LONG to do this, thank you wifey! Hope you’re well! 🖤🖤🖤 (gif by @langdvn)

A new feeling washed over Xavier at campfire truth or dare. A fresh pang of unease bolted through his body, an almost out-of-body experience as he watched himself unravel beside the dying embers of the fire.

“Come on babe, you asked for truth so answer it,” Montana goaded you, eagerly twirling her bleach blonde hair in her fingers. “Do you, or do you not, wanna have Xavier’s babies?”

Your hand fired up to cover your mouth in a pathetic bid to disguise your nervous laughter. Ray slapped his thighs and leaned in close, an exhilarated smile beaming back at you as he waited for your response. Chet’s smug grin burned into your other cheek, but there was no sign of the bleached actor in question.

That most important of conversations between a serious couple never happened for you and Xavier. Despite three blissfully happy years together, you’d never once thought he was the kind of guy that wanted to settle down — a free spirit, an aspiring actor that didn’t need tying down to a certain state or home when he needed to be halfway across America on set for weeks on end. You’d always wanted kids one day but you were fairly certain you couldn’t convince Xavier of the same.

“Well yeah, sure,” you trailed off helplessly, eyes darting at the floor and idly kicking the bark around your sneakers. “Maybe one day, yeah. When we’re both ready.”

“I fucking knew it!” Ray cheered wildly, punching the air enthusiastically. “Xav, you hear that? You’re gonna be a daddy!”

“Shut up, Ray.” Ever the peacemaker, Brooke jabbed him in the ribs, received with an exaggerated ouch and a frantic rub of his side. “Xavier, don’t listen to him.”

“Nah nah, do listen to him,” Chet piped up, instinctively flexing his muscles as usual. “When are you guys gonna start making babies already?”

The actor leaned forward from his position in the shadows, his face slowly bathed in the amber glow of the fire. As his features came into focus, Xavier looked concerned. Scared. Conflicted. Your answer had clearly shaken him up, leaving him fiddling nervously with the cuffs on his lavender jacket.

“Yeah, yeah I heard,” he sighed, almost wishing the words wouldn’t tumble from his lips as he stubbed out the last of his joint. “Listen, I’m gonna call it an early night guys. It’s been fun but I’m totally wiped.”

Boos and hisses echoed around the campfire as he bolted to his feet, brushing down his white pants and walking wearily in the direction of the boys cabin. Eyes shot over to you, your friends grinning manically as if they expected you to follow him.

“Babe, he’s going to burn all his condoms now he doesn’t need them anymore,” Montana jibed loudly as the rest of the group erupted into gossip and laughter before she grabbed hold of your arm and leaned in to whisper to you. “Go to him, he needs you.”

“But he— he looks mad,” you panicked, brows furrowed.

“Trust me, please, he needs to make sense out of all that,” the blonde pulled on your sleeve and gestured you toward him. “He’s a bonehead, you need to spell it out for him.”

“I hope you’re right, ‘Tana,” you sighed, hesitantly grabbing your jacket and speeding to follow him.

“Xavier, wait!” You called out as he raced ahead of you, feet barely touching the ground until he swung the cabin door open and bundled in. Cursing yourself as your legs couldn’t carry you fast enough, you tumbled through the door to find the cabin empty. Gaze firing across the room and finding nobody in any bunks, only the pale moonlight flooding through the windows to light the interior. “Xav, are you okay?”

The cabin door creaked closed behind you, spinning you on your heels to find Xavier stepping slowly toward you.

“Listen, I know that was a bit crazy but I didn’t mean right now—“

As his sneakers bumped against yours, his hands gently wandered your body and his head dipped into the crook of your neck.

“Truth or dare, baby girl?” Xavier whispered, fluttering butterfly kisses into your sensitive skin as he stripped you slowly, softly, sensually, your clothes pooling at your feet.

“Uh, truth?” You replied hesitantly, unsure of where he was going with his line of questioning, taking his lead and shedding his clothing in return.

Once he unhooked your bra, your last remaining attire, Xavier cupped your face in both hands and smiled at you warmly, his piercing blue eyes staring straight into your soul.

“Will you have a baby with me?”

Your breath caught in your throat as you both stood together in the middle of the messy, dimly-lit boys cabin, completely stripped.

“Are... are you sure?” You stammered frantically as he stepped you back until you bumped into a blunt wooden desk behind you. “You know they were just joking out there, right?”

“Answer the question, honey,” Xavier pressed firmly, holding his lips a tantalising inch from yours while carefully hitching you up onto the desk, wrapping your bare legs around his waist.

“Well yeah, yeah, of course I do, but you’ve got your career—“

“Screw my career,” he husked, one hand journeying to his hardening length and lining himself up with your entrance. “Sly Stallone was 30 when he did Rocky, I’ve got plenty of time to make it. Just say the words, baby girl.”

Your eyes locked, gazing at each other like the first time you met. All the moments of love, lust and companionship between you, they all boiled down to this one moment.

“Okay, I’ll be clear,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and dug your heels into the back of his thighs, drawing him close until the tip of his cock, dripping impatient beads of precum, edged through your folds. “Xavier Plympton, breed me.”

“That’s my girl,” he purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss mingling both of your tense moans as he rocked his hips forward and buried his length inside you.

“So…” you stumbled through broken gasps as he slowly bottomed out inside you, rolling your hips toward him to keep up with his glacial pace. “How long have you kept this quiet?”

“A couple years,” he hummed almost matter-of-factly as he groaned watching his cock pouring into your cunt.

“Years?!” Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, a quirked eyebrow aimed straight for the man currently revelling in the feeling of your walls wrapped tightly around him after years of using condoms.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know how to bring it up,” he punctuated every word with a curl of his hips, sending your eyes darting to the ceiling as he grazed your sensitive spot.

“It’s easy really, Plympton, just rip off the rubber and tell me you’re gonna fuck a baby into me.”

“Well,” he grasped your hips firmly, fingertips delving into your soft skin as he growled hungrily. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.”

Xavier ramped up the pace of his determined thrusts with the words rolling off his tongue, increasing to a frantic pace as he slipped through your swollen folds. Your back arched eagerly into him, digging crescents into his back so fervently you were sure you’d drawn blood in the heat of the moment.

“What—what are we gonna tell the others?”

“That I’ve got super sperm and I knocked you up on the first try?” His childlike grin stretched further across his lips as his tip crashed into your walls, leaving a burning throb in your core signalling your own climax was near. “If I get you pregnant now, you’ll be showing by the time we leave here after the summer.”

“You want to show me off to the rest of the counsellors?” You rolled your hips into him as he pounded you relentlessly into the wooden desk.

“Who wouldn’t, baby? You’re smokin’ hot even when you’re not carrying my child...” Xavier trailed off as he fixed a flat expectant palm on your abdomen, sending a bolt of heat to your cheeks. “Just imagine how radiant you’ll look when you’re pregnant. I’m sorry babe, I’ll never be able to stop holding your bump.”

“As long as you won’t stop fucking me when I’m huge,” you pleaded softly as your walls constricted around him.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that—fuck, I’m close… lie back for me, baby,” he quickly gestured you down to the desk as he grabbed a sweatshirt from his bunk and tucked it beneath your hips, his thrusts stuttering frantically. “Let’s knock you up, babe.”

“Kiss me while you impregnate me, Xav.”

You pulled him down to you, using your last snap of energy before the pressure inside your core unleashed a tidal wave of arousal over his length as he pulsed within your folds. The cabin echoed with your blissful moans into each other’s mouths and the obscene slick of his thrusts as Xavier released in tandem with you.

Winding down his rolling hips, Xavier watched your folds to make sure he’d filled you properly. Bottoming out one last time, he sighed contentedly and met your loving gaze.

“Our parents are gonna kill us when we get home,” you bit your bottom lip before Xavier planted a haunting kiss on them.

“Then let’s never go home.”

[publickoccurances]

Female companions react to being severely injured while on the road with Sole.

Cait: On the road again. Not that she’d have it any other way. Being out here with Sole sure did beat being stuck in that cage in the Combat Zone.

“Where is it we’re headed again?” Cait grumbled as she fell in step with Sole. They walked so fecking fast.

Sole glanced over at their friend, giving them a cheeky grin. “Oh, just somewhere a bit spooky.” They teased.

Cait rolled her eyes and made a disgusted noise. Spooky? What could possibly be considered spooky in this fucked up world they lived in. “Oh come on, stop fecking about.”

Sole sniggered ever so slightly. “We’re headed to Salem Cait. They had the witch trials there, supposedly very haunted.” Even though it seemed ridiculous, Sole liked holding onto the thought of anything pre-war.

Cait raised an eyebrow. Witches? Haunted? What the fuck was Sole playing at here.

.........................

Cait kept her hand on her gun as they approached the Museum of Witchcraft. It was very unsettling. She didn’t like how quiet it was. “Sole this was a bad fecking idea I’m telling ye’.” She breathed, eyes darting around as she tried to catch her bearings.

“You’re just letting your fears get to you. Come on Cait, it’s just a museum.” Sole shook their head as they took confident strides towards the decrepit building. “I just want to see if they have any books or something left behind.”

“My fears are not-.” Cait was cut short by a horrific sight in front of her. “Holy fuck- he’s been torn apart.”

Laying in front of them was the corpse of what appeared to be a Gunner. They had been torn apart by something, their torso split open, one arm half hanging off. A terrible sight.

“What the feck could do that to someone.” Cait whispered through gritted teeth as she looked towards the entrance to the museum.

Sole took a deep breath and shook their head. “Hell I don’t know...but this is fresh. And Gunners never run alone- there could be people trapped inside.” They looked towards Cait. Despite how scared they were, Sole couldn’t just walk away if there was a chance there was any survivors.

“Shite.” Cait muttered. Sole was right. Gunners never worked alone. If she could have it her way they would just turn around and walk the fuck outta there. But she knew Sole well enough now to know that wasn’t an option.

It didn’t take the pair long to find a way inside the museum. The front door had been chained from the inside or something, but they eventually found a basement they could enter through.

The building was silent as they decended down the stairway. It wasn’t the normal kind of silence. It was more of an terrifying one. The kind that makes you think something is gonna jump out at you. But that wasn’t going to stop them.

“Whatever it is... it’s killed these guys as well.” Sole whispered as the pointed her gun towards more tore up bodies. These seemed fresher than the one outside. The metalic smell of blood filling the air around them.

“Yeah... I reckon a couple of hours at most.” Cait agreed quietly, looking up to notice a large hole in the ceiling. “Seems like whatever it is found a quicker way up than the stairs.”

Cait did not like this. Not one fecking bit. She was all for danger. But this. This was something else entirely.

Just as Cait was going to suggest they leave a rumble came from the floor above. Something big was moving up there. Something real fecking big.

“What the fuck is that?” Sole’s eyes were wide with fear. Suddenly this fun little trip was definitely not so fun anymore. They looked to Cait, giving a slight nod before slowly walking up the stairs.

Whatever was moving around up their was causing the unstable building to rumble. The floor creaked, the windows (that hadn’t already shattered) were shaking. Surely this place wasn’t really haunted?

“Listen Sole- whatever that is... I think we should leave.” Cait suggested, though she knew that Sole wouldn’t agree. If there was a chance of saving people, they would. So as they stepped up onto the ground floor she took a deep breath.

What happened next came out of nowhere. The pair had barely been on the ground floor before there had been a ungodly sound ringing through both of their ears. Whatever had ripped those people apart had spotted them. And it was mad.

“What the feck-.” Cait turned and her eyes widened. A Deathclaw. Shite. She was just about to take a shot even suddenly a giant claw had swiped at her.

Cait was thrown back down the stairs at the force of being hit. She could feel a large gash open in her abdomen, blood beginning to pool out of her. Fuck.

She could hear Sole screaming out for her. She could hear that monster letting out it’s horrendous sounds. But she was helpless. She couldn’t feel anything. Her vision going blurry.

“Cait! Cait!” Sole continued to scream. They were cornered. This monster had seemingly killed Cait. And now it was going to kill them. All they could do was keep pulling the trigger, keep taking shots. Keep fighting.

“S-Sole...” Cait gasped, finally regaining some function over her body. Her hand moved down to her injury. It was deep. She was bleeding. Bleeding out maybe? Fuck. Was she dying?

The commotion caused by Sole and the Deathclaw filled the building with gunshots and roars. Whatever was going on up there was intense.

Cait patted her pack desperately trying to open it. If she was going to die it was going to be on her terms. She took a deep breath, injected a stimpack directly to her injury. “Fuck...” She hissed in pain.

If she could just get up the stairs she could help. Help her friend. If she was going to die she was going to die fighting. Not bleeding out in a basement alone.

After a few deep breaths Cait managed to muster up enough strength to begin to drag herself up the stairs. Each step she pulled herself up cause her agony. But she was going to do this. She wasn’t going to die down there. Not while her friend was facing getting ripped apart.

“You fucking demon!” Sole screamed at the Deathclaw as they took cover behind a display case. “I’m gonna see you fucking rot for what you’ve done!” As if the Deathclaw knew what they were saying. But it was making them fight harder. Each shot they took landed in the beasts thick hide, but it didn’t seem to be doing much damage. Cait was the one with a shot gun, all Sole had was a pistol. They were fucked.

Cait could hear her friend fighting for their life and it seemed to create a new burst of energy in her. She dragged herself up the remaining steps, letting out grunts of pain as she did so.

The stairs were only the first hurdle. Now she was up them Cait had to somehow get on her feet. If she could just stand she could get a shot on that beast. It was in her sight now, but she couldn’t get it from down on the floor.

“H-hold on Sole... I’m gonna get this blighter.” She breathed out, shifting herself into a sitting position. “C’mon Cait... stop being a fecking flower- get up.”

Cait pressed her back firmly against the wall and with every remaining ounce of energy she had in her pushed herself to her feet, using the wall to hold her up. “Over here ye’ ugly bastard!”

Both Sole and the Deathclaw looked over in Caits direction. Soles eyes widening. “Cait! No!” They cried out helplessly as the beast charged Cait.

With a deep breath Cait cocked her gun. “Hail fecking Mary.” She breathed as the beast approached. And just as she was within its reach...

BANG!

The Deathclaw hit the floor, it’s body going limp. It lay there. Gapping hole in its chest. Cait had blown right through the fucker.

“Fecking haunted my arse.” Cait grunted as she slumped back down to the floor. “Sole get me the feck out of here before I bleed out. There’s no fecking way I’m dying before I get a chance to beat yer arse for convincing me to come out here with ye’.”

Curie: Being on the road with Sole was an experience Curie was thoroughly enjoying in her new human form. It opened up the opportunity for her to feel a range of emotions. And she had been making note of each one.

As they made their way along the dusty Commonwealth road Curie couldn’t help but have a slight skip in her step. Sole had promised to show her somewhere extremely interesting, somewhere that she would be able to learn so much.

“Ah Sole.” Curie began, her voice rather chirpy. “Why ave’ you kept where we are going a secret?” Secrets. This was another thing Curie was new to. She found them rather exciting.

Sole glanced to their friend and shot her a cheeky smile. “Because, the look on your face when we get there is gonna be priceless.”

Curie took a few moments. This was a new saying. How could the way her face looked be priceless? What would cause such a thing? Ah well. She was far too excited to question what her friend was saying.

“It as’ been a rather quiet day, no?” Curie commented as she looked around her.

This was a very true statement. Usually when they would make such long journeys like these each day would have some sort of setback. But surprisingly to the two of them it had been very quiet.

Sole nodded, a slight frown forming on their lips. “Yeah... you’re right.” They said quietly, glancing around. “Maybe a bit too quiet.”

One thing the Commonwealth had taught Sole was that you couldn’t trust the quiet. It may have sounded a stupid statement. But it usually meant that something was brewing. Something bad.

“Maybe we should take a break.” Sole mumbled. Usually they would ask Curie whether or not she would like a break. But right now they were deciding. There was a strange feeling in the air now. They needed to catch their bearings.

A exasperated sigh left Curie’s lips. A break now? She was becoming rather impatient. Ah! A new feeling to make a note of.

“Very well.” Curie nodded her head. “But a short one, yes? I am feeling rather excited for wherever it iz we are going.”

Sole gave a slight nod towards and empty diner they had been walking towards. “We’ll catch our bearings in there. Better make sure we have a bit of cover just in case.”

The pair made their way into the long since abandoned diner. There was no sign of anyone being there in a long time. The perfect spot to sit down, get some food in them and all together recharge before they got a move on.

Sole allowed about an hour to pass before looking to Curie. They hadn’t been able to shake that feeling that something was going to go wrong Since Curie had mentioned how quiet it was. It was making them uneasy.

“I think we need to be extra vigilant when we’re back on the road.” They commented casually, trying not to let on just how uneasy they were feeling.

Curie tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. “If you do not mind me asking... why must we be more vigilant?”

Sole shrugged their shoulders. “Oh no reason. It’s just you know how it is. When it’s quiet that’s usually a good indicator that trouble is gonna happen.”

This was not something that Curie knew. This was actually new information. And she was making a mental note of it. “When it iz quiet that means there iz a pozzibility for trouble.” She nodded.

Curie stood up, brushing off some of the dust that had fell on her since they had stopped at the diner. “Well my friend... I think it iz about time we get a move on, no?”

What neither of them had realised that the whole time they had been sitting in the cover of the diner a group of mercenaries had been scouting them out. And Curie standing up had given their sniper a near perfect shot.

“Yeah... yeah let’s get a move on.” Sole agreed. But before they could even get on their feet a shot suddenly zoomed through one of the windows.

Curie had been turning to look at Sole as this happened. But that didn’t stop the bullet from striking her in the neck.

“Fuck! Curie!” Soul quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down under the cover of the walls before another shot could be taken. “Shit... shit...” They hissed, quickly applying pressure to the wound.

“I-I ave’ been shot...” Curie gasped. Suddenly she was feeling a range of new emotions she had never felt before. So many that she couldn’t even make a mental note of them.

“It’s gonna be okay... just... Curie tell me what to do.” Sole practically begged as they cradled Curie. They knew whoever had taken that shot was still outside the diner. But right now all they could think about was how much blood was currently pouring out of the bullet wound.

Curie was trying to take deep and slow breaths. She knew that were she to panic as well both of their lives would be at risk.

“You must- you must make us safe, no?” Curie looked into Soles eyes, her own filling with tears. “P-put my and’ on the wound... I will ave’ to keep pressure on eet until we are safe.”

Sole did as Curie instructed. They laid her down, taking one of her hands and placing it over the wound. “Just hold tight okay Curie... I’m gonna kill that bastard and then we’re gonna get you sorted.” Sole assured before they moved away from Curie, to draw any more fire away from her.

It was funny. As she laid there Curie felt peaceful. She knew that she had been shot in a very dangerous spot, and by the amount of blood she had lost she was well aware this could be it. Her life could very well be ending.

She had completely zoned out from the sound of gunfire. She forgot Sole was even there trying to kill whoever had shot her. This was what death felt like? Surely not? Curie had always heard people speak of death in such a negative way. Yet as she lay here she couldn’t help but feel happy.

Curie allowed her eyes to close. Memories running through her mind. A specific one was sticking out. And she didn’t hesitate to allow herself to relive it.

‘Curie! Curie!’ Sole called out, a cheery smile on their face as they entered her new laboratory. ‘Look at what I found for ya.’

Curie let out a gasp of disbelief as she looked at what Sole was holding in their hand. ‘It eez a vault tec Bobble Head?’ She couldn’t hardly believe her eyes.

‘Yeah but look!’ Sole grinned as they pointed to the labcoat the little figure was wearing. ‘It’s a medicine one... I thought you’d like it for you desk.’

A gift? For her? Curie had never received a gift before. And she could hardly hold back her happiness as she took the small figure into her hands

‘Thank you my friend.’ She breathed as she looked up at Sole.

“Curie! Curie!”

Suddenly Curies eyes shot open. She was no longer stood in her laboratory with her friend. She was laying on the hard floor, bleeding out.

“God... Curie don’t close your eyes... please.” Sole begged as they once again took over placing pressure on Curies wound. “We’re safe now yeah- I killed them.” Sole assured.

Curie managed a faint smile. “We are safe.” She agreed, her eyes meeting Soles. Such kind eyes they had. “I don’t believe zhe bullet as’ it’ a major artery...” She breathed. “Otherwise I would not ave’ woken up from that dream. You must patch me up my friend. And zen we may return home, yes?”

Piper: Piper couldn’t help but grin as her and Sole walked along. They were doing one of her favourite activities, following a distress signal.

Understandable this seemed rather odd to be a favoured activity. But Piper couldn’t help it. A distress signal meant one of two things: they were going to save someone or they were going to be too late but there would be a decent news story about what had happened.

She was just glad it was her and Sole out on the road together, following the beep of the signal.

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever headed this far north before Blue.” Piper commented as she glanced around her. She didn’t recognise this area. This was exciting. Somewhere new!

Sole nodded their head in agreement, matching Pipers grin. “You know I think you may be right Miss Reporter.” They teased, giving her a playful nudge as they continued on their way.

Piper rolled her eyes. Yeah yeah. Back at it with the Miss Reporter. That was something Blue had got into a habit of calling her when she stated the obvious. It was all in good jest of course. She wasn’t really annoyed. In fact ninety five percent of the time she would go along with the joke.

“I’m willing to bet a night of drinks at the Dugout that the signal is coming from over there.” Piper joked as she pointed towards a stretch of the highway that had been turned into a rather rough looking settlement. It was surrounded by cars and trucks, looked pretty fortified from where they were standing.

Sole chuckled and nodded. “You know what Miss Reporter. I think you’re right.” They teased, giving Piper yet another nudge as they walked towards the settlement.

As the duo approached the settlement it seemed as though it was empty. There wasn’t any sign of people, ghouls or mutants. Not even a Bloatfly buzzing around. Strange. But not out of the realms of possibility.

“Maybe whoever it is got lost out here.” Sole commented as they checked the map on their PipBoy. “We’re pretty far out from anywhere. I know a few Minutemen are stationed close by- but if you didn’t know that I guess you’d assume you were all alone.”

Pipers eyebrows raised. She was impressed. Very impressed. Sole wasn’t usually this good at coming up with theories. They usually left that job to her.

“Well Blue... I reckon you might be on to something here.” Piper nodded her head in agreement.

They were getting closer now. There was still no signs of anyone. It was quiet as well. Sole was starting to doubt that whoever had set up the distesss signal was even still out here. It did seem a bit odd but they shrugged that feeling off.

The closer they got the louder the beep got. The distesss signal was definitely coming from one of the shacks situated out here. There was no doubt in either Sole or Pipers mind about that. They had definitely found the right place.

“Blue. I don’t think anyone is out here.” Piper mumbled, slightly disappointed in the outcome. She had been hoping for either a wastelander in need or rescue or at least something interesting she could make a note of. “Damn it, we really walked all this way out here for nothing?”

Sole frowned and nodded their head. “Yeah I think-.”

“STUPID PUNY HUMANS!” A mutant roared as they suddenly came barging out one of the shacks.

Well. This was going to be more exciting than finding nothing at least? That’s whag Piper was thinking to herself in that moment.

“Shit! Mutants! Duck down!” Piper called to Blue.

The duo dived behind seperate cars. It was the only cover they had from the onslaught of bullets the mutant was currently firing at them.

“Brilliant! Just brilliant!” Sole shouted over to Piper, an excited grin spread across their lips. “At least we didn’t walk all this way for nothing now, huh?!”

Piper shook her head. “Oh shut up and start shooting! I can hear more of them... if we don’t hurry up they’re gonna slaughter us!” Even though she was trying desperately to hide it, she was just as excited as Sole.

Piper had been right. There was at least five super mutants shooting at the two of them now. It was a good thing these pea for brains had terrible aim the reporter thought to herself.

What happened next neither of them had expected. One of the mutants had ran over, live bomb in hand. And just before it reached them it’s bomb had gone off. But this set off a series of events. The first being the car Piper had been using for cover also exploding, there had been a mine inside of it. The next thing to happen was the car explosion then setting off a series of mines.

The next thing Piper knew was she was laying in the dirt, caked in blood and grime, staring up at the sky. She couldn’t hear anything. Her ears were ringing. Holy shit. What had just happened?

Piper tried to push herself up, but to no avail. “My legs... I- Blue my legs! I can’t feel them!” Piper screamed. Though she couldn’t even hear herself. Her hearing was muffled. Her lower body numb. Fuck.

Where was Blue? Piper frantically turned her head, trying to catch sight of her friend. But nothing. All she could see was smoke and dust from the explosions. Was she still where she had originally been when hiding? Had the blast been strong enough to send her flying.

Piper began to panic. She couldn’t see Blue. They were dead. The explosion must have killed them. And now the mutants were going to come over and finish her off. Oh god. Poor Nat. She was never going to see her big sister again. She was going to have to fend for herself, the same way Piper had done when their dad had died. No. No! This was cruel. This wasn’t fair.

Just as Piper was ready to cry out for help something grabbed her collar. Fuck. She was being dragged through the dirt. Who the fuck was dragging her? Was it a mutant. Was she being taken by mutants?

Piper dug her hands into the ground. All she could hear was ringing but that didn’t stop her from shouting. “No! No! Blue! Blue help!” She cried out. Trying her hardest to fight against whatever was dragging her along.

Suddenly the dragging stoped, her back was pressed against sometbing metal. She looked up to see the familiar shape of a car. Only difference was this was smouldering and falling apart. Must have been the one that exploded. She couldn’t help but think how mutants had a sick sense of humour.

It was when Piper looked up some hope returned to her. It hadn’t been a mutant dragging her away. It had been Blue pulling her to cover. Oh Blue. She shouldn’t have doubted them.

Good news was her hearing was slowly coming back. She could hear gunshots as she watched Blue shooting from behind cover. They were still fighting. Still trying to save her. She couldn’t help the helpless feeling she had right now. But she knew Blue would do everything they could to keep her safe.

Sole suddenly slumped down, letting out some deep breaths. “That was the last of them.” They breathed, running a hand through their hair.

Just like Piper Sole was covered in dirt and blood. The explosion had been enough to knock them back, but Piper had been at the epicentre. It was a miracle she hadn’t been blown to pieces.

Sole looked at Piper, moving slightly so they could assess her injuries. Fuck she was in pretty bad shape. Her legs seemed to have taken the brunt of the injuries.

“Hold on Pipes... Im Gonna set off a flare.” Sole mumbled as they pulled out the flare gun Preston had given them. They knew there was minutemen in the area. Which meant help would be on the way.

Piper winced as Sole shot the flare up. Wait. That was good. She heard the flare. She wasn’t deaf. “Fuck- Blue.” Piper gasped. Now the initial shock was over she couldn’t suddenly feel the extent of her injuries.

Sole rummaged in their pack, pulling out a Stimpack. “Hold still.” They mumbled softly before injecting Piper. “Help will be on its way okay? We’ll get you straight to a doctor.”

Piper looked up at Blue, tears in her eyes. “Blue... Blue I can’t feel my legs.” She sobbed, the realisation hitting her that this very well could be permanent. “Why can’t I feel my legs? Are they still there?” She hadn’t even looked at them yet. She was too scared. And it was showing.

Sole nodded, moving their hands to her cheeks. “Don’t worry Piper... theyre still there okay? It’s going to be okay.”

Piper nodded slowly, letting out cry of pain as she lifted her hands. Oh god. Her hands. They were... well... they were barely there anymore. She’d lost half of her fingers and she hadn’t even realised. “Oh God Blue... we should have never come out here.”

[bellarke-angel]

Drabble request: stiles is killed by monroe post-series and lydia sorta does a scream that ends the whole world and sends her back in time to ep1, where she does a very complex martial arts move on Jackson when he hugs her from behind and tries to only act friendly in front of stiles (which still astounds him). Peter's someone she can deal with rather quickly but her main problem rn is to not scare the crap out of this lovable young stiles with her intensity while still grieving HER stiles. 

Lydia was sure this was a dream, it had to be, waking up to find herself lying in bed as though nothing had happened. Yet the last thing she could remember was Stiles limp in her arms, blood covering both her hands and clothes...but it wasn’t her blood, it was his. He’d been stupidly heroic yet again, the pair walking hand in hand through the woods, sure it was weird to be going on a late night walk in the woods but it had become a little thing they’d do. To spend time together without all the murder and shit. Then Brett had appeared out of thin air, the boy scrambling helplessly blood gushing from his arm as he held it, his breath hitched as he collided into the couple.

One word and that was all Stiles and Lydia had needed to know about what had happened, 

“Monroe.”

The boy strained, clearly needing medical attention. Stiles had been quick to the boys aid, trying to help him standing asking him a million questions at once. But all Bret could do was shake his head, mumbling something about his pack being hunted, that so many had died. Lydia couldn’t imagine the pain of losing so many. Stiles had instructed her to take Bret back to the jeep, to get him to the hospital before he lost too much blood. But before he could even shift Bret’s body weight onto Lydia, a sharp snap shot into the floor beside their feet. A gasp escaping their mouths. There was no time. 

“Next one goes through the chest!” A gruff voice echoed from behind them - they didn’t have to turn around to know who that voice belonged to. Gerrard.

"Of course it's you," Lydia sighed heavily, anger bubbling inside her.

It might've been in his genes to be a hunter. But it wasn't what Allison had wanted, Lydia just wished Gerrard would respect what his granddaughter's wishes.

"I should've guessed you'd come crawling out of your hole at some point." Lydia snarled, Stiles close beside her, his hand resting on her lower back.

"To be fair, I've always thought you resembled a mole," Stiles chimed in, a dancing smirk on his face as he ran his free hand over it. The scrawny boy earning himself a glower from the older man before them. “What? It’s true.”

Lydia stifled the smirk that threatened to appear on her lips, the short girl staggering as she felt Bret stumble weakly. A worried glance shooting his way as Gerrard muttered something to the woman beside him, the girl raising her crossbow to aim so perfectly at Brett. The three knew how this was going to end, with Brett’s condition deteriorating rapidly, there was no chance he’d be able to run without getting hit. Stiles quickly straightened, raising his hands up trying to defuse the situation. Shoving all his jokes aside.

“Hey, hey, look. No-one has to get hurt anymore than they already have,” He rambled, “We’ll just be taking our little wolf friend here, and he’ll be out of your hair. We’ll act like this never happened.”

The cruel pair before them let out a harsh cackle, “You think we’ll just let him go? How many people have to die because you monsters roaming our lands? No. He dies tonight.”

It was ironic that she was a councilor, the woman who was supposed to help with the students and their issues. Now turning on them, trying to kill them for something they never asked for. They were just trying to survive, like everyone else in this ghost ridden town. All it took was the snap of a wire, for the arrow to come soaring towards the innocent, injured boy ready to take his life. It happened faster than Lydia could process, Stiles being beside her one minute to launching himself before Brett the next. 

It was the sound of the arrow stopping that shattered Lydia’s reality. It had hit him. Stiles. Stopped plain in his chest, for a moment she found herself frozen in time. The redhead watching as the boy she loved stared down at himself, seemingly in shock that he’d actually risked his life for someone he barely knew. That he’d traded places, life for death. When his warm brown eyes locked onto Lydia’s, that was when she saw fear and pain begin to flood his mind. It was like Allison’s death all over again. But this time she was in Scott’s position, she was the one now cradling Stiles in her arms, the man having fell to his knees quickly losing the strength to breathe let alone stand. It ached her heart to watch, her hand putting pressure around his wound, her hands shaking as tears streaked down her cheeks.

“It’s okay,” Was all Stiles kept repeating, but she wasn’t listening. She knew it wasn’t. If it was then Allison would still be alive now, all it takes is one arrow and she knew Stiles knew that. “Lydia, listen to me. Y-you’ve got to get Scott, or...or my dad, I—”

“Why would you do that? You knew what would happen—fuck, Stiles.” Lydia questioned in anger, all the pain beginning to bubble up. The thought of losing yet another person she loved in the same way, causing sobs to rack her body. “I-I don’t want to lose you.���

Stiles raised a shaking hand to her cheek, his thumb grazing over her soft skin trying to memorize the feeling. He’d waited so long for them to be together, for Lydia to reciprocate his feelings and now it was all being taken away. Lydia let out a soft whimper, leaning into his touch, wishing everything to be okay again, but it didn’t change the fact that Stiles was dying. Right here, in her arms. A piece of her heart crumbling away.

“I love you, never forget that. Since the day I met you...you’ve been all I can think about, all I dreamed about, when I thought of my future, Lydia...” Stiles choked, the tears that were brimming in his eyes now falling. “You were all over it. You still are, okay. S—so whatever happens, promise me you’ll be happy, promise me you’ll go get that award you’ve always wanted. Promise you’ll take care of Scott.”

If Stiles wasn’t dying, she’d refuse to listen, refuse to hear his goodbyes or promise anything that didn’t involve him. She was finally happy, after all these years and that happiness was currently in her arms, on the edge of leaving her.

“Stiles, I can’t — “

It was getting harder and harder to swallow the scream aching to leave her body, but she watched as his eyes flutter, the boy struggling to stay awake. She needed him to hear her say it, to say she loved him more than he’d ever know, to tell him she didn’t want a future where he wasn’t in it. That for the past three years she’d loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life, Stiles was she’d wanted...but it was too late, her mouth fell agape ready to flood him with all the love consuming her thoughts. But his eyes were closed, his chest still...his hand limp. He was gone. And that was when she screamed, just before everything turned black.

[x]

Lydia hauled herself up, wincing at the coursing pain that shot through her head. She hadn’t had a migraine this bad since Eichen House, it took her a second to notice the changes in her room, the walls a horrid hot pink that of which they used to be years ago. The sight immediately making her cringe, she could’ve sworn just hours ago her bedroom walls were a warm rouge pink that she’d chosen with Stiles not too long ago. Lydia shook off the eerie feeling weighing on her, trying to piece together how she could be in the woods with Stiles one minute, to waking up in her bed...but that’s just it. She didn’t remember waking up. The redhead startled hearing her door click open, her mother walking in looking at her as though she was crazy.

“Lydia, what the hell are you still doing here? School starts in ten minutes.”

The redheads eyes widened at that, not bothering to question how the weekend had managed to fly by so fast. Senior year was the year she’d sworn not to be late, it could remain on her record forever and after being stuck in Eichen for so long. Missing out on essential classes wasn’t on her itinerary. 

“Shit,” She hissed beneath her breath, her mother glaring at her daughters foul language. Lydia’s green eyes flickered to her mother, knowing she’d get scolded for cursing - even if she was eighteen. “Sorry, I guess I slept through my alarm.”

“Well, you’d best get moving, you don’t want to be late.” Natalie tutted, she’d always frowned on anything but perfect when it came to her daughter. She knew Lydia was capable of whatever she set her mind to.

Lydia simply nodded, snatching up the first bag in her sight which just so happened to be her bag from her freshman year. It was horribly out of season, but it would have to do, she threw on an outfit - her grey boots, a loose fitted dress and her grey leather jacket thrown over the top. She instinctively reached for her car keys, which she always left resting upon her bedside table. Only to find them missing, she could’ve swore she put them there yesterday. The redhead knew she didn’t have time to fuss about where her keys were, darting down the stairs and into the kitchen, she’d have to ask her mother to drop her off. 

The redhead had fought the feeling of heartache the moment she’d awoken in her bed, but heading towards the school with her books in her arms and bag on her shoulder. It just seemed to get heavier, Stiles flooded her mind, his last words, the pain filled brown eyes, she’d never known Stiles to be as pale as he was that night. It haunted her, and something told her it was too realistic to be a dream. She remembered it so vividly. Lydia sucked in a breath, something telling her today was going to be different and the second she walked towards the double doors, noticing two familiar looking boys, her closest friends, both looking a lot younger and doe eyed than the last time she’d laid eyes on them. Something stopped Lydia in her tracks, she was close enough to note the buzz cut on Stiles and the rugged curls on Scott’s head. Something was definitely wrong.

But right now, with a heavy heart of losing the man she loved seeing him alive and healthy was all she cared about. The redhead strode forward, not bothering to think it through and threw her arms around the skinny boys body. The weigh of her suddenly colliding with him causing him to stumble back in shock. Lydia could tell immediately that this Stiles wasn’t hers. At least, not yet. The girl pulling back, to meet the slightly confused, slightly frightened muddy brown eyes she loved so. But all she could offer him was a smile.

“Lydia...uh...” Stiles visibly gulped, clearly dumbstruck, fumbling for words to say. Seeing Stiles like this, shy and nervous just how he was when they first became friends, melted her heart. “W-What, uh...I didn’t think you knew I existed.”

Lydia laughed lightly at his words, back then she didn’t, she hadn’t even known he’d attended the school until Allison took interest in Scott. 

“Nonsense, I know everyone.” 

Scott had been stood beside his best friend, in his own state of shock at the redheads presence. Not once had she even glanced in the boys direction, now here she was as though she’d change over night. Stiles gave Lydia a shy once over, noting the apparent differences in the girl.

“Did uh, did you do something with your hair?” The nervous boy asked, frightened he’d scare her off. Lydia frowned at his words, lifting a gather of her hair, did he not like it?

“No…” She begun, suddenly self conscious that all this time Stiles might’ve disliked her straight hair. “Do you not like it?”

Stiles reacted quickly to her words, rushing to nod his head feeling as though this was his one chance with Lydia and that he might screw it up.

“Fuck, uh. No, no I love it. I think it’s beautiful, you know, that you’re beautiful. I-I just meant that it was straight, it’s usually curly.” Stiles stammered, trying to correct his error.

Lydia had forgotten how shy Stiles had been around her when they first met, always fumbling for the right words, shooting her loving little looks. It caused Lydia’s cheeks to burn with a blush, falling more in love with him every second that passed. The redhead had no clue how she was here, if this was some strange multiverse, or if she was simply dreaming. But to see her boyfriend like this with his stupid buzz cut, his goofy smile and fit as a fiddle. She was thankful. Because at least it gives her a chance at loving him again, to savor her time with him whilst she could.

[x]

Strangely enough, classes had passed by quickly, Jackson had been hounding her like a dog most of the day. Lydia surely didn’t miss that. The girl sat at the “popular” table listening to Danny hammer on about some model from Vogue; the boys usual topic of conversation. When her green eyes landed on a familiar set of brown ones boring into her, like she was a puzzle he was trying to decipher. Lydia muttered an excuse to Jackson, rising to her feet and heading over to Scott and Stiles. 

“Hey.”

Was all she came out with, for no reason feeling a bundle of nerves build up in her stomach. Stiles seemed to smile instantly at her presence, clearly thrilled this morning wasn’t just a one off.

“What are you boys fanboying about? It’s just I was watching you guys and uh, whatever you’re talking about, it’s clearly important...or intriguing at least.”

Lydia knew Scott got bit around this time, seem as it was the start of freshman year. The two boys nervously glanced at one another, hesitant on whether to spill the details of their night. 

“Just...boy stuff, I guess.”

The ginger had to stifle a laugh at that, “Wow, boy stuff...you sure you don’t mean werewolf stuff?”

Both of the boys eyebrows shot up, mouth agape as they looked at her as though she could somehow read her mind. Maybe she could’ve came about telling them a lighter, instead of dropping a bomb like that. But what was the point in wasting time? 

“What? I mean, how do you know?” Scott struggled, scratching his head anxiously. His eyes suddenly growing wide, lowering his voice as he asked, “Did you get bit by that thing too?”

“No, ew. I just...happened to know, that’s all.” The girl shrugged, sliding into the seat beside Stiles. Subconsciously sitting a little too close to him, he’d been silent since she appeared. Lydia returned her attention to Scott. “That bite, starts something incredible.”

Scott remained dumbfounded, having no clue how she could’ve stumbled across all of this information. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was some kind of psychic. Stiles cleared his throat, eyes still trained on Lydia beside him.

“I’ve never got to admire those green eyes of yours up close,” Stiles looked as though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, his face mimicking a tomato. Lydia could only smile, knowing her eyes were always her Stiles’s favourite. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s not often I get complimented this much.” She smiled sweetly.

“Doesn’t Jackson compliment you?” Stiles frowned, he’d assumed their relationship was the typical popular high school couple, honeymoon phase all around. Lydia scoffed.

“Jackson...has his own shit going on. He doesn’t exactly have time to notice me.”

It felt weird confessing that out loud, knowing that really was how their relationship had been all those years ago. Lydia loved him, despite the fact she knew he was gay…that he had hook ups with guys here and there. It hurt her to know she was just his beard, but as long as she portrayed this perfect picture for everyone else, she dealt with it.

“You don’t deserve a douche bag like him.” Stiles muttered beneath his breath, knowing the old Lydia would turn her nose up at him for saying that. 

“Took me a long time to realize that.” She agreed, wishing she’d fell out of Jackson’s spell a lot earlier than she did. “I should’ve seen what was right in front of me.”

The pair seemed to share a silent exchange, both their hearts fluttering in their chests. The love Lydia felt for Stiles was unlike any of the love she’d felt for her past lovers. Lydia sighed, hauling herself to her feet.

“I’d best get to class, I’ll catch you guys later.”

[x]

Lydia walked down the corridor, she’d flew through her classes. She wasn’t sure if it was considered a cheat that she’d already gone through all of the paperwork and exams. But she hadn’t exactly asked to go back in time. It was the glimpse of dark curled hair that caught the corner of her eye. Her heart dropping to her stomach, it was as though all of the pain from three years ago came flooding back. Allison.

Without thinking Lydia was before the girl before she could stop herself. The urge to throw her arms around the brunette calling to her, but unlike with Stiles she fought it. This Allison didn’t know her yet, frightening her off wasn’t an option. Lydia forced on a fake smile, good at hiding her pain as always.

“Is that the new designer jacket from Gucci? Oh my god, I wish I could afford that.” 

The shy girl brushed her hair behind her ear, smiling awkwardly towards Lydia.

“Uh, yeah. My mom’s sort of into their stuff.” Lydia felt like crying, it had been years since she heard her best friends voice.

Lydia wasn’t sure if this dream or whatever the hell it was, was supposed to be some form or torture or heaven. Whatever it was, she was grateful to see Allison again, whether it was real or not. Only now she was carrying both the loss of her boyfriend and best friend. The dark thoughts seemed to cloud her mind, the redhead being pulled from her thoughts by Allison. Finding the brunette waving a hand in front of her face.

“Hey, you okay?” The concerned laced in Allison’s voice made Lydia give her a weak smile. Shaking herself back into her act.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts, but we should totally be best friends?” The ginger beamed, linking her arm through Allison’s with a chirpy bounce of happiness. The brunette closing her locker with her free hand, going along with her.

“Sure, why not?” Allison laughed shyly, as they turned both the girls eyes met two boys at their lockets further down the hall. Allison seemed to notice Lydia’s gaze. “Friends of yours?”

Lydia glanced up at her long lost friend, a small smile on her face. “Yeah, two of the best people I know actually…”

It felt like nostalgia being back where their adventure had started, Scott, Stiles, Allison and her all together again. How it was meant to be. Something within her broke, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this.

“The cute one? What’s his name?” Allison asked, eyes trained on the boys.

“The boy with the buzz cut, Stiles?” Allison seemed to raise a brow at the name, but Lydia quickly noted she’d meant Scott. The redheads cheeks blushing, “Oh, you mean Scott.”

Allison stayed quiet for a moment, “I met him earlier...he seems sweet.”

“I think the feelings mutual,” Lydia grinned, gesturing towards the boy that was now looking Allison’s way. “And now the love story begins.”

Allison blushed furiously nudging her, hating the attention. “Hey, you’re one to talk. Clearly this Stiles, means something to you.”

Lydia shook her head, the brunette was correct to assume so, but she simply smiled. “Time will tell, my friend. Time will tell.”

But little did Allison know Lydia knew how their story unfolded. Love, heartache and adventure awaiting them. Lydia started to walk towards the lovable pair of boys when she felt a pair of snake around her waist, tugging her into whomever it was. As if on instinct, Lydia performed a perfect martial arts move on the boy who was her current boyfriend. Her heart was racing as she backed off of the boy realising who it was, Lydia placed her hand over her mouth in shock.

“Jackson! Shit, sorry. Y-you scared me.”

The attention of every student in the hallway was on her, each of them bewildered by the sudden incident. Lydia extended a hand to help him up but the boy simply scoffed, shoving her hand aside, a scowl written across his expression.

“What the fuck, Lydia.”

The boy dusted himself down, wincing at the ache that ran through his body. Lydia kicked herself, Parrish’s lessons came in handy, but they also appeared like they were on auto-drive whenever anyone touched her. Stiles saw the exchange from afar, anger coursing through his exterior at how Jackson had swatted Lydia away. The scrawny freshman rushing over, standing protectively before the redhead.

“Dude, she said she was sorry.” He spoke up, Jackson took a step towards the boy as though to seem threatening.

Lydia knew what Jackson could be like, the girl slipping between the two men, a hand on both of their chests. 

“Let’s all just calm down, okay? It was an accident. You startled me, that’s all.”

Jackson huffed, glaring at Lydia with anger. “We’re over, Lydia. Sort your shit out.”

Lydia remained unfazed, she got over Jackson a long time ago. The woman rolling her eyes at the immature man, her eyes falling onto the worried brown eyed boy. A smile instantly finding her lips.

“I didn’t know you knew karate?” Stiles spoke up, looking down at the short girl.

“Martial arts.” She corrected, “I learned from an old friend of mine, guess it comes in handy sometimes.”

Stiles shuffled on his feet, looking over her shoulder noticing Scott was in some deep flustered conversation with Allison. A goofy grin on his face,

“Seems Scotty’s got a himself crush.”

Lydia watched the pair interact, the love blooming just as it had so long ago. “I ship it.”

Her words earned a loud laugh from Stiles, the man joining in, “I think they should have a name, just between us, how about...Scallison?”

“I like it, it’s got a ring to it.” Lydia chuckled lightly, her gaze returning to Stiles who met her as though they were in sync. 

Lydia felt like a school girl with a crush when she was around Stiles, she’d always tried to hide it but she couldn’t fight the attraction she felt towards him. Even with his bald head. He was still her Stiles, he cleared his throat, gesturing towards the double doors.

“You wanna, you know, go for a walk or whatever? Feel free to say no.” Stiles asked, looking as though he was preparing himself for rejection. 

The redheads heart fluttered, “I’d actually really love that.”

Lydia couldn’t read the boy before her, so many emotions flooding his expression. Happiness, confusion, excitement all wrapped into one. Stiles rubbed the nape of his neck with a innocent smile.

“Great!”

The pair walked out of the school, no teacher stood guard to tell them to head back inside. It wasn’t like missing a few classes would damage Lydia’s grades anyway. Comfortable silence hung between them as they walked, arms brushing from the close proximity, goosebumps running up Lydia’s arm every time they touched. Stiles was the first to speak up, breaking the silence between them.

“I didn’t even believe Scott when he said it was a werewolf…be honest with me, how did you know?”

Lydia pondered on telling him, seeing no harm, the worst that could happen is him thinking it was a joke.

“I...I’ve known about werewolves since I saved Jackson from the Kanima,” The redhead confessed, Stiles gave her an odd expression. Lydia sucked in a breath before she continued, “Scott was bitten by Peter, some asshole related to Derek Hale. From there Scott becomes a werewolf, he falls in love with Allison along the way, I know this sounds crazy...but I think, I think when I screamed when you died in my arms - brought me back here. Back to you.”

Stiles stood in ominous silence for a minute or two, debating whether to believe the woman he loved. It sounded ridiculous, she just so happened to be thrown back in time to when they first met. And yet it all pieced together, the way she noticed him, the way she looked, how her hair was straightened, longer and her face matured. This wasn’t the Lydia he knew.

“So...in the future I die...that kind of sucks.”

Lydia let out a breath of relief, thankful he believed her. “It was...one of the worst nights of my life.”

Stiles thought it over for a moment, shortly connecting the dots. His eyes suddenly sparkled with hope, a charming smile dancing across his face. 

“Were we…? Are we more than friends in the future?” His question was hesitant, as though he was afraid to ask...maybe to know the answer.

Lydia bowed her head with a smile, “I loved you more than I’d ever loved anyone.”

The words that fell from her lips seemed to knock the air from Stiles’s lungs. All his life, since he’d known the red haired girl, he’d been waiting for the day she returned the love he held for her. Stiles found himself jealous of his future self, to have Lydia all to himself. To get to hear her say she loved him, to sleep beside her, to hold her close whenever she was afraid. Stiles longed for that life.

Before Lydia knew what was happening Stiles crashed his lips into hers, it took her by surprise but less than a second later she responded with the same amount of passion, pulling the boy close. Lydia found herself lost in the kiss, her mind, body and soul all focused on Stiles. The way he held her so gently, the way he kissed her with such fire and affection, his thick shaggy brown hair, those puppy dog brown eyes...that’s when a wave coursed through her body and everything turned black.

[x]

Lydia felt a rush of déjà vu, waking from the darkness, a surge of pain running through her head. She internally groaned, she swore there was nothing more that she hated than a migraine. The redhead head held her head, blinking a few times to get rid of her blurred vision, it wasn’t until then that she heard Melissa’s voice.

“Lydia?! Lydia, hey, can you hear me?”

The girl all but groaned a response, “Where am I?”

“Beacon Hills memorial. Can you tell me the last thing you recall?” The brunette asked, fussing over Lydia as though she’d been in some sort of accident.

“M-me and Stiles...why the hell am I in a hospital?” 

It was quiet for a moment, Lydia looking up to meet Melissa’s concerned brown eyes. “Stiles was shot by an arrow...don’t you remember?”

Lydia’s eyes widened at her words. The woman leapt out of the hospital bed she’d been apparently lying in and was on her feet in seconds. Stiles wasn’t dead. Melissa held up her hands, placing them on Lydia’s shoulders, keeping her from racing out of the room.

“Whoa, slow down. Scott’s with him. You’ve been unconscious for a couple of days, Lydia.” Melissa informed her, easing the girls worries for a moment. If Stiles was in pain, at least Scott could help ease it. “That scream knocked you out, Scott found you three in time. Stiles and Bret had been rushed into surgery, they’re in recovery now. He’s been asking about you.”

Lydia sat quickly at the edge of the bed for a moment, thinking about kissing Stiles. It must’ve been some sort of...unconscious reality. Lydia sighed, glancing up at Melissa, tears welling in her eyes as she remembered the pain that harboured in her chest. 

“I need to see him...please Melissa.”

Melissa nodded, she’d been hearing those exact words from Stiles since the moment he’d regained consciousness. The curly haired woman gestured to the door, holding it open for the redhead to head through. Lydia couldn’t settle the bundle of nerves that were in a knot in her stomach, the last time she saw Stiles, the real Stiles. He was bleeding out in her arms, before she knew it Melissa was pushing open a door that led to Stiles’s room. 

Lydia stood in the doorway, feet seemingly glued to the floor as she looked at him. The boys brown eyes finding her the second she came into his sight. She’d never seen his face glow with such happiness and relief, except when he’d got her safely from Eichen. Tears burned in her eyes as she let all of her emotions free, he was okay. His hair scruffy, his face paler than usual from the loss of blood, but he was alive.

“Lydia, thank god.” His voice was hoarse, rough from lack of sleep no doubt. 

The boy’s voice seemed to break her trance, the redhead rushing to her boyfriend’s side, taking his hand in hers. Tears trickling down her cheeks, Stiles smiled softly, he knew how she felt, he’d thought the scream had threw her into some kind of coma. He thought he’d lost her just as she thought she’d lost him. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping the tears staining her face.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” Stiles told her, hating to see her so upset. Lydia let out a strangled laugh, heart faltering.

“I thought you were dead.”

Lydia’s voice broke, struggling to keep herself together. The ginger hesitantly climbed into the hospital bed, making sure her hospital gown didn’t ride up, curling up beside Stiles. Lydia’s head resting on his chest, her eyes fluttering shut as she listened to his heartbeat. Stiles held her close, trying to let her know he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m right here, Lydia.” The messy haired boy assured her, “I’m not going anywhere. I waited so long to be with you, you think I’d leave you now?”

Lydia arched her neck to meet Stiles’s gaze, her eyes flickering down to his lips, the boy noting the lingering stare, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“When they told me you were here too, that you were unconscious for some unknown reason,” Stiles started, “I almost lost it...I’ve almost lost you more times than I can count, they wouldn’t let me see you. Arrow wound and all. I had to make Scott promise to keep an eye on you.”

“I didn’t even know where I was...it was like I was in some weird dream. You were there, Allison and Scott too,” Lydia said, wondering if she had somehow gone insane. “Part of me wished it was real, because it would’ve meant you were still alive. But...even then, I knew I’d rather be with you. Here, now...just like this.”

Despite the sharp pain in his chest from the wound, Stiles reached down planting a adoring kiss on her temple. Smirking in amusement as he watched Lydia’s cheeks flush scarlet. The redhead tightening her hold on his hand.

“I love you with everything in me, Stiles. I really truly love you.”

As his heart raced with happiness, he smiled. “I’ve loved you since I could remember and I’ll love until my last dying breath.”

Okay so I absolutely LOVED writing this one shot, I hope @petrichorblue94 and all my other readers love it as much as I do! Thank you for the amazing request too!! :) A big thank you to my wonderful girlfriend @jaguarslegion for helping me on the parts I was stuck on. Thank you for reading, you can also find this on my ao3 > LoverOfCoffee

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Forever [M] (Destined Series)

Summary: You thought now that your soulmate Jinyoung was back in your world, things would become instantly a happily ever after. You weren’t expecting the transition to being with your destined partner to come with so many new challenges along the way.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader (ft. Mark Tuan)

Genre: soulmate au / romance / angst / smut (18+ content)

Warnings: smut, cursing, difficult pasts, angsty arguments

A/N: So the final puzzle piece of the Destined series is now complete! This story won’t make sense without reading Destined and To Love You, so if you haven’t read them already, they are linked just below.

Series Index: Destined // To Love You // Forever [M]

Word count: 9567

When you first met your soulmate, well, you kind of hated him. You weren’t ready to let go of the life you had hoped for with your best friend Mark, and then when you discovered just how prickly Park Jinyoung’s personality was, you felt as if you had been ill-fated. He had even made it clear at the time that his destiny didn’t have you in it.

So why was it that you couldn’t get enough of him now?

Five years had passed and with an uncanny twist of fate, you broke your leg and ended up in the arms of Jinyoung again. Sure, being a doctor and all, it made sense that Jinyoung would find you again in the hospital he worked at. But you hadn’t expected after your last unfortunate encounter with the handsome man that he would be now begging to taste more of you.

You had become addicted to Park Jinyoung faster than you had anything in your life. It wasn’t just a physical addiction either. You craved to know more about him in every way possible. Sure, he had told you a lot over the past four days. He’d even taken time off work just to nurse you around the clock. Something like this would have been so unfathomable to you if you didn’t crave his attention day and night. He definitely was no longer a stranger to you.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Jinyoung admitted as he held you in his arms, running his hand up and down your arm. He chuckled, seemingly surprised by whatever he was thinking. “I don’t think I’ve stopped working, ever.”

“You never took a holiday?” you questioned and the raven haired man shook his head. “Not even one week off?”

“I worked hard my whole life,” he told you, looking haunted. He smiled weakly at you. “Especially after I let you go.”

You couldn’t avoid discussing the five years where you lived as if you didn’t know your soulmate existed, even if some of the content made you both struggle. It hadn’t been easy, your decision. Whilst you had lived in somewhat of a state of ignorant bliss, Jinyoung hadn’t. It surprised you to learn he had been searching for you for the past three years.

You ached over those years wasted apart more than the pain within your broken leg.

“I’m here now,” you reassured, hoping the warmth would return to his eyes. You cupped Jinyoung’s face in your hands, leaning forward to kiss him. Just like the first time you had kissed, the burst of arousal enveloped you thick and fast and what you had hoped to be an endearing and soft gesture soon grew into you both panting and gripping at each other for more. Mark had always told you that kissing your soulmate was never as simple as kissing someone else. You had been miffed back then, knowing you had shared multiple make-out sessions with your best friend in the past that you had enjoyed. Now though, you fully understood the giddy grin Mark had on his face whenever he talked about his soulmate Sera. You were certain when you finally pulled away from Jinyoung’s mouth that you resembled something similar.

“I’m never letting you go,” Jinyoung uttered, his grip firm around you. It made you nod, knowing you wouldn’t let him go anywhere without you now.

“Let’s stop talking about the heavier topics, hm? We have the rest of our lives to catch up on it all. I want to know something simpler. What was your favourite thing about your childhood?”

Jinyoung swallowed, his gaze falling away from yours. You cringed, remembering the explanation that his childhood hadn’t been the easiest since there had been a tragedy within his family. He hadn’t told you more yet, and as you watched him grapple with thinking of something to answer with, you knew the pain ran deep. Smiling, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek. He glanced back at you and chuckled. “When I was really young, I had a thing for proving I was right about everything.”

“Don’t you still have that trait?” you teased and Jinyoung feigned annoyance.

“I remember I used to attempt to outdo this kid down the street. He was much taller than I was, even though he was three years younger. Yugyeom naturally did a lot more physical activities than I did, and one year he challenged me to a dance battle.”

“You dance?!” you asked with glee and Jinyoung shook his head.

“I didn’t know the first thing about dance and that’s why Yugyeom challenged me. It was the one thing I couldn’t do that he could really well.”

“So you failed miserably then?” you assumed sadly and Jinyoung smiled. You could tell he was reliving some kind of victory in his memories.

“I won.”

“But you just said you couldn’t dance.”

“I couldn’t, not then. But Yugyeom just thought I would turn up to the battle with basic moves. I took lessons and learned how to dance. I guess that’s when I realised I could do anything I put my mind to.”

It was strange to admire something about Jinyoung that had happened to him when you didn’t even know he existed. Yet, your heart swelled with pride and you clapped your hands together happily. “Can you still dance now? I want to see!”

“God, no. I don’t think I danced again after that battle.”

“Then why did you put in all that effort?” you asked, knowing if there was no long-term value to something in your life, you rarely put in as much effort as Jinyoung had described. You liked that he was different from you. It was as if you were learning more about life through another person’s experiences.

“Because it meant I would succeed.” Jinyoung’s gaze turned dark again and then he blinked rapidly, dissolving the mood altogether and slipped his arms away from you. “I think it’s time I go make us something to eat, don’t you?”

You nodded softly, allowing Jinyoung the chance to retreat from talking for now. Although you hadn’t known him long, you could tell there was a side of Jinyoung that he was hesitant to share with you just yet.

When you admitted to everyone you had found your soulmate, they were shocked. After all, it was deemed a miracle if anyone found their destined partner if they were older than thirty. At thirty-three, your parents had long given up hope of you settling down with anyone. And Mark had been surprised until you mentioned Jinyoung’s name.

“You lied,” he said over the phone and sighed. “I knew there was more to it but I was too wrapped up in Sera’s recovery back then. Y/N, you knew you had a soulmate for five years! Why did you act like you didn’t?”

“Does it matter now? The main thing is Jinyoung and I have found each other again.”

“He’s not a jerk is he?”

“Hey!” you cried, feeling an overwhelming defensive mood wash over you. “Watch who you’re talking about!”

“Well, you can’t blame me. The last time you mentioned that doctor’s name, you were crying that you had been wrong. You owe me a lot of information.”

You groaned. “I’ll fill you in one day but I just wanted to let you know how I am.”

“I’m glad he was there to help you at the hospital but why do I feel so bitter towards this guy? He’s going to take you away from me.”

“Mark, I thought the same about Sera, but look at us now.”

“Sera is so sweet though!”

“And Jinyoung is absolutely amazing,” you countered, listening to Mark’s laugh filling the call. You couldn’t help but relax again. “You sound happy.”

“That should be my line to you, Y/N. This is the happiest you’ve sounded in years and you have a broken leg for goodness sake!”

“Who has a broken leg? Y/N?!” you heard Sera’s voice in the background and then there was an obvious switch of who was on the receiving end. “Y/N, are you okay?!”

“Of course I am, I’m not dying, it’s just a broken leg.”

“And she has a handsome doctor soulmate nursing her back to health too.”

Sera squealed and you pulled the phone away from your ear. “When can we meet him? Is he there?”

“Jinyoung went home to grab some belongings to return back with.”

“He’s been staying there?!” she breathed and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at her reaction. You never thought telling your best friends about Jinyoung could be so fulfilling. “Okay, we’ll just finish dinner and then come over!”

“What, why?”

Sera giggled. “To check up on you, of course!”

You ended the call and sat there in a panic. You didn’t care about your friends seeing you in your pyjamas with your hair a mess; they had seen you like that countless times. But you weren’t ready for them to meet Jinyoung like this. You had hoped that you could go on an outing, maybe out for dinner and meet in a more civilised manner. One in which you had explained and arranged it first with Jinyoung.

Your widened gaze snapped to the front door that you could hear your passcode being entered into. After knowing Jinyoung now for over a week, you hadn’t hesitated to give him the code so he could come and go as he pleased, but right now you wanted to rush to the door and tell him to go back home. Even though the thought stabbed at your chest to be separated from him, you wanted to save him from this unexpected visit. But you couldn’t. You stared at your cast on your leg helplessly.

“Baby, I’m back.” You barely looked up at Jinyoung, the usual flutter of his easily used nickname dull in comparison within your predicament. He approached you on the sofa and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“You need to leave!”

Jinyoung visibly faltered. “W-why?”

“My best friends are on their way here because I was stupid to ring Mark and tell him about my injury and then talking about you just happened to slip out, and then his wife overheard and Sera is lovely but she needs to be in the happenings of everything and as soon as she heard the word soulmate she was ready to grab her bag and get here. Oh my god, they’re probably almost here already! You should go.”

Jinyoung blinked slowly before he sat down beside you, wrapping you in his arms tightly. “Don’t ever say that to me again.”

“Huh?” You were distracted and trying to tap him to get off of you so you could usher him out of your apartment.

“You told me to leave,” he repeated and you ceased your actions, your arms falling limp at your side. Jinyoung pulled away and shook his head at you disapprovingly. “You’re so dramatic, you know that? I thought you were panicking about something major.”

“You didn’t ask to meet my friends tonight!”

“No, but I have to meet them and I want to meet them. Just like I want you to meet Jaebum and Kat too. You’re worked up for no real reason.” He clucked his tongue at you, still reliving your hasty words. “Never again, okay? You don’t know what kind of pain that caused me.”

You flushed with colour, feeling foolish. Over the past week, you had experienced a lot of highs and lows from sentences or feelings you had within Jinyoung’s company. You realised that the way you could be with other people and the way everything entwined between you and your soulmate was vastly different. Something so mindless could be quite hard to deal with now. Jinyoung smiled comfortingly, running his thumb lightly over your reddened cheek. “Why are you so beautiful?”

“Don’t, I hurt your feelings,” you mumbled and Jinyoung grinned.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he informed you, leaning over to kiss you. You whined as you bumped your heads together suddenly when there was a knock at the front door and Jinyoung gave you a meek smile before he got up and answered it.

You had expected it to be awkward and uncomfortable but an hour into Mark and Sera’s visit; Jinyoung had charmed Sera and easily chatted with Mark. Sejeong, their daughter had eventually gotten over her initial shyness and approached Jinyoung, poking him gently.

“What is it?” he asked and the little girl giggled behind her hand.

“Do you like my Aunt?”

“Sejeong, we don’t ask questions like that!” Mark chided but Jinyoung leaned forward, beckoning the small girl closer. He whispered something in her ear and you watched as her face lit up, her dark eyes darting to look at you for a moment. She then grinned and nodded at Jinyoung.

You didn’t know you could be jealous of a three year old until then.

When everyone left with promises to catch up again soon, you glanced at Jinyoung curiously. “What did you tell Sejeong before?”

“Hm?” Jinyoung’s smile grew but he didn’t answer you right away, instead was fussing with your bedding so you could get into it. You didn’t budge when he gestured for you to hobble over and Jinyoung smirked. “It’s a secret between Sejeongie and me.”

“Couples shouldn’t have secrets,” you announced and Jinyoung’s lips curled up further. “Stop smiling like the Cheshire cat and tell me, Jinyoung!”

“We’re a couple?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course we are, you wouldn’t be here in my home if I didn’t want to be with you.”

“We’ve never really officiated it out loud. Sure, our actions show it but this is the first time you’ve acknowledged I’m more than someone you have a connection with.”

“Do you know just how romantic you always sound? I’m the dramatic, frazzled type and you’re so damn eloquent with everything you say. It drives me mad.”

Jinyoung moved over to you, taking you in his arms as he smiled down at you. “Does it really?”

“Yes, you really bother me,” you admitted, your eyes now gazing at his luscious lips.

Jinyoung kissed you with a hunger that you hadn’t been quite prepared for. Somewhere within the embrace, you were hoisted up into his arms and you blindly travelled over to your bed, Jinyoung laying you down on the bedding before he hovered over you, his hands roaming to the edge of your bed shirt. You felt them slip under and touch you for the first time, a moan of desire leaving you as you his fingers burned all the way down to your soul. You arched your back and crashed your lips back on his fervently.

And then Jinyoung yanked away, panting too heavily, his hands that had been making your mind swirl with pleasure now raised up in front of him defensively.

“We can’t.”

You nodded in encouragement. “We can.”

“As much as I want this, and want you, I…” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s not time yet.”

“Are you worried about my leg?”

He nodded, though you could see something else was guarding him from the intimacy. You sighed, sitting up dejectedly. “Not tonight?”

“Not tonight,” he confirmed.

“Will you at least lay with me?” you begged, patting the empty spot beside you. Every night so far Jinyoung had either gone home and arrived before you woke up, or slept out on your little sofa. You hated that the most and knowing that was his plan for tonight, you wanted to keep him close. Especially since he would be returning to work next week, you hoped to have as much of Jinyoung as you could. You were greedy, you knew that much. But it wasn’t as if Jinyoung himself hadn’t expressed similar desires either. Sharing a bed couldn’t be that hard for either of you.

“After what just happened do you really think it’s safe?” he asked heavily. You pouted and he groaned. “Don’t emphasise your lips to me, I’m already craving them again.”

“I promise I won’t push for more than just snuggles and kisses,” you compromised and Jinyoung cursed before looking at you pointedly.

“Y/N, it’s not you who I’m worried about, it’s me.”

“Just get in the bed, Jinyoung. I want to fall asleep in your arms for a change.”

He eyed you warily but nodded, shifting over to the spare side of your bed and laid down. You instantly moved into his side. This wasn’t anything new. You had shared this bed during the day as you watched things on your laptop or when you both got lost in your own worlds of literature.

But when he stretched up to turn off the light and the room fell into darkness, you knew things were decidedly better tonight. You already felt your slumber reach out for you with ease. You wondered if you would both have the best sleep of your lives. Even with the glowing embers of arousal in the pit of your stomach, you relaxed into your new position. Jinyoung seemed to as well.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in answer.

“I told Sejeong I was going to marry you one day.”

You smiled lazily, nestling further into his side. You didn’t think you would ever get used to Jinyoung or his beautiful words and all the emotions you experienced because of them.

The front door code was pressed in and Jinyoung stepped inside the apartment, placing down his briefcase just in time to hug Sejeong as she went to greet him excitedly. He chuckled. “Did you take good care of my girl?”

The little girl nodded proudly and Jinyoung gasped, his face lighting up with satisfaction. “Did you really?!”

“I made sure she didn’t move an inch!”

“She really did,” you called out tiredly, glancing at Sera who smiled knowingly with you. Ever since breaking your leg, there were two people who had been incredibly obsessed with making sure you didn’t do anything. And they were currently hugging one another in your entryway. Jinyoung picked Sejeong up and walked over to your spot on the sofa. Even though you were frustrated by your predicament, you never got used to seeing Jinyoung for the first time in your day. It was like you were seeing him for the first time all over again, and you felt the yearning in your chest completely evaporate. It had only been two weeks now, yet you felt like an eternity had passed. As if Jinyoung had always been in your life.

“Well, since you’re here, Sejeong and I will go see if Mark’s home from work yet or not,” Sera mentioned, taking Sejeong from Jinyoung and placing her down on the ground.  “Shall we go find Daddy?!”

“Uh, okay,” Sejeong agreed distantly, Sera giving you both a quizzical look as she gently guided her daughter to the front door. Sejeong reappeared, smiling brightly. “Bye Uncle Jinyoung!”

“Bye Sejeongie,” he called with a grin and then turned to you. “Uncle Jinyoung?”

“Don’t look at me; she’s been talking about you all day long in between telling me I can’t even go to the bathroom.” You sighed heavily and Jinyoung smirked, finally taking a seat on the edge of the sofa arm and leaning down to kiss you. It ignited all your senses and you whined when he pulled away, wanting to taste more of him.

You had been kissing each other a lot over the past two weeks, though lately, Jinyoung was pulling away much too early for your liking. You pouted as he went to move away altogether and you grabbed onto his arm. “I wasn’t done.”

“How about I make some dinner,” he offered, and you shook your head. Jinyoung chuckled. “We need to eat.”

“We can eat later. You’ve been at the hospital all day and you didn’t stay over last night. I want to catch up with you.”

It still surprised you just how needy you had become for Jinyoung’s attention. You craved him when you were apart and were forever ignited with lust when he was around. All it took was one look in your direction and you would feel your arousal start roaring within you. You didn’t exactly want to admit you were love-drunk and had little regard for any routine in life. All you needed was Jinyoung.

And Jinyoung was normally unable to keep himself off of you too. But ever since the other night when you fell asleep in his arms, he had been distant, restraining himself as if he couldn’t kiss you too much in case things went south. You wouldn’t mind if they did, and so you were hurt and confused by his avoidance.

“What do you feel like eating?” he continued and you stared at Jinyoung, feeling yourself turn angry. You were surprised by how quickly the emotion rose.

“Nothing.”

He blinked at your tone and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s what I’d like to ask you, Jinyoung. Why don’t you want to be close to me?”

“You’re kidding right?” he asked exasperatedly, suddenly worked up himself. “You’re all I think of these days. How could you question that?”

“Then why do you pull back all the time? And since the other night, you’ve started sleeping at home-”

“Because I’m back at work,” he said curtly, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. You scrambled for your crutches and hauled yourself up to your feet.

“We’re supposed to be in this heavenly, cannot get enough of each other stage right now but you keep stopping it!”

“If I don’t, will you hold back from me? You’re injured right now and your leg needs to rest. Which is why you should be on the sofa and not standing!”

You glared at him, shaking your head. “There’s something coming between us, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me.”

A flash of panic crossed his face before Jinyoung grew irritated. He pointed to the sofa. “Go and sit, I’ll make dinner.”

“We’re having our first argument, you’re aware right?” You suddenly felt tears fill your eyes at your statement, blinking rapidly. You weren’t normally so easily rendered emotional like this. You wondered if it was another soulmate factor or the fact that you were still on some pretty decent painkillers. Either way, Jinyoung crumbled when he saw the first tear spill down your cheek, rushing over to scoop the next that followed.

“No no no, don’t cry,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t help but cry then, unable to dissolve the pain you felt from hearing his tone turn hoarse as he battled his own emotions. You clung to Jinyoung as you sobbed, feeling exhausted when he finally sat you back down on the sofa. You were certain that your tears had been for more than just the trivial fight that just happened, coming from an ingrained part of you that yearned to know what bothered him so much. You had cried because you worried about him, and you wanted him to feel at ease around you. It also came from the realisation of just how much time you had both truly lost with your previous separation.

Jinyoung smiled weakly, brushing the remnants of his own emotions away. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“More than just what our connection tells you to?” he added and you thought for a moment before you confirmed again. Jinyoung relaxed visibly. “I don’t want you to ever think I’m not right for you.”

You remembered back to that destructive dinner meeting where you had told him there had been a mistake in your matching. It made you bite down on your lip as another wave of emotions hit you. Jinyoung smiled and reached for your face gently, nodding knowingly. “We both said some really cruel things to each other back then.”

“I didn’t realise that everything we’ve been through could make us like this. I feel like the complexity of being someone’s soulmate isn’t discussed enough in society. I’m forever overwhelmed over things that wouldn’t bother me with anyone else.”

Jinyoung nodded. “It’s not as easy as we imagined huh? Everyone tells you it’s an endless land of harmony. Where everything works out perfectly.”

“And it mostly has been,” you admitted, smiling lightly as you rested your open palms on his chest. “I keep forgetting we’re only two weeks into this relationship. It feels like years.”

“Technically, it has been, though most of that we spent alone.” Jinyoung sighed and brushed your hair away from your face. “I want to tell you everything but I need time, okay?”

You nodded before you buried back into him, knowing you would wait for as long as you had to for Jinyoung to open his heart up to you fully.

When you stopped trying so hard to understand what was stuck between you and Jinyoung, things seemed to settle. Another week went by, your days were spent at home with Sera and Sejeong, and then Jinyoung turned up in the evening, looking after you until you fell asleep and started the routine all over again. As much as there were a lot of good things happening, you were incredibly bored. So when your physiotherapy appointments were ready to begin, you had been more than excited. You hadn’t realised how much you took for granted as an able-bodied person until now.

Since the hospital had organised your rehabilitation plan, it meant you went to their physiotherapy centre. You had been anxious to return to the institute as it was the place so many pivotal moments had occurred. You lost your first love with Mark with Sera’s accident and gained your soulmate within these halls. You had organised your dinner meeting with Jinyoung in the hospital too. And after that went horribly, you vowed you would never step foot in this building again. That was until you were recently rushed in with your incident unconscious. And in that small hospital room that you spent two days recovering from a concussion and your broken leg, you had learned that Jinyoung didn’t hate you like you had thought all this time.

The hospital, therefore, was a pretty overwhelming environment for you.

“Are you okay hobbling all the way to the department?” Mark asked, watching you carefully. You shot him a grateful smile as you huffed a little with all the exertion. He groaned and pointed to a stranded wheelchair. “Are you sure you don’t want to go in one of them, this is the most you’ve walked in awhile since we’ve already been to your x-ray appointment too.”

“Don’t take my independence away from me, Mark. I’ve been cooped up for too long, it’s time to do more than sit and watch drama reruns all day long with Sera.”

“That sounds like bliss,” he murmured and you rolled your eyes. Mark chuckled. “If you could do that all day long with Jinyoung, would you?”

“I’d rather read. Sera is too impatient for the literary world so dramas with her it is.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that slight dig even though I completely agree with you,” he shot back with a grin and then pointed to the signage up ahead. “Good, we’re almost there.”

After signing in, you were left waiting for your appointment. Mark had excused himself to the cafeteria while you were there, taking his lunch break now so he didn’t have to stay back later at work when he returned. You were just greeting your physiotherapist when you saw someone striding through the department in a white coat, your eyes widening a little when Jinyoung stopped at your side. “Am I late?”

“Doctor Park?” the therapist questioned and Jinyoung leaned down and kissed you gently on the cheek. A few of the staff gasped as you turned red. You knew this was going to be the biggest hospital gossip for the rest of the week. Cursing inwardly, you initially hoped you could change to one of the physiotherapy clinics near your apartment to avoid it all. What made you even more intrigued was there was a very small part of you that was elated with his obvious outing of your status. You normally didn’t thrive on attention, and yet, having everyone look at you as Jinyoung’s significant other felt kind of wonderful.

That sensation was short lived. As your therapist started the treatment session with you, it was naturally painful. You hadn’t moved your leg for a few weeks actively and you were now being shown exercises to help you regain strength. As a fairly clumsy child, you knew what to expect from such a session. It was Jinyoung who was the problem. Every time you whined with the strain or yelped in pain, he would visibly lurch forward, his hands gripping to the base of his chair so he wouldn’t interrupt. You could see him wrestling with his emotions, even glaring at your therapist at one point because of the exercise she made you attempt sprung tears to your eyes. You felt sorry for her, knowing it was her job to ask this much of you, and Jinyoung was staring her down as if she was dealing with someone incredibly fragile. Broken leg or not, you weren’t in any danger.

After being told you needed to get your cast renewed since your x-rays showed your leg was healing well, you thanked your therapist and got up onto your crutches, slowly hobbling out of the department. You felt incredibly weak from the appointment and it showed when you clumsily moved forward and misjudged your balance. Jinyoung’s grip was instantly around you, sending flames across your skin from his touch. He sighed heavily. “Did you not think to use a wheelchair?”

“I didn’t want one,” you grumbled but Jinyoung returned into the department for one, making you sit in it and took your crutches away. You had to admit being stubborn wasn’t helping and the relief from sitting as he wheeled you through the hospital halls was appreciated. You soon realised that Jinyoung wasn’t taking you to the cafeteria where you had mentioned Mark was waiting for you or off to the bone shop for your new cast. You frowned. “Where are we going?”

“I need to collect some files from my desk; I didn’t have enough time to grab them before your appointment.”

You smiled up at him. “You didn’t have to come, I was fine.”

“I won’t come again,” he announced, heaving another heavy breath. “I can’t handle it.”

You giggled, knowing it took a lot of courage for Jinyoung to admit he had struggled. You nodded and settled back into the chair for the rest of your ride. In the wheelchair, you seemed more like a patient than anything else so no one seemed to mind you being with the handsome doctor, though when you entered the apartment, an older nurse got up from her desk and clapped her hands together in glee. You then remembered her from when you had stayed in the hospital. She grinned. “Well if it isn’t the lovebirds! How’s your leg doing darling? I heard you had physio today.”

“It’s getting better, thank you.”

“It’s me who had the problems watching,” Jinyoung admitted to the nurse and she smiled knowingly. You didn’t realise just how loose-lipped Jinyoung was around his colleagues and it surprised you. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes, Misun. I just need to grab some files and then take this one off to meet with our friend.”

“You actually have a guest waiting in your office, Jinyoung. It’s your mother.”

You had talked about meeting your respective parents recently, both wanting to give time to your relationship before thrusting one another in front of your families. Jinyoung had been particularly hesitant to take you to his family, yet within this current predicament, he simply thanked the nurse and started towards his office.

“Do you want me to wait here?” you offered quietly but Jinyoung kept pushing you. He didn’t answer and soon you were in front of his office door. You had been excited to see his space before, now you were terrified. You didn’t want his mother to dislike you in any way.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Jinyoung asked as he opened the door, wheeling you inside. The older woman was instantly excited to fuss over her son but it was caught short when she realised he had wheeled in a chair with someone in it.

“Oh my goodness, Jinyoung I had this feeling I needed to see you and it was so urgent that I decided to come to the hospital immediately. You seem perfectly fine but my apologies, you have a patient?”

You didn’t know what to answer with and looked away, now noticing his mother wasn’t alone. You spotted a small child a little older than Sejeong sitting on a chair next to Jinyoung’s mother’s bag, staring back at you with round eyes. You smiled lightly, and he grinned.

“Mum, I was meaning to tell you that I have some big news, but it’s been a little busy and-”

“I’m Jinyoung’s soulmate, Y/N.”

His mother burst into tears, rushing to your side and hugging you instantly. “Really?!”

“Yes Mum, it wasn’t intentional to keep it from you but-”

His mother looked at you, grasping your face in her hands delightedly. “We never thought he would ever meet someone, Y/N. Look at you, you’re just simply beautiful. But you have a broken leg? Come, let’s you and I not harass the busy doctor anymore and go have a nice cup of tea!”

“No, we’ll come for dinner tonight. You can’t expect Jindae to just sit there whilst you babble on for hours. Y/N has an appointment to get to and a friend waiting on her.”

“Dinner then,” she confirmed, leaning in to kiss your cheek and asking the little boy to hop up and greet his Uncle before they left.

When the door closed, you had so many more questions for Jinyoung.

Dinner with Jinyoung’s parents went well. It wasn’t heavy in content, instead, they welcomed you graciously. Jindae had clung to you for a lot of the evening and although Jinyoung was initially put out by his nephew’s avid attention on you, it was evident in his gaze that he was enamoured by seeing you with the child. You felt similar whenever the little boy moved onto Jinyoung. You could already see Jinyoung with your own children in the future and it made you so giddy that you didn’t press for any of the missing details when he dropped you home that evening. He avoided it over the next couple of days, insisting he met your parents now too and even planned an outing with Mark, Sera and Sejeong so Jindae could make a new friend. Jinyoung’s parents were ecstatic, much like yours were, and you could hear the low chime of wedding bells whenever you were around them.

Although you had wanted to get out of the apartment, you were finding yourself more exhausted these days, and it worked in Jinyoung’s favour to escape anything he knew you wanted to ask. You had really been enjoying your time with him and your families too and didn’t want to make him feel frustrated if you tried to press him for information.

Still, you didn’t like sitting in the dark about things.

“I always wondered what it would be like to go out with you when you had a partner!” Sera said happily in greeting when you arrived at the park for the picnic you planned for Saturday. She hugged you tightly after assisting you with getting out of the car. When you turned to open the back door and help Jindae out, Sera swooned. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little guy?! Do you want to come with me, my daughter Sejeong is very excited to make a new friend today.”

“I really like Sera, but her energy some days,” Jinyoung mentioned softly in your ear and you grinned up at him, shrugging lightly before hobbling along.

“I find her infectious.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes into your outing when both kids started to complain. “Mummy, I’m sweaty!”

“I don’t feel good,” Jindae mentioned and you turned to him, concerned. “My heart is moving fast!”

“Mine too!” Sejeong chimed and the kids giggled.

You frowned, whilst Mark and Jinyoung seemed to share a knowing expression.

“What?” you asked and Jinyoung smirked.

“Just wait a little longer.”

“What for, why are you keeping us in the dark?” Sera looked at Mark with a pout and he chuckled, pulling his wife into his arms. He then reached out for Jinyoung and shook his hand. They laughed and you groaned, turning your focus back to the children to try and decipher what they had already.

They were now sitting next to each other, playing with the toys scattered on the blanket, when Jindae reached for the truck Sejeong had just grabbed. They both flinched at the contact and stared at one another wide-eyed.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, looking up at Jinyoung for silent confirmation. He grinned and snuggled into your side.

“If only we had met at a younger age too, huh? It must be nice to know who you’re going to marry as a child before the world can get a hold of you.”

You were stunned, and Sera started shrieking, telling Mark she wasn’t ready for her daughter to have her own soulmate.

The concept of soulmates was so intricate that you knew you would never get your head around it.

Once Sera calmed down and stopped trying to get the kids to not hold hands, the picnic had gone really well. You were proud of Jindae and how he handled being told in basic terms about what a soulmate was in the car and when he ran inside to tell his Grandparents the good news, you had felt like you had played some part in making his little life that much sweeter. You knew he would become someone special to you from that moment on too.

You were so overwhelmed with all your feelings that when Jinyoung got back into the car and started the engine, you turned in your chair to face him. “Take me somewhere.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked, reaching for your hand and linking it with his. He then lifted it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the back of your hand. “I’ll take you anywhere; just tell me where to go.”

“Can I see your house?” you wondered and Jinyoung smiled, nodding softly. You didn’t realise just how much you wanted to see the home he owned until you were pulling up into the driveway. It seemed crazy to think of how you fit into your tiny one bedroom apartment whilst he lived alone in such a big house like this. You gasped as you stared out the window in amazement.

Jinyoung helped you out of the car and inside his home, a little awkward at your obvious awe. You took in the entryway and then the living area it opened up into, your hand grabbing onto the back of the plush sofa to balance on as you looked around. “It’s nothing much, Y/N, but I like it.”

“Nothing much?” you echoed, shaking your head softly. “How you put up with my tiny box of a home when you had all this…”

“Do you like it?” You nodded earnestly. “Really?”

“Is it weird to think I could see myself living here?” Jinyoung stared at you then, his expression desperate. You turned to look at the décor and at the kitchen up ahead. It looked so clean you wondered how much he had actually used it. In fact, his whole home looked that way. It was comfortable but not truly lived in. You could see how the energy would change if you were here, and suddenly you yearned for it. It was crazy, you had only known Jinyoung for four weeks now, but you wanted this already. Your parents craved a wedding, and well, you wanted it all to start now. Moving in would be the most logical next step.

Jinyoung moved in behind you and encased you within his arms, kissing along your neck gently. It made you throw your head back onto his shoulder and the angle allowed him to place a chaste kiss on your lips before he smiled. “Will you move in with me?”

“How soon can I?” you asked giddily, Jinyoung groaning at your needy response and tightening his hold on you to steady his emotions.

“Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

He showed you every room. There were four bedrooms in total, one he had converted into a study. You were in there now, taking in his medical textbooks along the far wall. Slowly you looked at everything, your eyes then falling to a photo frame. You had already seen it before, in his parent’s home. You picked it up and looked at the photo, Jinyoung’s parents were there with him and so was a teenage girl. She was beautiful and looked just like his mother. You had assumed she had died but knowing Jindae was Jinyoung’s nephew, you were struggling to put the pieces together.

“That’s my sister,” he announced softly, and you smiled at him.

“She’s beautiful.”

“She was,” he agreed and directed you to his desk chair, sitting up on the table beside you. He held the frame in his hand and smiled distantly. “She was everything to me. The best older sister. One time she even beat up some boys twice her size because they picked on me. At the time I hated her for it, but now I look back at it as one of my fondest memories of her. She was so brave and bold. Everything I wasn’t.”

“You loved her dearly.”

Jinyoung nodded and turned his gaze to you. His expression was vulnerable and you blinked, reaching out to touch him. He grabbed your hand and started to tremble. “The reason I turned you away five years ago was because of her.”

“Why?”

“My sister isn’t dead, I’m sure you’ve gathered that much since we have Jindae. He is her child. She came a year after I messed things up with you and abandoned him with us. She claimed he needed a better life than what she could give him. She was right, of course.”

You didn’t say anything, simply holding his trembling hand in yours and rubbing comforting circles on the back of it with your thumb.

“When I was a child, she met her soulmate. She was so happy she met him and we all were too. At first, everything seemed to align perfectly for her. She was getting straight A’s in school and her boyfriend would treat our family well. But then one night, she disappeared. We searched for her everywhere for a week. Eventually, she came home, dirty and sullen. She wouldn’t tell us what happened. Then the police came and tried to arrest her. My sister, a criminal.”

Jinyoung laughed hollowly, his mind now too far into his memories. “She spent two nights in jail until we managed to get her out. It wasn’t the last time, over the next six months she continued to lie and steal, causing all sorts of trouble. Then one day she told my parents she was leaving. They forbade it, of course. What parents would let their daughter leave like that? They banned her from seeing her soulmate, figuring he was the root of the problem.”

“And was he?”

Jinyoung nodded. “His family has a long line of history in shady businesses in the neighbouring city.”

“Then how could your sister not escape it all? She was raised so well and-”

“Can you escape me?” he asked you simply, settling down the urgency in your tone. He smiled bitterly. “Don’t answer me with our past; answer me with how you feel right now. Could you leave me?”

You shook your head, knowing it would be impossible.

“So she left and we never saw her again. My mother turned to drinking and ended up in rehab. Dad barely carried on for us all. I decided from there that I wouldn’t ever believe in soulmates. They caused too much destruction. So I pushed myself harder than anyone at my age would have. I came up with my life goal and I carried it through right up until I met you.”

“Well, you carried it further than that,” you admitted quietly and Jinyoung nodded softly.

“I didn’t want to. That dinner, no, from the first time I saw you, I wanted to have you. I didn’t want to give you up. But I was scared because I had lived my whole life fighting through the resentment I had towards my sister. I had tried so hard to prove a point and my pride was strong. Essentially though, I was a coward.”

Jinyoung was breaking under his confession and you blinked back your emotions, knowing he had waited to tell you all of this for when you could handle it. You felt anger towards yourself for all the times you doubted his approach.

“When I got to see you again, I was so relieved. I thought I would never get the chance, even with Jaebum searching for you on the regular. But I also worried that you would get frustrated with me. I didn’t want to drop all my sins on you right there and then. And as we started being together, I got scared again.”

He was crying now, and you reached for his head that he hung guiltily, cupping his cheeks within your hands. You sniffled back your own tears as he looked at you. “Why are you scared?”

“Because I can’t lose you now. The more I’m with you and imagine our lives together I’m worried I dismissed having a soulmate so much that it will be ripped away from me.”

You moved up immediately and kissed him hard, hoping it would anchor Jinyoung to you. As your mouth moved avidly against his, he gripped you to him closely. The emotions from his confession added a charge within the room that turned hasty the longer you kissed. Jinyoung stood up and hoisted you into his arms, your kisses only falling apart to suck in more air before crashing down on each other again. It was euphoric already and by the time Jinyoung had found his bedroom and laid you down on his bed, you had already both lost some of your clothes along the way.

He groaned as he looked at the sight of your upper body in just your bra, leaning down to trail his kisses over your chest and up onto the mound of one of your breasts. You gasped, arching your back in approval and a moan left you as he kissed you. Reaching out blindly for Jinyoung, you gripped at his arms, urging him to come back up to you and ease the yearning within your mouth. He obliged, though his hands continued to roam over you as his tongue explored your mouth hungrily. Your bra was soon unclasped and your hands were already fumbling with the belt on his pants.

Jinyoung pulled back, his breathing staggered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I love you,” you confessed, staring up into his dark eyes, your voice soon repeating the same line with more conviction.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his hands moving to your hips. “I love you so much.”

A lewd moan escaped you as he continued his path down your body, removing the skirt you had been wearing along with your panties. Lying there naked in front of your soulmate was empowering. The way his eyes took all of you in, as the light from outside shone its final rays of sunshine for the day, had you feeling desires you had never experienced before. You wanted to see Jinyoung naked, you wanted him to touch you everywhere and you needed him inside you. You whined, hoping he would capture all that you felt with your lustful cry. And he started to move, kissing his a trail down your abdomen and onto your hips, your body reacting in appreciation with every touch he made. It was indescribable, you were burning from the inside out yet you shivered over and over, the fever consuming you as you fisted his hair, hoping to find some sense of control within this heady experience. You were sure it would be over all too fast with how you felt right now and you wanted to slow down and appreciate everything.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured into your skin just above your sex, groaning as he opened your legs wider. “You’re driving me insane, Y/N.”

“Please do something,” you begged, your hands now holding onto your chest, impatient to feel more. You needed the craving to be met and you needed it now. You gasped when his finger slowly dragged along the entrance of your heat and Jinyoung hummed appreciatively before entering his finger inside you.

Everything changed from there. You had already thought you were experiencing the most heart-racing moment of your life until Jinyoung’s finger delved inside of you. He established a rhythm before coming back up to you, kissing you with demand. You were quaking and you couldn’t control any of your movements, gripping at him and moaning lewdly as each wave of arousal got stronger. You didn’t know how much more you could handle and when you thought you were going to pass out from sheer passion, Jinyoung’s hand departed from within you, leaving you whining in protest.

He smiled down at you, kissing you passionately before moving back. He removed his pants with a groan and you honestly thought you were going to stop breathing with the delicious sight before you. He didn’t wait though, shifting in between your legs, rubbing the tip of himself within your wetness. You moaned loudly and Jinyoung murmured for you to relax for a moment as he entered you. The stretch was more painful than you expected it would be for your first time. Jinyoung didn’t move for a moment, letting you both grow accustomed to this new experience. And then he slowly withdrew to the tip before he entered you again, the pain intensifying for only a moment.

“Are you okay?” he panted and you nodded hastily, aching to feel pleasure again.

It returned with a few more thrusts and soon you were both moaning loudly within the bedroom. Jinyoung held himself up above you with his strong arms and you gripped onto his forearms, feeling the sudden clenching of your stomach. You tightened against him and Jinyoung groaned, thrusting into you a little harder than before. In a chain of hurried movements and groans, you felt a new sensation overpower you, your grip on reality slipping from you as your mind blanked. And after another thrust, Jinyoung filled you with a warmth that made your head spin further.

He collapsed on top of you, still inside of you but as he rolled onto his side, he slid out, some of your undoing seeping out with him. Jinyoung appeared love-drunk as he smiled lazily at you and then he kissed your forehead. “Stay here; I’ll just get something to clean us up with.”

When he returned, you couldn’t get over how this man was yours. Everything about Park Jinyoung felt like a dream. Even with his difficult past, it was unfathomable that this human completed you in every way. Yet in that moment, your soul had never felt so alive. It beckoned him forward and when he was leaning over you to clean you up, you couldn’t help but reach up and kiss him again.

“I love you,” you said when you pulled back and Jinyoung grinned.

“I love you even more.”

You were certain he was wrong. There was so much energy within you that just sung out how much you loved him. You felt it with every fibre within your body. Yet he tried to prove it to you all night long as further love-making sessions continued to make you both call out just how much you loved one another over and over.

When you both realised you had slept together before your fifth week scheduled session, well, you couldn’t help but make sure you filled that date with just as much passion as the first night you slept together. And although Jinyoung had been careful with you whilst you were in your cast, it hadn’t stopped you from falling into nights of endless passion with him until it was removed. In fact, having sex had become one of your favourite activities with him. It ended all the most perfect days, started out your mornings and sometimes snuck into your afternoons too when you were both off from work. Over the next six weeks, you learned so much about Jinyoung’s body that you were certain you were well-versed with every centimetre of it intimately. And when you weren’t rocking each other into another realm of pleasure, you were getting your lives set up together. You had moved into his home and now wore a ring on your finger from the proposal that you had known was coming before he even produced a ring. Your soulmate connection still threw you both through hoops, arguing was just as intense as your love life was some days. But you wouldn’t change any of it because you had never felt so alive before. Every step you now made had an ingrained purpose towards another person on this Earth, and you knew without Jinyoung you would have never felt this way. You had been satisfied with your life before him but now you were seeking further goals and looking forward to a brighter future.

The wedding your parents wanted happened within the same year and your honeymoon was slowly becoming a distant memory. Jinyoung still worked at the hospital though he definitely cut back his availability, often taking you around the world as he had wanted to all this time. You experienced new sights and cultures and felt your love grow in ways you never expected it to. You were certain that you woke up each day loving your husband more than you did the day previous.

This was the reality you had heard so often as a child. The inexplicable way that you melded with Jinyoung made you really believe you were living in that happily ever after fairytale you had dreamed of having one day.

But there was something missing from your lives. It wasn’t from lack of trying but by the time you were two years into your marriage without a child, you started to feel a different craving. You had been sure you would be always satisfied with Jinyoung. And you really were. There was a deeper need though, a maternal desire to share your happiness with another life as well. Whenever you were around Jindae you would hold him to you more often, reluctant to let him go. And he cherished your attention so much that he would often beg to come and stay at your home, soaking up all the love and attention you gave him. Jinyoung knew that you were in love with his nephew as much as he was and when his parents suggested you had Jindae stay over on the school holidays you had been excited. Until it was time to let him go again.

Jindae would cry too. Even though he loved his Grandparents, they were growing old and looking at retirement. He was too much energy for them to keep up with and you had turned to them, asking if they would let you taken Jindae in permanently. Of course, they agreed, and now you were a family of three.

Everything fell into alignment. You had the family that you had wanted for as long as you could remember. And with some medical assistance, you were now six months pregnant with twins. It meant both the men in your life were fussing over you constantly, making sure that you rested completely. You often thought back to when you broke your leg and how you ended up finding Jinyoung again. It felt like a lifetime ago and yet you could still remember the first look, that first kiss and the first time you told him you loved him.

Glancing over at the man sleeping soundly at your side and then down at the small hand over your protruding stomach that belonged to the snoring child on your other side, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. It was you who was meant to be resting right now, yet they were the ones who had dreams to chase.

You were content with being awake though – you had no need to dream for anything anymore.

Because your soul matched perfectly with Jinyoung’s. You were simply destined for greatness from here on out.

_________________

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[motherofkittens94]

my @gotsecretsanta  gift for @owlsinathens 

I was your Santa Happy christmas! 

/

“What are  you doing out here, Jon snow?” Theon Greyjoy emerged from within the trees. Jon huffed in frustration. He had hope not to be seen leaving the banquet. At least it was only Theon.  

“Escaping. I cant stand the Lannisters a moment longer.”

“At least you were invited” Theon said his grin not matching his eyes “ I suppose mine got lost”

“ You didn’t want to come anyway.”

“ Not really no ,I would’ve been nice to asked though . To be acknowledged “

Jon didn’t want to get into that too  much with Greyjoy so he changed the subject . “I thought you were out – with your lady friend

“Slight mix up apparently _ turns out we had more in common than I thought...”

“How do you mean?” Jon frowned confused.

“I mean -parents – It was my sister “

“ No!” Jon cant help but smile 

“Yes! Im going to washing my hands for weeks”

Jon chuckled. “That would only happen to you.” 

“In my defence, I haven’t seen her in ten years. I forgot what she looked like.” 

“That does make it better Theon,“ Jon said, grinning. “What’s she like, then? Your sister?” he asked.

“Asha - and trust me, Jon snow, she is not your type.” 

“You don’t know my type, Greyjoy.”

“I can guess. The broody type. Don’t talk too much. Proper high-born lady, waiting for marriage and all that.”

“You’re wrong,” Jon stated.

“I am now?” Theon pressed.

“She wasn’t like that,“

“She! Who’s she?” Theon smiled wickedly. 

“This girl I knew, Ygritte.”

“Why haven’t I met this Ygritte?”

 “She was a wildling.” 

“Oh ho,“ Theon chuckled, “you dark horse.“

“You would’ve liked her, I reckon,” Jon admitted to him. 

Theon raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Good was she?“

“She was feisty. She had your sense of humour. She was good with a bow too.”

“How about that?“ Theon smirked. “Did you think of me when you kissed her?” Theon teased.

 “No! I – I –” Jon stammered, “it’s -”

“So, what happened? With this Ygritte with the fire hair? Are you still together?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Because -” Theon pressed him when he didn’t elaborate.

“She shot me,“ Jon moaned. 

“Tragic,” Theon said.

“You can talk.“

“Well, I’ve never got shot.” Theon shrugged. “Live and learn, hey, Jonnie? I’m going for more drinks – coming?”

“Nah.”

“Suit yourself.“ Theon turned to go. 

“Theon –“ Jon started,  He turned back “I – “ I want to kiss you. Jon nearly said. He bit it back at the last second.

“Never mind. “

/

He found Jon’s hunched form in the corner. Theon approached him carefully. The old Theon wouldn’t know how to be careful, wouldn’t know what Jon would need at this moment, Probably wouldnt care. It would’ve been amusing to his old self, he mused. It was not so funny now.  “Jon?“ he said softly. Jon looked up briefly and then turned away.

“Can I come in?” Theon hadn’t shaken the habit of asking permission for everything.

“How did you find me here?” Jon questioned.

“Oh, this is where you would come when you wanted to cry, remember?”

“Who told you that?” Jon demanded and then huffed. “Robb!“

“Robb shared everything with me in the good old days,” Theon said tauntingly and then went serious. “Do you want me to go? Only the girls are looking for you…”

Since Jon didn’t reply, he came closer. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Being here again? It’s haunting.” Jon nodded.

“It weighs on you, doesn’t it?“ Theon went on softly. “The things you wish you hadn’t done?“ Jon gave another curt nod. “It does with me as well,” Theon admitted.  

“Does it stop?” Jon asked. “Does it ever go away?”

“No, I don’t believe it does,“ Theon answered truthfully. Sensing that wasn’t the comfort Jon wanted to hear, he said: “You can only keep on going.”

“What if I don’t want to keep on going?”

“You can’t give up,“ Theon said determined. “You give up and they win. Don’t let them win.”  

“What’s the use?“ Jon sounded despairing. “This isn’t the person I wanted to be.”

Theon sat down next to him and sighed. He gestured to himself. “Do you think this who I wanted to be? “

“Theon “ Jon eyed him cautiously.  “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I?“ Theon challenged.

Jon gestured helplessly. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“Don’t you think I of all people would understand that? I know just how it feels to lose yourself.”  

“How can you stand it?“ Jon demanded of him. “Tell me how you bear it?”

“I bear it because what else is there to do? I’ve dealt with scorn all my life, Jon Snow.”

“As have I,“ Jon quipped. “You don’t know what it was like for me.”

“Don’t I?” Theon growled. 

 “You are not a bastard.”

“And you were not a hostage. You were loved, you had your family – what did I have?”

“Us.“

“Marvellous,“ Theon said scornfully. “They were waiting half my life to cut my head off. that’s no way to live, Jon. “

“Us.“ Jon’s dark eyes melt with emotion. “You and me – we had - Robb –“

Theon nodded, understanding what he meant.  “Robb. We had Robb.  I wanted to die by his side.“ It didn’t feel too much to admit this. Not to Jon. 

“As did I.” Jon looked miserable. “He would be ashamed of me.”

“Not of you,” Theon told him.

“Yes, of me. I’m tainted. I’ll never be whole again, never be clean. People look at me and they  know – they just know – I wish – I wish “

“You wish..,?“ Theon prompted.

“I wish they had never brought me back,“ he said his voice low and dangerous.

“You don’t mean that“

“I do!“ he said furiously. “I didn’t know there were worse things than dying.” Jon shook his head. It’s no use. It’s ruined. Ruined,“ was what Jon kept saying, “it’s all ruined.”

“What’s ruined, Jon?”

“I am. I’m ruined.“

“Don’t say that,“ Theon whispered.

“I wish I was with her, “ Jon said gloomily. “I can’t come back from this –“

“You came back from the dead,” Theon reminded him. “Not many do that.“

“Everything I hoped for – Everything I tried to be – it’s all ruined now. I am a ruined man.”  

“You’re not ruined. Theon put his own hand against Jon’s and lined up the scars on his own hands. Look, we match.” Jon’s hand tightened into a fist around Theon’s, squeezing  crushingly tight. Theon reached to hold Jon’s other arm and pulled him into his lap. “It’s okay. It’s okay,“ he assured him as Jon sobbed into his chest. “It’s going to be okay. We are going to be okay. We’re back now. we’re back. “

When Jon stopped crying, he murmured: “Remember that day? The day I told you about Ygritte?”

“The day of the feast? I remember.“ Theon whispered to him. “I remember it all.”

“Theon, she died. Before I did.“  He would’ve joked about that not being ideal but on seeing Jon’s the words died on Theon’s tongue and he could only nod in acknowledgement. “I thought I would see her- when- “ 

“Did you?“ Theon dared to ask.

Jon shook his head. “You asked me that day if I thought about kissing you.” 

Theon smirked and then sighed. “I was winding you up. It’s very easy to do.” 

“I did think of it.  I wanted to kiss you that day, you know.”

The smile returned to Theon’s face like it used to. Only this time it exposed a mouth of broken and missing teeth, and it almost hurt Jon to look at. “I wanted that too.” 

[zombiesbecrazy]

unstoppable bullet, unstoppable loop

Summary: The thing that the stories never told anyone was how every night Booster woke up from his nightmares, screaming until his throat was hoarse.

AO3

The thing that the stories never told anyone was how every night Booster woke up from his nightmares, screaming until his throat was hoarse.

He had a coping system though. He'd sit up, drink a big glass of water he always had beside his bed, change out his sweat soaked t-shirt and then shuffle into the living room and lie down on the couch, eventually fall into a light doze until his coffee maker woke him up in the morning with the smell of coffee that he didn't even drink because he only liked the smell and not the taste. It was a pretty terrible system. He knew it wasn't the best way of handling his problems, because he wasn't really handling them at all, but it was good enough for now.

The nightmares cycled, sometimes nonsense but more often than not it was reliving something that he had done, or hadn’t done with embarrassingly bad results. The one that was most common was one of his own creation. The one event that he had experienced again and again when Rip was trying to teach him that some things were unchangeable; fixed points in time that would always happen no matter what he tried to do to change things. Night after night Booster found himself being beaten to death by the Joker in an attempt to stop him from shooting Barbara Gordon. They said that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Booster didn't know about that, but what he did know that is was slowly driving him crazy now, either due to guilt or sleep deprivation and he didn't know which was worse.

Didn’t really matter. Crazy was crazy.

When he first heard about the Joker, reading about him in the Justice League museum as a kid, he thought he was silly. A dumb guy in a lame costume who shouldn't have been any threat to a hero as legendary as Batman. He had no powers or crazy gadgets at his disposal so there had to be more to the story for him to keep winning.

And then stole some tech, travelled back in time and, amongst other things, learned the hard way that the Joker was just a sadistic bastard who thrived on chaos and destruction, fueled by the sound of his own maniacal laughter.

He was beaten up. Electrocuted. Shot. Drowned. More than fifty times, seventy times, a hundred times he had gone back, trying to stop the mad man before her shot Barbara Gordon - Batgirl, Oracle - through the spine and he just kept getting killed over and over for his efforts, Skeets and Rip pulling him out just in time before he insisted on throwing himself back in time and trying again. And again. And again.

Fixed point. Always. Destiny.

He hated all of those words. they were so static and frustrating. He could travel through time. He should be able to make a difference instead of just failing over and over.

"Michael?" A deep voice startled him awake. "Is everything alright?"

Booster looked around groggily, trying to remember what he had been doing. Lights. Windows. Space. Oh, fantastic. He had fallen asleep in a Justice League meeting because of course a screw up like him out do that. Everyone else had left and he was alone at the table with Batman, lights in the room dimmed to a light blue ambient settling. "Yeah. No." A loud yawn escaped his mouth as he sat up and stretched. "I'm just tired. I'm not sleeping. I'm alright."

The biggest problem that he had was that the nightmares weren’t just dreams that spiralled out of control into the fantastical and weird. Instead, his were all real, vivid and accurate memories of what he had done, showcasing all the ways that he had failed to save the day, not exaggerated in the least. If anything he remembered more the more he experienced them.

The first time he tried, the first time Rip sent him back, he was too late. Caught up in the Joker’s trap at the fairgrounds, he had burst into the Gordon's living room just seconds after the gun was fired, Barbara lying on the ground, Joker and his goons standing above her, laughing and joking and just watching as the bled helplessly on the ground. Booster lost it, flying at the Joker and attacked, fists flying. He was too late to stop her from getting hurt, but he could take out the Joker now, stopping so many other future events. The Robin from being killed. The countless numbers of people killed or worse by his sick games. He couldn’t save Batgirl, but he could stop this sicko now and for good.

And then Joker beat him to the brink of consciousness with Skeets and pulled out a gun.

Booster woke up in the bed, gasping with pained breathes, Rip looking down at him, worried expression on his face as he examined at Booster’s beaten body.

“Send me back. Now, dammit!” Booster had demanded it. He could do better. He could save her in a second attempt.

He didn’t. He may have actually done worse.

Adrenaline pumping, he returned a second time but again he was too slow, held up fighting some of Joker's men outside the building, and Barbara was shot just outside the door and then Joker electrocuted him in the face.

He woke up with Rip again, blood dripping from his mouth and a trembling feeling running through her skin, gritted his teeth and got back to his feet. “Back… back again.”

Smash, through a wall in the House of Mirrors this time, shattering shards of glasses impaling his body as he fell, one stabbing through his liver, causing him to break out. That time he had been taken out before Joker ever left the fairgrounds, no way of stopping him that time. He didn’t even get close.

“Again.”

Shot through the chest. Hung from the rafters. Shot out of a cannon.

“A… again.”

Rip told him it was a training lesson, that things couldn't be changed. That in every scenario, in every outcome and in every universe, Barbara Gordon gets shot by the Joker and becomes paralyzed. Some things could not be changed. There were rules and order to the universe. But if there was one thing the Booster Gold paid no attention to, it was rules that someone told him couldn't be broken. If he did, he wouldn't be Booster Gold in the first place.

So he ignored Rip and kept going back. Sometimes he got closer. Sometimes he almost won. There was one instance where his fingers brushed her just enough to push her out of the bullets path, but that only made things worse and she didn’t get paralyzed and instead she died.

The world spun out of control after that attempt and he just made it back in time to try again because he was eaten by a dragon.

Butterfly effect was a bitch.

He had only gone back one more time after that one, and he hadn’t been able to stop anything. He never was able to stop anything, not when it mattered.

"Batman? Can I ask a favour?" Batman said nothing but turned to face him and Booster faltered a bit under the scrutiny and looked away. Batman had said that he could come and talk to him about things, that he was there for him, that he was willing to be his friend, but they hadn’t talked about it since. "Can I talk to Oracle?" He stared at the table in front of him, not able to will himself to look up and face the man.

"Is that a good idea?"

"Probably not,” Booster conceded, finally looking up to face Batman, who was sitting back in his chair with unblinking eyes, giving nothing away in his expression. He sighed and rested his head on his hands, trying to hold himself together and put his thoughts into some sort of logical order. "I think I need to though. My nightmares, I keep failing to save her. I'm hoping that if I know she's alright the dreams will stop." He doubted that they would. He knew that she was alive and was thriving as Oracle. She was touted as one of the great heroes of the age even though hardly anyone knew anything about her in the official records of time. It took a special amount of security to even know the whispered truth about who Oracle was and the power that she had wielded. Maybe seeing her would be the difference though, casting aside of the haunted memory that he had of her dying in front of him, with him unable to stop it no matter how many attempts he made. "Did you tell her?"

"It's not my story to tell," said Batman in a matter of fact tone, which was very similar to the rest of his tones as far as Booster could tell. “I’ll see if I can arrange something. I’ll be in touch.”

A week later Booster found himself in the Batman’s secret lair,, standing at the foot of the giant penny with a fleet of batmobiles nearby, and despite his nervousness he was having a hard time resisting the urge to spin around in circles, arms wide as if he were in a musical. “I love the Bat Cave!” he called out, laughing as he heard his voice echo through the emptiness, bouncing off the walls. “It’s just so cool in here.”

“You aren’t wrong. It is pretty cool down here.” The voice came from out of nowhere and made him yelp in surprise, spinning around to find a very familiar looking red haired woman. Barbara Gordon. Batgirl. Oracle. It was a face that haunted his dreams every night, but it looked different. She was a little older, but everything else was different too. Hair was shorter and a little darker red, glasses frames were different, her biceps were in incredible shape, but the thing that stood out was that she was in a wheelchair. He had done that. He hadn’t stopped that. Countless times that he had tried and he had been unable to stop that one thing. She grinned at him, genuine and bright, unaware of his internal battles. "The infamous Booster Gold. We meet at last." She held out her hand and he stared at it for a moment, embarrassed that he was caught in his moment of fanboyishness in the cave, before his brain kick started again and he grabbed her hand to shake it way too enthusiastically, covering up his nerves of terror with nerves of nervousness.

He had no idea what was going to happen here.

"Hi Babs." His eyes widened, realising that he didn’t know this woman. Not personally, not in the way that she knew. Not in a way that he can call her by a nickname on first meeting. "Sorry. Barbara,” he stammered until he thought about it more. He hadn’t asked to meet with Barbara. Was he supposed to know her name? She called him Booster and not Michael. Were they supposed to use their codenames? "I mean Oracle." That felt weird. She wasn’t in a costume. Did she have a costume? She was just a lady in a cave. One of the smartest people alive maybe, but just a human. “Ma’am.” He turned beet red and his own stupidity. Why was he not able to function like a regular human and know how to have a conversation. He wasn’t usually this bad at it, or if he was, he wasn’t aware of it. "This was stupid. I'm just going to go."

"Stop. Stay. Explain." she said calmly, eyeing him with scrutiny, like she was trying to figure him out like a puzzle. It reminded him of Batman. And Nightwing. And the rest of the Bats. Did they practice that look in Bat school? Could he learn that look?

He noticed that he was still shaking her hand and it was way past the point of awkward. He dropped it abruptly, and then struggled to figure out what do to with his hands before settling on running one through his hand and giving her his patented Booster Gold smile. "Explain what?" Yeah. Nailed it.

She settled back in her chair, resting her elbows on the armrests and tented her fingers together as she considered him. "You are from the future with the ability to time travel. You already knew my identity and Batman arranged for this meet up at your request, in the Bat Cave, instead of just having me contact you remotely like I would typically do in this scenario." He nodded, because what else could he do? Everything she said was true. "Whatever you wanted, it's clearly important."

He had tried to think about what he would say to her. How he would try and explain what he had tried to do, the lesson that Rip was trying to teach him, and everything that had happened, but in the moment, he just couldn’t do it. He froze again. She didn’t need to relive it and know all the messy details. He wasn’t sure if anything could help his problem and now that he was here he wondered if this would just be bad for her to know.

"I'm sorry," he finally blurted out, unable to think of any other way to try and explain why they were there. "I’m sorry that I couldn't save you."

Barbara stared at him, trying to sort out what they were talking about. They had never met from her perspective. "What are you talking about?"

He couldn’t hold back now that he had jumped in. He curled his hands into tight balls, trying to keep them from shaking out of some unnameable emotion. "I was there the night you were shot. Over and over again. I went back almost a hundred times. Maybe even more. I lost count. I couldn't stop it." Now that he was started, he was having a hard time rambling. He sat down next to the penny and rested his head against it with his eyes closed. He was just so tired, not only about this, but about everything. He missed Ted. He missed Michelle. He missed Rip. He even missed his old crappy life in the future before all this because at least then things were simple and easy. "I'm so sorry I couldn't stop him. I'm sorry you're in that chair. I'm sorry I took your legs." He curled up against the penny and let out a deep breath that he hadn’t known that he was holding, shuddering as it left his body, and tears running down his cheeks. It felt so good to say the words to say them to the one person that he needed to the most. No matter what happened next, he just felt so relieved. That he had told her. That it was finally off his chest.

He was going to sleep for a week. She could punch and scream and hate him and it would still be better than bottling it up inside for all of eternity. He probably shouldn’t have told her. He probably was breaking all the rules of time travel that he never seemed to know about until after he had broken them, but it was out there now and he couldn’t take it back.

He didn’t know how long he sat there until he realized that Barbara hadn’t responded. When he opened his eyes, she was still there, looking at him with an odd expression. "Batman knew about this?" she finally asked, voice flat and low, like she was angry but trying to pretend that she wasn't. Yeah, he had expected some anger.

"Yes?" he said slowly, wondering once again if it was a mistake to make this connection. “He knows that I was there and that I tried to stop it, but that’s it. He doesn't know any details."

"And I'm guessing he didn't prep you about what to say to me?"

"No? Why would he?"

Barbara lips tightened and shook her head at him, red hair falling over her shoulders. "Because he definitely would have told you to never say any of the things that you just said to me." Booster’s stomach plummeted. He did suffer from foot in mouth disease, even when he was desperately trying to say the right thing. Perhaps even more so then. “Never in my life have I wanted someone to swoop in and save me. I made myself into a hero then, and I’m the same way now. I’m not broken, Booster, and I hate it when people think of me that way. Yes, I can’t walk, but everyone has their own challenges, and that is all it is to me. I can still fight. I can still work. I can still help people. I regret nothing that led me to this point." Barbara stopped and took in his expression and something that she saw made her soften a bit in her features. “I don’t know what happened or whatever you think you did or didn’t do, but I do know one thing. You didn’t take my legs. The only person that we can blame for that is the Joker, because he is the one who pulled the trigger. You did nothing to cause this.”

Booster nodded at her words. He understood what she was trying to say. She had come to terms with what had happened. This new information didn't change anything for her, but she recognized that it meant a lot to him. “Thank you. I just needed to let you know that I tried. I tried so hard. No matter what I did, I just couldn’t change anything. Not to make it any better anyway.” In that moment though, sitting on the floor in the dark Bat Cave, something occurred to him. He didn't know if it was important but on that last try, he had done something. The only thing he had thought of in the moment that he hadn’t tried before in any of his other attempts. "I called 911," he whispered. "The last time. I had finally given up on trying to stop him. I was out of ideas, but I called 911."

There was a hand on his shoulder, light and warm, rubbing gently back and forth. "Then you did save me. Maybe not in the way you wanted, but I'm alive." Booster looked up at Barbara and there was something there now. Something soft and kind and it pushed a little bit of hope into his gut. “Only one call went in reporting the gun shot. If no one had called for an ambulance, I would have died on the floor all alone.” Her words sank in. He had called 911. He had called for help. The loop was closed, so that meant that he had always been there, not just randomly interloping through time, learning a painful lesson about set things and fate. He was always meant to be there. He was always meant to fail again and again in order to reach that last point. He had been able to make a difference. Barbara had kept talking, and he turned his focus back. “The Joker may have shot me, but without Booster Gold, Oracle would have never have had the chance to be born. I like who I am, who I got the chance to become. I’m glad you were there.”

Without thinking he rushed up to his knees, leaning way too close and invading her personal space but he couldn't stop himself from curling his arms tight around her and he choked out something that was between a sob and a laugh when felt her return the embrace. It was warm and caring in the cold dark cave and it was more than he had imagined, relief flooding his body, shaking with the effort.

The nightmares didn’t stop.

Of course they didn’t. He still was regularly beaten by the Joker. He still watched Barbara Gordon get shot. He still failed time and time again to stop the unstoppable bullet.

The only difference was that he could drink his water, change his shirt, and then scroll through his phone and look at the now saved contact name. He didn’t need to text or call it. Seeing that it was there, knowing that he could contact if he needed to and she would pick up, it was enough to try again.

[yodawgiherd]

Melting

Rating: T

>>>Read on AO3<<<

It's hot af here, so I was wondering, what if I made it the same way in my fic? HMMMMMMMMMM? Im a genius dont @ me.

It’s funny how quickly the weather changes. Few days back, he was still wearing hoodies, but now Eren was glad that his car has such a good air conditioning system, allowing him to make the trip back home from work relatively unscathed. Pulling next to Mikasa’s bike, he wondered how the hell did she survive driving that infernal machine in this heat, especially clad head to toe in black leather, her usual biker attire. The house was eerily empty, void of any activity or sounds, making Eren question if perhaps Mikasa wasn’t even home, maybe having an extra-long modeling session or working out too much, as she tends to. But then again, with how large the mansion was, sometimes too big for just the two of them honestly, he should better make sure. A quick search later, Eren was proven wrong, as his lovely fiancé was indeed here, sunbathing in the backyard next to the full pool. She was really looking like the picture of relaxation, stretched on a sun lounger, her porcelain skin in sharp contrast to the strapless black bikini she wore. Stylish piece. Nearing her, Eren couldn’t tell is she was sleeping or not, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses, but his unspoken question got answered, because when he came to stand next to the lounger, Mikasa perked up and pushed the glasses out of her face, blinking at him.  

“Doing okay?”, he asked, watching her smile grew wider as she nodded at him with her half-full glass.

“I’m perfect actually.”

“You filled the pool.”, Eren observed, “How’s the water?”

“Warm, as everything nowadays. When I came home and saw what the temperature was, going for the pool was the only possible option I saw.”

“Smart.”

“I know right? Now that the sun is trying to cook us alive, I have to trade my scarf for the water.”, she snickered, “Which kinda sucks, because the new one you gave me is really comfortable.”

“It’s fine, you can put it back on once the summer is done. Plus, it wouldn’t match that bikini at all.”

“You think so?”, she looked down at her body, trying to imagine how the weird combo of swimwear with a scarf would look like. She should ask Pixis.

“Yep. No need to draw away the eyes of everyone by the aggressive red color when the stuff you wear is so elegant.”

“Aw, thanks, I wore this piece for a photoshoot a week back, the swimsuit season is starting, and I liked it so much that I bought it after.”, rolling left and right to give Eren the best possible view, she looked at him over the rim of her glasses, “Like it?”

“Love it, it suits you. Most of the things you bring home from the model agency do, did you perhaps consider that you might be developing a sense for fashion?”

“Me? Fashion?”, Mikasa gasped, seemingly outraged, “How could you!”

“The people you whoosh past on your bike surely appreciate the tasteful combinations and fitting cut of your leather gear.”

“The only leather gear I want fitted is the one I use with you.”, slowly, she traced the shape of her upper lip with the tip of her tongue, “If you know what I’m talking about.”

Taken aback, Eren just stared at her, the silence interrupted by Mikasa’s loud slurping, as she continued draining whatever was left in her glass, her predatory gaze not leaving his face. Classic.

“Since you’re already here, why don’t you massage my back? Got a few cramps that have been legit killing me.”, she offered, seeing that he was still out of words to say. So easy to get him flustered sometimes.

Shrugging, as he was always down to give her a massage, Eren motioned for her to turn over, sitting on the lounger and shamelessly abusing the opportunity to ogle her ass, as Mikasa was now lying on her front, because that thing was still simply too perfect to be true. Butt that belonged to fiction, on statues and painting, but here it was, delightfully exposed as her bikini bottom dug in-between her ass cheeks, giving him an unobstructed view. Mikasa did not skip leg day, did her squats, and it showed. Mostly to prevent himself from drooling, Eren dragged his gaze upwards, on her back where his hands were hard at work right now, opening his mind and focusing on finding the sore muscles, easing the tension out of them.

“The tattoo project coming along fine?”, he asked, mostly to fill the silence because when they were not talking, it was way too easy to slide his gaze down over the sinful curve of her body and back down to the holy land above Mikasa’s long legs.

“Mhmm. Just finishing the designs now.”, she cracked an eye open, watching him over her shoulder, “You still want it? To have the matching wings on our back?”

“Totally.”

“Then it should be ready soon.”, a bit of a dreamy expression entered her features, “It’s going to look great, trust me.”

“You’re the tattoo expert here, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Having ink on my wrist doesn’t make me an expert.”

“That’s still one more than I have.”

Not sure how to answer that, Mikasa fell silent, closing her eyes and letting Eren work out the kinks of her back, melting into his touch. It felt great, as always, and she almost fell asleep, completely relaxed under the sun. But that just wouldn’t do, as she still wanted to swim, the water was perfect after all, so waking up with a start, she eyed her boyfriend, who stood up to give her room on the chair.

“Come on, don’t stand there like that. Clothes off, the pool’s waiting!”, she ordered.

But Eren was already shaking his head.

“I don’t think I can right now, I have to….”

The feeling of Mikasa’s hands gently but very strongly taking hold of his waist stopped his excuses.

“Baby…”, she whispered, sliding out of the lounger to stand next to him,  “That was not a request.”

Gaze following hers to the water surface and back, the terrible clarity of what was about to happen flooded Eren’s mind.

“You wouldn’t.”, he tried.

She grinned.

“Yes I would.”

“Mikasa no.”

“Mikasa yes!”

And then he was being half dragged half carried towards the pool, with strength he had no chance of resisting, his captor completely ignoring any pleadings. Push came to shove, Eren lost his footing, and flew over the rim, his back hitting the water surface. The sound of Mikasa’s laughter got replaced by the sound of water gushing all around him, as he submerged, whatever curse he tried shouting dying in his throat. Eren wasn’t a bad swimmer, so after a few seconds he easily resurfaced, even with the weight of the wet clothes dragging him down, just in time to see Mikasa’s elegant dive, arcing over him and hardly disturbing the water as she disappeared beneath the blue too. Eren tried frowning at her, when her head appeared above the surface, but her grin was just too infectious, making him unable to stay mad at her.

“I do hope you didn’t have a phone in your pockets.”, she winked at him, “Would be quite a loss.”

Luckily he left both phone and car keys at the kitchen’s table, but she didn’t know that.

“That wasn’t very nice of you.”, Eren grumbled, doing his best to appear at least a bit angry.

“And what are you going to do about it?”, she countered, the tease clear in her voice.

“I’ll think of something…”, eyes narrowing, Eren tried swimming closer, only for Mikasa to edge away.

“Good luck with that, since you’ll have to catch me first.”, and she bolted.

The pool was big, big enough for her to evade him basically forever, since she was both a better swimmer and Eren still had the clothes to slow him down, but after a bit of a chase Mikasa did allow herself to be caught on the shallow end, back to the wall as Eren caged her in with his arms, loving that he was finally able to stand.

“Got you now Ackerman.”, he growled.

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?”, she moaned helplessly, loping her arms around Eren’s neck.

Seeing that she was very much on board with whatever he intended, he repositioned his hands from the wall and slid them down over her back and down, finally reaching that firm shape of her butt. While watching it was great and all, touching it still took the cake. But he didn’t even get a chance to explain his evil plan, because as soon as he dug his fingers in Mikasa took it as an invitation and leaned closer, aggressively pressing her mouth on his. The water helped when she wrapped her legs around Eren’s waist, the weight of her body greatly reduced, so he could focus on licking into her mouth instead, brushing his tongue against hers. It was great, it was amazing, so Eren was surprised when the raven pulled back, fingers working diligently to unbutton his wet shirt.

“Something wrong?”, he asked, allowing her to remove his top and throw it out of the pool.

“We gotta christen the pool properly.”, she responded, hand disappearing under the surface to undo Eren’s belt, “But you have to sit on the edge, I can’t breathe underwater.”

It took him a few seconds to understand what she was implying, but when he did Eren jumped up rather quickly, taking a seat and watching as she pulled his underwear down, eyes sparkling.

“Now what do we have here…”

Hitch woke up alone, the bed next to her empty but warm, implying that Jean wasn’t gone for long. Sitting up, she wrapped herself in blanket and began her search, which was bound to be short considering that her flat was anything but big. Her lover and recent roommate was sitting in the kitchen, next to an open window, a cigarette in hand.

“I thought you quit.”, she said, sitting opposite him.

Jean followed her gaze to the burning tobacco roll between his fingers, as if he just realized that he was holding it.

“I did.”, he sighed, taking another drag, “But I found myself craving  a smoke after the discussion we had. And I wasn’t strong enough to resist.”

Unearthing old pains was part of Hitch’s job, so she was very familiar with the haunted look on Jean’s face, knowing that falling back into his bad habit of smoking is definitely not a solution.

“You should look for him.”, she offered, “Try to reconnect.”

“Marco? I told you, I have no idea if he’s even alive. Waste of time.”

But when Jean tried raising to cigarette up to take another drag, Hitch reached over and plucked it out of his fingers, squishing it against the ashtray.

“Sitting here and smoking is not gonna help.”, she hissed, “What’s the harm in searching anyway?”

“Maybe I don’t want to know what happened to him.”, he murmured, not meeting her gaze, “What if I look for him and find out that he really died?”

“Closure is better than uncertainty.”, Hitch insisted. Reaching over the table, she squeezed his hand, finally making him look up at her, “I’ll help you.”

He couldn’t say no to her, especially now that they were eye to eye, and the warmth and supportiveness in her gaze were undeniable. Doing his best to smile, albeit he didn’t feel like it at all, Jean nodded at her, making her face light up even more. She stood up, tugging at his hand until he followed the motion, and together they crossed the distance back to the bedroom, because it was still late, and they were both tired. The search, whatever that might be, can wait till tomorrow.

The snakes twisting in Sasha’s stomach wouldn’t stop, no matter how much she tried to focus on her work and not on them. The rows of numbers dancing in front of her eyes did nothing to overcome her fear and worry, making even the simplest tasks of accounting nigh impossible. The bar was doing great, that was a good thing, customers were aplenty, and so far no one has suffered any dangerous consequences after drinking one of Hange’s hellish experimental drinks, straight from the lab, people actually seemed to enjoy them, a thing that boggled Sasha’s mind to no end.

But all those facts paled, when she remembered why she was even upset in the first place, fists clenching helplessly. Niccolo was gone. Ever since he tried to dig deeper in their combined efforts of finding Gabi, contact people that he shouldn’t, she hasn’t heard from him since. And that scared her. If anything happened to Niccolo, it was because of her and the stupid quest she embarked on, the young cook had no stake in the game, yet he was nothing but helpful to her. She had to do something, try and locate him on her own, just sitting here crunching numbers wasn’t going to cut it. But looking out of the window, she could see that it was dark outside, night, and beginning anything now  would be rather stupid on her part. In the morning then, she’s going to find him. On her own, if she must.

[knightsdeath]

buries his face in the crook of felix’s neck & breathes out in a tired sigh : ‘ i love you , ‘

the heart settles warily / beats questioningly / and what a wonder it is : to be alive. but that, too, is a lie ———— something strange and half—formed and furthermore a testament to the sycophantic cries of THE MANY, oh the joy to be alive !! to survive this war !! to survive these days which follow so steadily and stiltedly and nightmarish—ly !! and something and something and et cetera.

in the end the unwilling and unwitting truth of it all is that he had expected to live as much as he hadn’t and the contradiction that lies therein is fully and truly the result of LIVING WITH THE UNDERSTANDING THAT HE WAS MADE TO DIE and furthermore being faced with the blatant truth of the fragility of mortlity ———— which is neither here nor there, isn’t it?

thoughts rage and the mind twists and sleep ( velvety—soft / blade—seething ) eludes him on this night and most nights but not every night and he considers the grounds without seeing and with seeing and the moon / waning and crescent formed / weeps silently in the sky. memories cling as they’re wont to do and as they must do and as he so wishes they wouldn’t and he finds himself mired in this suggestion of agony. not quite full yet overflowing all the same and exhaustion pulls ————

time passes, inexorable and unavoidable. if he were to be pressed he couldn’t say how long he’s stood there watching, swathed in pale moonlight and the passive watching of the stars and chilled by the cool night air, shoulders bare and scar disgusting as ever ———— he couldn’t say how long he’s stood there before the door opens and his spine begins to straighten but there’s nothing to fear, is there? yet foreboding unravels in the pit of him and winds itself so very prettily along his spine and that fear from lifetimes ago / does not truly live, any longer. but for the spaces between breaths and moments and seconds where THE GHOST OF IT HAUNTS HIM STILL.

but he knows him. has known him, always. from birth. from before birth, impossibly and improbably. the suggestion of him and the concept of him and the presence that he carries and he would know him anywhere and everywhere and IN ALL FORMS AND IN ANY AND ALL WAYS / to the ends of this earth and this existence and beyond. the way which the doors to his rooms ( the king’s quarters / which may well be theirs at this rate and they’re theirs in all ways that count but to THINK OF THEM in such a manner feels disjointed and strange and the concept twists in his mind and hates it hates it hates itself ) sigh beneath his touch and the pause of him and his footsteps, alone.

( care for an interlude? here is a truth in the form of a corpse, a ghost : felix hugo fraldarius has known every last inch of dimitri alexandre blaiddyd for as long as either of them could remember. since well before he understood what that meant.

is that love? )

and his touch. arms slipping beneath his and wrapping around him so solidly / hands against the bare expanse of his skin / the drop of his head against his shoulder and the press of his nose against his neck, hair brushing and hair touching and the press of chest against back and the solidity of armor, the softness of fine fabric. something so love—laced he could wretch. something so adoring he could shatter. something so gentle he could scream.

he tired and he’s worn and aren’t they both? felix doesn’t need to see dimitri to know that his eyes are weary / that exhaustion has worked tirelessly to leave its permanent mark / that between them their sleepless nights threaten to suffocate them both. what a pair they make !! what a pair they are !!

i love you, he says. as if it’s so simple. as if it’s so easy. but isn’t it? cant it be so easy? lethargy pulls at him, at his muscle and his bones and dimitri’s embrace is something that dares to be FAMILIAR and his breaths against felix’s neck are a reassurance as much as they are an irritant ( tickling and ticklish but he’s far too tired to do much about it at all and each brush of that sun—touched hair carries that sensation further and further ) and THE FUCKING SAVIOR KING says he loves him. doubtlessly. lovingly, in spite of his tiredness.

it resonates, though he’s heard these words and though he knows these words and though he is familiar with the cadence of dimitri’s voice and the whole of him and the touch of him and. and.

( here’s another truth : sleeping is far easier with dimitri alongside him, something half—remembered from their dawning days when they had been together so frequently that felix had wept whenever they were parted and it’s a ghost of something and the suggestion of something, that sleeping in the same bed as him or intertwined with him or in the vicinity of him brings sleep, that elusive thing. ever closer.

here’s another truth : sleeping is far more difficult with dimitri alongside him.

how, you may ask? think about it. just think about it. )

felix combs through dimitri’s hair half—blind for all that his palm curve along his skull and his hair is smooth against his hand as his fingers curl and / tangle. an intimate touch. a touch that remains a hair too hard to be truly soft but remains devoid of aggression nor anything but THE THROB OF HIS HEART / this concept of love. this conceptual reality of love.

his head turns and dimitri’s lifts and their mouths brush and how soft. how fleeting. how unbearably gentle, these arms around him and this touch on him and this love / their love ———— the weight of their exhaustion and the watchful eyes of the night and the perishing of the moon and how felix leans back into his chest. found and found and found again. always. always?

something like that.

the kiss is lingering and soft and slow and when he pulls back he gazes at him / that that eye he knows so well / pulling at the tie to his eyepatch it falls between them, caught between their bodies. dimitri is so close ———— the amount to which he has to stoop down to make this work is frankly humorous in just about any other situation but in the here and now felix turns, properly, and dimitri just begins to straighten, arms still wrapped solidly around him. warm. alive.

he stretches up as dimitri lowers again and the press of his mouth against that knot of scar tissue once hidden is brief : there and gone again and there’s something damning here. there’s something impossible here. but hasn’t that been them, all along?

❝ you need sleep. ❞ i love you he doesn’t say, because he knows. he must. how couldn’t he?

❝ as do you, my beloved. ❞ a smile, wan. a brush of his nose against his forehead.

❝ hmph. ❞

baron settles beside the dwindling fire as they make their way towards the bed. their bed. pressed close and adoring ———— loving. loving.

@hlycrwn // i’ve loved you always , and forever , even when i didn’t.

[bert-thefrog]

The Funeral: An Edenbrook Fic - Part 2

*Part 1 Here*

Ines Delarosa’s POV

Every night this week I have woken up crying, tonight is no different. “Hey it’s okay.” Zaid stirs beside me, pulling me into his arms and stroking my hair, shushing me softly as I sob into his chest. “It’s not okay, this all my fault.” I cry harder, remember the gunshots and blood that haunt my every nightmare and honestly, my every waking moment too. “It’s because of me that Bryce is dead.” I finally choke out, Zaid pulls away, looking down at me in confusion. “I may not have been in that room, but somehow I doubt that’s true.”

“No you don’t understand, that man, his daughter died on the table, and he went to grab me. I thought my number was up, but Bryce, he launched himself at him, checked him into the shelves trying to wrestle the gun away, that’s when it went off.”

“You didn’t kill Lahela, that bastard with a gun did.” Zaid strokes my back as I break down in tears again. “I wish it had been me, not him.”

“Don’t say that, Bryce wouldn’t want you thinking like that.”

“But it’s true, he deserved to live!”

“So do you Ines, Bryce would have wanted you to use the gift he’s given you. Not spend all your time crying.”

“You shouldn’t even be here. I’m sorry, I know you and Jeremy just moved in together.”

“He’s worried about you too, and I’m right where I’m supposed to be, I’ll be here until you don’t need me.”

“I’ll always need you.” I confess to my best friend and he gives me a half-smile.

“I know.”

Harper Emery’s POV

It’s not typically the done thing for an administrator to attend the funeral of a surgical intern, especially when the funeral is a plane ride away in Hawaii. Then again, it’s not the done thing to allow your surgical intern to be shot and bleed out on hospital property. I know doctor Valentine is here somewhere, but I’d prefer not to seek her out. Too late. I spy a head of red hair in the church, way down the front as I lurk in the back pews. Watching her cry into her lap, I feel a twinge of pity, but it dissipates into the familiar sense of rage and jealousy I’ve come to know in this last week. Why did he ask for her in his last moments? Were they sleeping together? Did I really mean that little to him? I mentally slap myself for thinking like this, the man was dying in front of me and all I can do is feel sorry for myself that I wasn’t the one he wanted to hold him as he did. I stare blankly at the coffin at the top of the room, he’s not really in there, his ashes are already in an urn, ready to be scattered to the waves according to his parents. His parents are so cold, so clinical about the loss of their only son, I wonder if they’re really just aliens sent to pose as his mom and dad. Bryce often joked about that, that his parents were from another planet entirely. I bite my tongue to subdue the cry that wants to break free from my chest at the thought of him, I’ve grown used to the pain, that makes me want to scream as it builds; only released when I’m finally alone at night and am free to sob hysterically into a pillow, cradling it to myself as I remember him, my skin burning along every inch of my body he touched, and believe me; he touched all of them. The way he bit his lip when he looked at me, made me feel like I was the only woman he’d ever see, ever want again. Involuntarily, my head snaps up to stare at Casey Valentine as I realize that one may not have been entirely true. The pastor steps up to the pulpit, beginning her sermon and I force myself to focus, I want to say goodbye properly, I have to let go of him. For both our sakes.

I don’t know what possesses me, as I march up to Casey after the funeral though I am on a mission. She’s alone, hands in her pockets as she watches everyone leave. “How long were you sleeping together?”

“Excuse me?” She spins to face me, eyes alight.

“You and Lahela. How long?” I grit my teeth. She doesn’t reply, standing there silently fuming as we stare one another down.

“Count yourself lucky you’re my boss, otherwise you’d be getting such a slap right now.” She glares at me, hands balled into fists at her sides. “I’m sorry.” I deflate, finally realizing what I’m saying, what I’m doing and back away slowly. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper again, running away down the church path and out into the road below. Casey watches me go, her face creased with confusion. How many girls did he sleep with? When he was spending the night with me, waking up to eat breakfast in my apartment, was there another woman waiting for her turn? Harper Emery, you may just be the woman who tames me. He’d winked at me as I got dressed one morning, watching from my bed with his arms anchored behind his head and a lazy smirk dancing round his lips. God I was so stupid.

Casey Valentine’s POV

That bitch. How dare she come up to me at Bryce’s funeral of all places, to accuse me of sleeping with him. It was none of her business. None. I almost wish I’d said yes, just to see the look on her face, but the truth was we hadn’t been together, not for a long time. Eventually we were just best friends, I was focused on winning the competition and he, I don’t know what he was focused on. I think there was another woman. Watching Chief Emery flee down the steep slope from the church I have to wonder. Is she the mystery woman? I almost burst out laughing, no way. Bryce was good, but there was no way he’d seduced Dr Harper Emery of all people, not to the point she’d behave like a jealous schoolgirl. It feels good, to smile even for the briefest of seconds, but suddenly my grief swings back heavily, almost knocking the wind from my chest, as though punishing me for feeling the slightest bit of happiness now Bryce is dead.

Ethan Ramsey’s POV

Harper texted me she’d be home tonight. That means Casey will be home soon too. The interns have been withdrawn lately, shut down and closed off to one another since Lahela’s death. Not that I blame them. It’s just, it’s a lot. I blame myself, if I hadn’t ordered him to come with me, if he hadn’t been in that room, he’d still be alive. But what’s done is done, I think to myself regretfully, pouring another glass of scotch, watching the amber liquid flow against the cut crystal before raising it to the empty apartment. Here’s to you, Bryce Lahela. I take a swig, only to be interrupted by an insistent knocking on the door. Harper Emery stands before me, hunched up and small, her arms wound tightly around herself as though that’s the only way she can hold herself together. “Are you okay?” I let her in, guiding her to the couch before she can collapse.

“I was sleeping with him you know?”

“You what?” I nearly drop my glass as she rocks back and forward, gazing across the room with a vacant expression. I am not hearing this.

“I honestly thought he loved me back, how stupid is that?” She laughs bitterly.

“You’re talking about..”

“Dr. Lahela yes.”

“Harper he was an intern, what were you thinking?” I snap at her, only to stop when she begins to cry. In all my years of knowing her, Harper Emery has rarely cried.

“Why didn’t he want me to hold him Ethan? I didn’t get to say goodbye.” She draws her knees to her chest, weeping like a child as I stand there helplessly.

“I’ll get you a drink.” I move towards the kitchen, not good with this kind of discussion.

“I can’t drink.” She watches me carefully, as I stop, sitting down beside her.

“Why not?” I watch her as her hands flutter to her stomach without thinking, I already know the answer as she cradles a nonexistent bump tenderly.

“I found out last night. Ethan what do I do?” She follows my gaze, realizing what I’ve seen, that I know what she’s confessing to. I’m speechless, for once I, Ethan Ramsey do not have a solution. Instead I wind my arms around her, letting her get tears and snot down my good cashmere sweater as I console her. “Why didn’t he let me hold him Ethan?” She hiccups, but I can’t say anything, just hold her harder, my boss, my former lover, all of that disappears as I realize what she needs more than anything is her friend right now. “I’ll be there.” I promise her, covering her own hands with my own. “For both of you.”

*Tagging: @lilyofchoices @jax-matsuo-clan @msjpuddleduck let me know if anyone else wants tagging if I do a part 3*

*I wrote this hungover in like half an hour this morning so if you’ve any suggestions or criticism, load ‘em up*

[loxxxlay]

No

NGL, this ask sounds ominous af, but idk what the deal is, so have a free prompt fill that you probably didn’t want lmao. i only spent an hour on it, so ... hope yall are still able to enjoy

cw grandthorki, frostmaster, dubcon, noncon

for mobile users, there is a read more cut.

***

"No,” Loki said.

“I’m sorry—what did you just say?” There was a dangerous edge to the Grandmaster’s voice—a sharpness beneath the calm.

A tremor rolled down Loki’s spine, and he couldn’t meet the Grandmaster’s eyes. He was too afraid—head ducked, hands clasped in front of him like a shield, feet angled to back away—but he didn’t change his mind. He didn’t take the out the Grandmaster was offering him.

“No,” he said again. “I won’t do it.”

The barrenness of silence descended upon them. Nothing. Nothing but Thor’s faint snores where he lay unconscious and bound in the steel chair, an obedience disc embedded in the flesh of his throat. Loki didn’t look at him either.

“You know, I gotta say,” the Grandmaster said, “this is rather disappointing.” He stopped and claimed a seat on the edge of the nearby bed.

Loki dared to look at him, and the Grandmaster’s eyes were alight with both a friendly smile and a flicker of annoyance.

At Loki’s attention, he shook his head, a soft couple of tsk’s spilling from his lips. “After all I’ve done for you, all the favors I’ve granted you, and you won’t even give me the benefit of a good show in return?”

“The favors.” Loki scoffed. “You call them favors for me? I’ve all but been made your concubine.”

“My, my concubine?” The Grandmaster laughed. “Lo Lo, my dear, you are the one who begged for my attention. Actually, I’m pretty sure you are the one who first asked to make me, uh, happy, even the first time we did anything remotely sexual. The first day you showed up on Sakaar and intruded on my party without permission? And all the times after that, weren’t you the one who, uh, initiated? At least, most of the time?”

Loki pressed his lips together. It was true. Norns, it was true. “Yes. Because I had no better—because you gave me no other—”

“Am I to understand, sweetpea, that you were lying about what you wanted? All this time?”

And this was it—the final escape, the final point of return. Loki straightened himself to his full height and lifted his chin. This time, he met the Grandmaster’s eyes as he said it. “Yes,” he hissed. “Yes. Every single time. I never wanted to, I never—you forced me. Even if you never used your power or influence, there has always been the threat of it.”

The irritation in the Grandmaster’s amber eyes flared. “My dear, see. You put me in a sort of, well, let’s just come at it. An uncomfortable situation. I’m not really sure what to make of it.” Smile intact, he leaned back and stared thoughtfully, looking Loki over as if he were a piece of defective furniture. “See, you say you were lying then—but what if you are lying now? Which am I to believe?”

“I’m not lying,” Loki snapped. He could feel himself losing control of the conversation, being funneled into a corner, but he couldn’t find his way out. (There was no way out. Not with him.) “You know I’m not. You’ve always known how I felt about it. You’re sick. You’re absolutely perverse, and you can’t make me pretend any—”

Without warning, the Grandmaster was on his feet and stalking forward.

Instinctively, Loki was in front of his sleeping brother in a defensive stance before the Grandmaster could cross half the room. Loki’s heart throbbed with adrenaline, his veins coursed, and the well of his magic readied, useless as it would be. Whatever confidence Loki had recovered drained at the sight of this monster’s wilted smile—the truth of the raw power, the boundless sadism—and Loki could only hope in vain that if he was struck down, then Thor would not follow. That Thor would escape somehow.

But then, the Grandmaster stopped and laughed again. He held his arms up in a shrug. “Aww, dear, don’t look so terrified. I’m not going to hurt you. In fact— it’s clear to me, that we’ve had a, uh, communication problem, hmm? If you couldn’t even—well, trust me to say what you were feeling until now, then, jee, I guess I gotta do something about that.”

Loki didn’t move. His heart ached to hear those words. He wanted to believe, he wanted to so much that his chest felt like it would burst, that his knees nearly buckled, that his mouth almost pled for the Grandmaster’s forgiveness—but it wasn’t true. He forced himself to know it.

“Your brother, on the other hand,” and the Grandmaster waved over Loki’s shoulder, “doesn’t seem to have that problem with you. Just a guess, but from where I’m standing, it looks like you’d do about anything for him.” He raised an eyebrow, and the threat of his power remained palpable, as if squeezing the air. “So why is this where you draw the line?”

Disgust twisted Loki’s stomach. He shoved the images that the Grandmaster had suggested earlier out of his mind. “I’m not attracted to him. He’s my brother.”

“Oh, but sex doesn’t have to be about attraction, dear. Although . . .” His eyes flickered over Loki’s body. “. . . it definitely can be. But haven’t you agreed with me countless times? Sex is about favor. About showing your gratitude. Which reminds me.”

Loki swallowed.

“Isn’t there just one little favor I granted for you?” the Grandmaster asked. “Something to do with, oh, I don’t know, the reason your little Sparkles is here in the first place?”

In that moment, Loki had wished he’d let Thor go to his doom in the arena. He wished he’d never spoken, when the Grandmaster waved the remote and had Thor’s chair rolling him towards the door, towards the prison chambers where the gladiator combatants awaited battle. He hadn’t even meant to speak; the words had just bubbled out of his throat in a moment of panic.

And here he was, facing the consequences. Trembling, Loki shook his head. “I won’t do it,” he whispered in the tone of a plea. Because whatever the Grandmaster did to him, he would not suck Thor’s cock. He would not violate his brother in such a way. He would rather die.

The Grandmaster smiled. The irritation visibly faded. “Okey dokes,” he said.

Confused, Loki blinked. “What?”

“Alright! Sure! I won’t ask you to do it, darling.”

Loki stood where he was, frozen in place. He didn’t—he had heard the words, but he couldn’t comprehend them. Or rather, he could comprehend them, but he didn’t believe them.

And he was right not to.

In the next moment, the Grandmaster was stepping past him—and Loki tried to block him, but something was holding him in place. He struggled, but it wouldn’t budge. And it thrummed against his body like a foreign heartbeat, pressing in on him, squashing his own magic as if it were particularly bothersome fly. Trapped and gasping, Loki watched helplessly, as the Grandmaster placed hands on either side of Thor’s temple.

Thor’s blue eyes opened, sleep-logged. “Loki?” he murmured sleepily. “Where are—”

The Grandmaster’s power sunk into Thor’s head.

NO—

Loki might have shouted. He might have screamed, too. His terror and panic and hate howled over the white noise of his senses because he thought Thor was dying. He thought Thor was dead.

Then Thor blinked, but his blue eyes had turned gold.

“What did you do to him?” Loki shrieked. “What did you do to him?”

“Oh, hun,” the Grandmaster said, even as he pressed the buttons to release Thor’s wrists from their confines. Even as he dropped whatever spell had held Loki still. “You could stand to learn a little gratitude. And well. Who better to teach you than someone that you, uh, that you trust so dearly?”

Thor advanced on him.

Before Loki could think to fight, his backside had hit the bed, and his wrists were locked in Thor’s grip, and his mouth was crushed by his brother’s lips. And Loki was left wishing he’d simply said yes to begin with. Thor would still never look at him the same way again, Thor was still being violated, but now Loki had lost the chance to decide how.

The Grandmaster’s laughter haunted him all throughout the night.

[skelenyxx]

Four - “here is where nightmares come out to play” ~ Haunted

If you think about it, time travels in strange ways. Everyone's perspective of it is different. To one person, an hour could seem to only last five minutes while to someone else, it could seemingly last three hours. Time isn't solid, it's not a reality. Time is an idea, a figment of imagination created by the human race to suit our perspective of reality. Most people assume it to be a strict progression of cause to effect, but from a nonlinear, non subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey... Stuff. It changes, morphs to fit our version of reality.

This was the reality Gerard was facing. Because perhaps the world outside this hell was still moving. But to Gerard, time went on forever in his own mind as he tried helplessly to block out the horror he was in. Minutes drug on for hours, days, perhaps months even. Gerard's reality was warped.

But isn't everyone's?

Gerard sat staring at the white wall across from him, knees pulled to his chest, back still pressed against the same wall that had once been a door. The tears had long since stopped, but that didn't mean his mind had. He could still hear Frank's screams. With every blink of his eyes, he saw his best friend being pulled into the darkness. He wished he had done more. He shouldn't have let go. For all he knew, Frank was dead and it was his fault. He didn't even know if Ray and his brother were okay.

He should have never even agreed to explore this damn place.

Not exactly to say that they were even still in the house, because truly, Gerard didn't know.

"Gee..."

Gerard jolted to his feet as though he'd been shocked with a bolt of electricity.

"Frank?" He called out, searching the white walls for the millionth time in hopes of seeing a sign of his friend.

"Help me."

The voice sounded desperate, barely above a whisper and Gerard wondered where it was coming from. He knew it was Frank, but he couldn't figure out how he could hear him.

"Where are you?" Gerard asked, whirling around desperately and searching the walls for a way out.

"Help me! Please!"

"Tell me where you are!" Gerard pleaded.

"It hurts so much..."

Gerard wanted to cry out as he registered the pain seeping into his friend's voice.

"You promised you'd find me."

"I'm going to! I swear I will!" Gerard pounded on the wall in fury and frustration, hating being trapped in a doorless room while his friends lie helpless and possibly even dying.

"You promised."

Gerard screamed at the wall, pounding on it and willing a door to appear like it had before. His friends needed him. His brother needed him. He couldn't sit around anymore, wallowing in his own self pity.

"Find me."

"Where am I?"

"What's going on?"

"Don't! Please don't!"

"Who are you?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I can't do this anymore!"

"Stay away from me!"

"Why can't you just leave us alone?!"

"What have you done with my brother?"

"He promised!"

"YOU PROMISED!"

The voices of his friends and brother filled the room, growing louder until they were shouting, drowning out Gerard's own thoughts as he struggled to process what was happening. They were pain filled, agonizing pleads that made Gerard want to vomit. His friends were hurting and he couldn't even get out a goddamn room.

"Find them."

Gerard knew that voice, and the very sound of it made his skin crawl. He had yet to be able to place a face to the voice, but he doubted he wanted to. But for once, he didn't question the orders given to him by it.

He had to find them.

Silence had fallen over the white room, leaving Gerard alone with his thoughts again. He began to think about all the horror movies he'd ever seen and tried to think of any typical circumstances he could apply to escaping a doorless room.

His first thought was that there was a hidden door. And perhaps that seemed too cliche, but at the moment Gerard could care less. He scoured the walls looking for hidden buttons or levers, tripwires even. Anything that could reveal a door. But nothing revealed itself to him.

His gaze landed on the only source of light in the room: the candle mounted on the wall. He moved to it swiftly, analyzing its antique model and flickering light before he reached out gently, only barely having touched it before it pushed into the wall, enveloping the light source like a mouth.

Gerard watched in awe as the wall across from him slid away, revealing get another endless hallway, only this one was white.

One foot was placed in front of another as he shakily stepped out into the hallway.  Just as he has suspected, as he left the room, the wall sealed behind him, leaving nothing but a cracked white wall in its wake.  Gerard took a deep breath and began to walk wearily down the endless corridor.

Gerard had thought the last corridor had been creepy.  It didn't even come close to this one.  The pristine white walls were cracked in places, leaving small cobweb filled holes marking the perfectly smooth surface. The floor was shining linoleum and the light source was that of flickering light panels like those in a hospital.  Gerard wondered if that's what this was: a hospital.  There were no doors, windows, or even any sign of the end of the hall. It just went on forever and ever into oblivion.

Gerard marched on, his fire red hair stark in the monochromatic environment. He felt as though he were being watched.  The white walls stared at him glaringly, judging his movements and analyzing the perfect way to kill him.

At least, that's how it felt.

But eventually, the environment changed.  It changed in the form of red writing on the wall and Gerard hoped that the crimson liquid was not blood.

After all, that would be horribly cliche.

Your mind isn't your own.

Gerard stared at the words as though they'd been tattooed on his arm.  He felt that prickling feeling again, the one of being watched. He whirled around, gold flecked eyes scanning the area before his gaze landing on more writing further ahead.  He ran to it, mind buzzing with worry and heart pounding in fear.

Here is where nightmares come out to play.

Gerard felt his throat tighten in fear as the words imprinted in his mind.  The small drops of red escaping from the lettering made Gerard want to vomit.  He as nearly positive it was blood, but whose blood was the question.

The dim lights above went out for a moment, flickering dead to leave Gerard suspended in darkness.  He clenched his eyes shut, hoping that he wouldn't be taken too.  The fear gripped him like a fist, threatening to tear him apart from the inside as he struggled to reign it in. Every breath was staggered and every step in the lightless void was shaky and uncertain.

Gerard wanted it to end.

After what was only seconds but felt like an eternity, the light came back on.  Gerard now found himself at a door, one that reminded him too much of the swinging plastic doors in a hospital.  The flickering light certainly wasn't helping.

Just beside the door was two more words.

FIND THEM!

Gerard gulped loudly, mustering up just enough courage to step through the doors.

He wished he hadn't.

As the doors sealed behind him, it became blatantly obvious that this wasn't just a hospital.  This was an asylum.  The walls of the large room were lined with with barred doors, some open and some locked shut.  Random carts sat around holding nasty looking medical tools and some that Gerard thought looked more like torture devices.

Gerard thought his heart nearly stopped as he heard a crash come from around the corner followed by some not-so-human-like moans.  Holding his breath, he tentatively grabbed a scalpel from a tray and approached the sound.

Gerard was afraid of what he'd find, but he wasn't expecting to find nothing. All there were was were more walls with doors.  No horrible creature to fend of or poltergeist to exorcize.

That was until Gerard heard the rattled breathing behind him, sending every blood vessel nearly exploding in fear.  He turned around slowly, still firmly holding the scalpel in his hand, and came face to face, well, nearly face to face, with something that only a nightmare could concoct.

It looked nearly human.  It was incredibly tall,  lanky thin limbs and ashen pale shin.  It's arms were wrapped in a straight jacket, keeping its nasty looking claws away. But the most horrifying part was the face. No eyes or nose, but a large mouth filled entirely with razor sharp needle like teeth dropping with saliva and what Gerard could only hope wasn't blood.

Gerard did what any smart person would do.

He ran.