#I know this because my sister would often send pictures of bloody animals to try and get me to see the light. it's bullshit

[scenicphoenix]

I care for my sister a lot, I really do. But some of the things she says and does just makes me so upset. Honestly I would like to cut contact. But I only know two to three people in real life and my sister is one of them, and my sister is legally blind and needs help getting places. (Mom won't be around forever and she isn't showing an interest in getting to know other people besides me and Mom)

She has no idea what boundaries are, and is so oblivious that it seems like she's trying to be malicious. I know she's not doing a lot of what she does to me specifically on purpose, but there is only so much I can take. Especially when she just doesn't listen to me even when I am practically begging her to just stop. I have had to pull the Mom card recently to get her to stop crossing my boundaries. She listened to mom and her counselor before the person literally saying "fucking stop". She had to be told by two people, who should have had nothing to do with our fight, that she had completely crossed a line and did everything completely wrong she possibly could have done wrong. Instead of the person begging her to stop, to stop crossing the line, to stop talking, to just stop. What is it about me that she won't respect. Is it because I'm the little sibling, is it because I wasn't perfectly fucking calm. She called my anger irrational. I think my anger was perfectly rational. With the shit she was doing and saying. With her once again crossing my boundaries even though I have shown her where the line is. Even when I literally said stop and she continued anyway.

There is just some things me and my sister should not be talking about. Because we have different opinions. We have different morals. So some topics are off limits. She often ignores this. An example of a topic? She's a Terf. She's into a particular anime trope. I have told her not to mention that anime trope. She likes to say that the anime trope isn't transphobic because it's "only in anime". Hell some of her views on things are enough for me to want to try and cut contact. She's bigoted and falls so easily down far right conspiracy rabbit holes. She's listened to Fox fucking news over me and sources I've shown her. Her morals are very middle-class bigoted white woman, cares more about animal welfare than human beings, she's into eugenics no matter how much she denies it. Which I find confusing because both me and her grew up disabled in major poverty in the goddamned country. I suppose my sister is proof of how strong propaganda and misinformation is. How does someone in the country think shearing sheep kills them, that all animal farming is bad. And yet also ignores that slavery still exists. And the thing is that when I told her our morals are different because I care more about people and she cares more about animals, she didn't deny it. She wanted to, but she couldn't.

Why won't she listen to anything I say but will with others? How come she disrespects me more than anyone else? She has done this even before I was trans, so I know it's not that. She has even asked herself why she treats me differently than others. So she realizes that she does this but doesn't know why. My best guesses are: I am the little sibling I am supposed to be dumber. My mood disorders and overall mental health. My physical resemblance to our dad, she has BAD memories of that asshole. She's competitive. She wants things to be like "the old days" even though the "old days" she remembers never really existed.

[speechlessxx]

Bring Him Light - Prologue (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The Princess of York is to be sent away to marry the Brooken King. 

Warnings: Steve’s not in this chapter. Patriarchy. Tony’s not winning father of the year. Possible Dark Themes (in the future). 

Word Count: 1.8k 

This was gonna be longer, but I wanted y’alls opinion before I went ahead and made this a series. 

Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what y’all think.

Bring Him Light Masterlist

(The gif isn’t mine and it’s kinkier than i wanted it to be sorry... no bondage in this one) 

Next Part ->

The coarse ropes dug into your skin as you twisted and turned your wrists in hopes to loosen the knot. You were sure they’d leave marks. You bit your lip to suppress the pained whimper that threatened to escape but paid no attention to the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It wasn’t as if your captor would’ve seen. The burlap sack over your head made sure of that.

Every time the cart jostled due to the uneven roads, you felt the crops – your travel companions as it seemed – roll around, often smacking against you. You tried to reach backwards with your bound wrists, searching for an arrow in your quiver. But it seemed as if your captor had rid you of them.

You felt the dirt on your skin. It was all over your legs and feet – you had forgone your shoes, the heels would’ve made your escape twice as difficult. The earth had settled itself into your pores and between your toes, leaving an uncomfortable feeling that made you cringe.

As the ride became smoother, you knew you were closer to the castle. You stopped fumbling with your bound wrists and rested your head against the back of the cart in defeat. There was no use in trying to escape. You lost your chance. No one would let you go now.

Soon the cart had stopped altogether and the rider – your captor – had retrieved you, carrying you in his arms. You were exhausted. All the fight in you had been extinguished in your attempt to flee. It had been at least two days since you’ve last eaten. You couldn’t even remember if you gave yourself an opportunity to fall asleep.

“Your majesty!” The man carrying you bellowed out as you heard doors open. “I’ve brought you a gift.” The man had put you down and though you couldn’t find the strength to stand, you tried your best to steady yourself. The bag had been removed from your head – you were sure your hair was a mess – but you kept your glare as you stood your ground. The man handed the king a broken piece of wood and you felt your stomach drop in realization. “I’ve broken her bow. My apologies.”

“Thank you, Thor,” the king nodded. His face was expressionless as he stared you down. “I’ll be sure to pay you well, huntsman, for bringing back my daughter.”

The huntsman grunted in response before he bowed. He left the throne room without another word. The councilmen stood beside your father, whispering to one another as they all took in your state.

Dirt pressed into your skin. The dress you wore was days old and torn from your tussle with the huntsman. Your hair – which was normally so clean and plaited elegantly – was in shambles and stood up in various spots. Your wrists were bound together, and a skinny strand of blood trickled down your arms due to the tight knot. If the men didn’t know any better, you looked like a common peasant – not a princess.

Your face was flushed as your rage boiled inside you. Your father quipped up an eyebrow as if expecting you to scream – to shout and curse at him – but all you did was glare in silence. And if looks could kill, he’d be dead three times over.

“You,” your father finally said as he narrowed his eyes, “sent the castle into a frenzy looking for you.” He walked towards you, disappointment and exhaustion written on his face. “That was incredibly reckless.”

“Little girls tend to be so, your grace,” one of the councilmen chided. The others at his side chuckled. “Which is why they become pretty accessories, not rulers.”

“They say men who are well endowed give their wives sons. I wonder, my lord, why you and your wife only have daughters,” you snapped. The chuckling immediately stopped.

The noble glared at you. He pointed his finger at you and yelled, “you little – “before being interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“My love, is it true–“ the throne room doors opened and you carefully turned to see your mother. Her smile quickly faded the moment she saw your condition – the tattered dress, dirty feet, messy hair, arms bound. A frown settled on her beautiful face before she dismissed her ladies. “Leave us,” she ordered. Her ladies rushed away, but the councilmen stayed. Your mother scowled at the men. “I said leave us.”

“Your grace,” they murmured. “Your highness,” they bowed to you. The man you insulted moments ago gave you one last glare before following the others.

“My sweet girl,” your mother sighed, rushing towards you. She cupped your face in her hands and wiped some of the grime from your cheeks. She tutted before grabbing your wrists. She winced when she saw the blood and the reddening skin underneath the tight knot. “I thought you told Thor to be gentle, Anthony.”

“I told him to do whatever was necessary,” your father shrugged, “to ensure our daughter’s safe return.”

Your mother scoffed as she tried to unravel the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “She is a princess, and you paraded her in front of the nobles as if she’s some prisoner, tied up like an animal.”

“If she only acted like a princess, then none of this would be necessary,” your father rebutted.

“If you hadn’t sold me like a broodmare, then I wouldn’t have run!” You shot back. You pulled you away from your mother to walk towards your father, pointing a finger at him with your wrists still bound together. “I won’t go through with this. I swear it! I will not marry him!”

Your father curled his lip and he slapped your hand away from him. “You will because it is your duty!” he snapped. “A marriage alliance will unite the two great nations of the north! No one will ever dare go to war on the northern kingdoms – not when we stand together.”

“You were at war with him nearly three years ago!” You argued. “If you want an alliance, draw up a treaty! Better yet, ask the Brooken king to meet you for supper!” You felt tears prick in your eyes. You were frustrated and angry. You didn’t like to argue with your father. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then we will have another war.”

“At the cost of my life!”

“Tony, stop it,” your mother chirped. Her hands found your shoulders as she tried to calm your anger.

“Tell him no, mother, please.” If anyone could get through to your stubborn father and talk some sense into him, it would be your mother. You prayed that she’d be on your side – that she wouldn’t send off her eldest daughter to another kingdom just to be an accessory to a prideful king. She averted her eyes from you to look back at your father. “This isn’t a lesson you’re sending me off to. This is the rest of my life. I’ll be some man’s breeder. I’ll be his whore by law and if I try to run, he can kill me.”

“Then, don’t run,” your father sighed. He walked over to you and pulled a blade from his cloak. Your mother gave him a startled look and he responded with a shrug as if to say you never know when you need it. He carefully sawed through the knot, releasing you from your bindings. “This is for your own good. This is for the good of the two kingdoms.”

“if you need a treaty so badly, then send a bloody diplomat!” You screamed and rubbed at the wounded skin. “Why send a bride?”

“He needs a queen he can trust,” your father said.

“You’re condemning me to a loveless marriage!”

“That is not written in stone,” your mother reasoned. She reached for your father and he took her hand. You watched as their fingers intertwined.

“Your bond is different. He’s a different man than father.”

“If York falls, Brooken follows… But not if we stand together. Do you not understand the threat we are all under?” Your father frowned. “The Mad King Thanos is overthrowing monarch after monarch. His empire steadily grows and I’m afraid if we do not unite the north, then we will all perish. Think of your little brother, Harvey. If I die at the hands of Thanos, he’s too young to lead a kingdom – to lead our men into war and win it. Think of baby Morgan. Your little sister brought into the world only months ago. If Thanos comes tomorrow, do you think he’ll have mercy on her? I can assure you that he won’t. He’s killed men, women, and children alike. He’ll kill her without hesitation.

“Please, my daughter, my eldest. If you will not do this for me – for your country, do it for them.”

“If I die, my blood is not on his hands. It will be on yours.” You spat. “How will you live knowing that you’ve condemned your eldest child to her death?”

Your father sighed. There was no use in arguing anymore. You got your stubbornness from the Stark blood that flowed through your veins.

“Your things have been packed and loaded into a carriage. Your ladies have already begun their journey. You leave at nightfall.” Your father nodded with clenched teeth. He gave you one last look. “King Steven is eager to meet you.” 

»»————-　⚜　————-««

King Steven was said to love art. They say he often painted in the courtyard or in the gardens. He collected paintings and sculptures. He’s fond of decorations, they tell you. His favorite decorum was said to be the corpses of his enemies, strung up along the castle walls. A reminder to those who wished for his demise and those who plotted against him that he was and would always be victorious.

He was said to be cruel. You heard stories that he was a ruthless killer on the battlefield – that he wouldn’t stop slashing at his foe until his sword and armor were coated in their blood. You were told he never smiled and from the portraits you’ve seen of the man, it seemed to be true. He was handsome in the pictures you’ve seen. Short blonde hair, strong jaw, blue eyes. But looks could only compensate for so much.

He was married twice before. Queen Margaret and Queen Sharon. Both from the now extinct House Carter. Both queens died before they could give King Steven a child – a son.

You didn’t know the circumstances of their deaths, but some say the king was cursed. How unfortunate and unlucky does a man have to be to lose both his wives? But others have told you a different story. A story that was far more twisted and frightening.

Others claim that King Steven killed his queens.

The servants couldn’t blame you when you snuck away, bow and quiver full of arrows in hand. They even covered for you when you left through the kitchen’s exit.

But they were just rumors… How true could they be?

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #24: Fly Like an Eagle, Run Like a Wolf

(Content Warning: This chapter contains brief descriptions of gore.)

The street was glowing with fire, the moans of the Lost carried through the desolate waste that was the remains of New York. The city had long ago been lost to the pods, and with said pods came the frankly beautiful plant growth that had begun to infest the streets, tinting everything natural green. Trees wrapped around buildings, roots cut across the roadways. New York, once the city that never slept, was now at peace with the call of the wild.

The firelight glinted off of Lars’s glasses as he and Cruzita sat on opposite sides of the fire. She had a Viper’s corpse laid out in front of her, and was using the tip of her black-bladed knife to split the delicate, scaled skin down the middle. Pulling apart the flesh, her skinny fingers dove into the mammary-like appendages on the Viper’s chest, and clawed out the still full venom sacs. Cruzita smiled joyfully and held them up. “Poison.”

“I see.” Lars chuckled at her enthusiasm. To the other Reapers she was a terror, but he had long since gotten used to her quirks. “What are you planning to do with it, Cruz?”

“I don’t know yet.” She put them delicately to one side. “Maybe taint my knife, but poison bullets are so useful too, and we haven’t had many of those.”

Lars looked down at the gun on his lap. “A game of poison paintball?”

“And a paintbrush for you.” She giggled, cracking open the Viper’s ribs with her bare hands. “With bristles made of Chryssalid antennae, and paint made of venom.”

“Perhaps.” He sighed. “Oh, part of me still misses my old paints, with colors that were bright and happy…”

Cruzita looked up at him, then at the large, empty-looking building they sat under. The windows were black, but every so often they flickered with activity. It let her know her comrades were still watching.

“When the war is over, perhaps I shall return to Larochette.” Lars continued. “If my old studio is there.”

“This war will never be over.” Cruzita, with one fluid motion, folded the skin from the Viper corpse and ripped it free; bloody, but in one piece. “Not while these monsters are still here.”

Lars sighed. “Cruz, you must-”

Her green eyes bore holes in him. “You have something to go back to, Lars.” She hissed. “I am not that lucky.”

“You have me.” He slid over beside her. She dwarfed him, but that was another fact he had accepted years ago. He reached for her bloody hand, entwining his fingers with hers. “This war will not be over until you free this hatred from your heart, mein chér.”

She looked past his glasses and into his blue-grey eyes. “This hatred is what keeps us safe.” She whispered. “It keeps me afraid, and it keeps me alive.”

.

.

Dhar-Mon would never admit that he saw things in the shadows.

Ugly faces (like his own) stared at him from corners where innocuous objects lay. He tried turning over in bed, pulling the covers over himself like a frightened child, but even then he could feel their evil eyes staring at him, watching him.

He’d had trouble sleeping before; this was in no way a new thing. But in his stronghold, he had always had the constant whispering of the Elders to reassure him that he was not alone. Even when they were berating him, insulting him for failure or even threatening to reclaim him, he was at least with someone. He was at least not alone.

Now they were gone. And now he was alone, and the demons were approaching fast.

Dhar-Mon’s large hand darted out from under the blanket and turned on his bedside light, sending the shadows scurrying back into hiding, as though they had never been there. He looked around for a moment, checking to ensure he really was alone. That seemed to only make it worse.

He glanced at the clock. 4:45. His sister would be awake soon, but she did not like being disturbed during her meditation, and the thought of asking his baby sister for help because HE had trouble sleeping...it was a humiliating prospect at best.

He pulled the blankets to his chin and took a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. It almost exploded when someone knocked at the door.

Dhar-Mon had never been so terrified in his life, except maybe in the presence of his cruel mother, Abyzou. With his voice softer and weaker than he was used to, he called out “You may enter.”

The door slid open and a very sleepy Malinalli stepped inside. Her curly hair was wild and messy, and her green eyes were still clouded.

“Hey.” She murmured in a hushed voice. “Is everything okay?”

He paused. “...All is...well.” He was lying through his teeth. “What makes you question me at such an early hour?”

“I...dunno. Just felt something was wrong.” She shrugged. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Something just told me to come see you.” She blinked, her eyes finally focusing on him. “You look awful, have you slept at all tonight?”

He tried to say yes, but like a child, he felt tears welling up that he couldn’t stop. “...No.” He whimpered.

“Why? What happened?” Malinalli sat on his bed, looking so worried. It made him feel even worse, but now the floodgates were open.

“When the lights are off, and I am alone…” He sniffled. “I imagine shadows in the darkness, reaching out with great clawed hands to grab me in the night, where I will be...stolen away.”

Malinalli relaxed and let loose a soft chuckle. “Dhar-Mon, I...we’d never let that happen.”

“You would not get there in time.” He snapped. “I am...afraid to sleep alone.” He was dying from the shame. “My mind used to be consoled by the Elders’ presence. No matter how toxic, at least they were there…”

Malinalli reached out and grasped his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared of the dark.” She chuckled. “I’d offer to sleep here with you, but that’d be weird I think…” He could swear he saw the hint of a blush on her face when she said it. In fact, he wanted to scream yes, please, sleep here. But that would be inappropriate. He was not his brother, after all.

She stood up. “I might have an idea. Are you dressed?”

He nodded. “In my sleeping clothes.”

“Good, follow me.” She took his hand and, with her tiny strength, hauled him to his feet. He felt safer with her hand in his.

She pulled him down the empty halls of the Avenger. Nobody was awake at this hour, except a few he could tell hadn’t gone to sleep yet. She made her way to the girl’s dorm, where Dhar-Mon stood outside the door, refusing to enter the sleeping quarters of so many women.

When Malinalli returned, she was holding something large and fluffy looking in her arms. She closed the door as quietly as she could, then held it out to him. “This is Glaucus.”

“...I beg your pardon?” He asked, looking down at the...stuffed...creature. 

“I named him Glaucus because of his ears.” She lifted one of the animal’s fluffy ears. “They’re blue underneath. And so is his mane.” She patted the blue tuft of fur on top of it’s head. “Glaucus is my old stuffed horse.”

“A stuffed horse?” He took the plush creature from her hands. It looked cartoonish, with floppy limbs and huge, glass eyes that stared off into space. “...I have seen pictures of horses, Malinalli. There is no possibility this is the result of taxidermy.”

Malinalli laughed until she remembered she had to be quiet. “No no, it’s not. It’s supposed to look fake.” She clarified. “Stuffed animals are made to look cute and inviting. It’s comforting.”

He looked over the creature again. It was weirdly cute. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“It’s to sleep with.” Malinalli said. “You cuddle it in your sleep. It helps you feel safe.”

“And how is a stuffed horse going to protect me from the darkness of my own imagination?” He growled.

She almost seemed to deflate, the enthusiasm leaving her eyes. “Well I mean...it works for me.”

Seeing her without her beaming smile made his heart hurt in a way he did not know it could. Desperate, he looked over the creature again and smiled. “If you say it helps, Molly, then I shall trust your judgement. You have never led me astray yet, I doubt you would now.”

She smiled again, but looked nervous. “...You sure I never did?”

“I am certain.” He bowed. “Thank you for this generous gift…”

“Always, Dhar-Mon…” She looked like she wanted to say something else. “Um…have a good night, okay?”

“I shall try.” He said, almost sadly, as he watched her slip back into the women’s barracks.

.

.

Gur-Rai shook out his leg as Tygan unwrapped his bandages. “Thanks Doc.” The skin around the healed wound still tangled a bit, but overall, it was like he’d never even been bit.

“You can thank me by being more careful.” Tygan sighed. “It seems as though after every mission you end up here.”

“But how could I resist the calls for help by my fellow soldiers?” Gur-Rai chuckled. “Elena was in danger, Doc. It was I who saved her.”

“We need soldiers, not heroes.” Tygan stood and walked over to where Elena lay, her shoulder still bandaged tightly. “Hm. I might keep this on a bit longer. This wound has some tearing that’s making me nervous.”

“I understand, Doctor.” Elena nodded. “Is there any medicine I should be taking?”

“It looks as though we’ve cleaned it well enough. I don’t want to overuse our...very limited antibiotic supply.” He grabbed a tube of ointment out of the cabinet, as well as some bandages, and handed them to her. “This should be sufficient. Reapply this ointment and change the bandages at least once every 24 hours.”

With his bunkmates occupied by the doctor’s directions, Gur-Rai stood, stripping out of his hospital gown with little regard to anyone else in the room. He was wearing tighty-whities underneath, luckily, but it still earned him disgusted stares.

Tygan locked eyes with him, his expression more irritated than Gur-Rai had ever seen. “I will not return your clothes until you put the gown back on.”

Gur-Rai tied the gown around his waist.

Tygan sighed. “...Good enough I suppose.” He retrieved a cardboard box that looked as though it had been used many a time before and shoved it into the Chosen’s long arms. “Please, clothe yourself.”

Mox actually chuckled at that, and Elena smiled at him as he helped her to her feet. “Pratal…” She leaned over and said something that Gur-Rai couldn’t hear.

“I do not see why not.” Mox said loudly. “You are his second in command, Elena, not I. That is your call to make.”

Elena seemed to glare at Mox, but her gaze was not so much angry as it was nervous. As Tygan handed Elena her own box of clothes, she turned back to the Darkstrider. “Gur-Rai. Why don’t you report back to Volk with us.” She said it as if it were already fact.

Gur-Rai stopped, half-dressed, and peeked out through the neck-hole in his sweater. “...Beg your pardon?”

Elena looked away. “If you don’t want to, just say-”

“Oh I want to.” Gur-Rai insisted. “But I am confused, Elena. Didn’t you hate me bot but a day ago?”

“Was it not you who wanted me to give you a chance?” She smirked. “And last I remember, you have a couple of girlfriends in Reaper territory that miss you very much.”

“Oh, starlight.” He groaned, but it was mixed with a chuckle. “...Mox? You’re okay with this?”

“I believe it is a wonderful idea.” He said cheerily. “If the Reapers can accept me, they may surely accept you, Madron.”

Gur-Rai swallowed the beginnings of the lump in his throat. “...Okay then.” He smiled, and they could see the genuine happiness shining behind tears in his eyes.

.

.

When Dhar-Mon awoke again, it was 1:00 in the afternoon. Having not slept all night certainly messed up his circadian rhythm, but to be honest he was surprised he was able to sleep at all.

He looked over at the stuffed horse tucked under his arm. Glaucus, the blue and white pony, looked up at him with cartoon eyes that conveyed a depth he was honestly not prepared to see. He cuddled the stuffed animal closer to his chest. It was strangely warm, and smelled like marshmallows. When he closed his eyes, instead of the whispers of demons in the dark, he heard nothing but a strange, soft humming.

This clearly had to be some sort of magical artifact, one that Malinalli had enchanted with her healing aura to comfort him as he slept. He’d have to thank her better later.

There was a knock at his door, and as he muttered “come in,” the door slid open and Kon-Mai was already poking her head inside. 

“Are you ill, Brother?” She asked, barging her way inside with an expression of worry on her face. “It is quite unusual for you to sleep so late.”

“I feel…” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. To be honest, he still felt drowsy from sleep, but he felt significantly more rested than he had that morning. “I feel well, Sister.”

She sat on the end of his bed, about to speak, before Glaucus caught her eye. “What is that?”

He hesitated at first, that apprehension he’d had when asking her about sewing coming back. Was it weak for a man to sleep with stuffed animals? Would she judge him? No...she was his Sister.

He handed her the stuffed horse. “A gift from Malinalli.” He admitted. “I have had...such difficulty sleeping alone since leaving the Elders’ embrace. I fear the darkness. This...tiny toy seems to have helped.”

“You fear the darkness?” She looked down at the horse. “...It is so cute.”

“It is a stuffed animal.”

“Taxidermied?”

“No, it is a synthetic creation, made cartoonishly in the shape resembling a living thing.” He sat up fully, sitting criss-coss-applesauce. “It is meant to bring comfort.”

Kon-Mai met his eyes again. “Does it help you, Brother?”

“With it, I was able to sleep uninterrupted.” He said. “I believe it has helped me…”

She held it at arm's length, a smile gracing her blue lips. “...What an adorable creature…” She looked to the door. “Malinalli gave this to you?”

“Yes, she did.” He said.

“Hm.” She handed him Glaucus and stood again.

“Do you desire one?” He asked. “I could ask her for another.”

“No.” She shook her head and started toward the door. “I have a better idea, Dhar-Mon...do you still want to learn to sew?”

.

.

The night, for once, was peaceful, quiet. Elena had not felt this kind of grace since Tomko had died. It seemed that the Earth had let out a breath she’d been holding. She reached out and took hold of Mox’s hand, and he squeezed hers.

The Darkstrider was behind them, his pace slightly slower as they walked silently into the camp, set up in the remains of 77th Avenue, right outside The Vermeer: a tall, curved and now very dank apartment building. In the road, Reaper tents lined the cracked pavement. Silent black forms could be seen moving about, checking on roasted Chryssalids and Vipers that lay on spits over the fire. Many of them did not see the Darkstrider at first, but once they did they stopped, stared for a moment, then disappeared again. None came to confront him, but he could hear them whispering.

Elena looked back at him. “You understand, it will take much more than my presence to get them to trust you. But it will help.”

“I’d be more worried if they DID trust me.” He chuckled. “I wonder if they recognize me.”

“I did.” Was all Elena said, before holding her silence a moment. “...Really though, unless they have been on a mission with you recently, they only know you as the Hunter.”

“So only Lars and Creepy Cruzita. At least someone-”

“Dunkelmarcheur!” A familiar voice called out to them. Mox waved over Elena’s shoulder at the familiar pair of Reapers sitting by a small campfire, one of whom was holding up the disembodied skin on a Viper.

“Well, speak of the devil, and she shall appear.” Gur-Rai grinned nervously at the sight of Cruzita, approaching her with the slightest amount of hesitation. She and Lars met the three of them halfway, and Lars reached out and shook Elena’s hand delicately. “Your wound?”

“It’s only flesh.” Elena assured him. “Didn’t touch your artwork, though.”

Gur-Rai turned to Elena. “Artwork?”

Elena seemed to hesitate. This whole being friends thing was already challenging for her, even moreso when it was with the man who was practically her ex-boyfriend’s walking corpse. But, she took a breath, smiled and gestured to Lars. “He does tattoos.”

“In my home country I was an artist, nearly world renowned!” He raised his voice far louder than a Reaper ever should, and it earned the group a few looks. “But when the war came to Luxembourg and I had to flee to a more defensible position, I had to find other expressions for my creative talents. Show them, Elena. Yours was some of my finest work.”

Elena sighed, dropping her gun and taking off her coat. Underneath her vest, curled around her spine, Gur-Rai could see the outline of red scales. She pulled aside her shirt just enough to show them.

“A dragon.” She said. “I am Dragunova, after all.”

Gur-Rai raised a brow. “Well well well, I was thinking of getting some ink done as well, Lars. It seems fate has brought us together.”

“Don’t you have to talk to Volk?”

“That I do. Shame.” He sighed.

“Oh that’s fine. We’re going to be here for a minute.” Cruzita jabbed her finger toward the pile of Viper skins and entrails, some of which was simmering clean in a bucket of boiling water. “Come find us when you’re done and I’m sure Lars will make your skin the work of art we all know it is.” She scanned his blue skin again, her eyes glinting.

“Um, yes.” He took a step back. With her hood down, he could see clearly now that, instead of perfectly white, her hair had some black patches in it, like lowlights. Her cheeks were sunken and her nose was turned upward so much, it almost looked skeletal. It reminded him of himself and for a moment, he felt a deep sense of pity. He wondered if ADVENT had touched her, too.

He looked up to the black windows of the Vermeer. He could feel the eyes watching him. Volk was waiting for him in there.

“I’ll be out in a jiffy.” He said. “Something tells me this won’t take long.”

.

.

Kon-Mai’s sewing kit was uncharacteristically cute for someone like her. It was a small, white, silk bag with purple flowers embroidered on it, held closed by a pearl button. When she undid the clasp, all of the needles and thread were tucked away neatly and nicely. 

She plopped the supplies, and herself, onto Dhar-Mon’s bed, and they sat facing each other as Kon-Mai withdrew the supplies from their containers. The small pincushion and the thimble were the first to come out, then she laid some of the fabric from over her arm onto the bed in front of them. He recognized the patterns and cloths she had bought from the black market, as well as some other material: chunks of cotton?

She pulled out two markers, handed him one and a piece of fabric, and nodded. “Were you thinking of something specific?”

He shook his head. “I do not know what animals would be comforting to sleep alongside. A horse seems to already push the limits. And one would have trouble finding a companion in a lizard.”

“One never knows.” She mused. “Perhaps a lizard can be a worthy companion.”

Hm.” He grunted. “What are you making?”

“I think I shall make a hedgehog.” She took two large swaths of brown fabric and pressed them together, drawing the outline of what looked like a fat oval.

“A hedgehog is covered in painful spines.” Dhar-Mon said. “I do not see how that is soothing.”

“I like them.” She replied. “They are able to tuck themselves away at the first sign of danger, and camouflage themselves on the forest floor. A fine animal favored by evolution.”

Dhar-Mon harrumphed, but he saw her point. “...What about a koala?”

“Do not test me.” She growled.

“I wish you would speak of that day, if it was as traumatic as it seems to be.”

“It is not a day I want to relive.” She insisted. “Koalas are the spawn of demons, and I like hedgehogs more.”

He supposed that was fair. He stared down at his own piece of fabric: He already had a sleeping companion, but not content to just sit quietly and watch his sister work, he put the pen to the fabric.

“What animal would Gur-Rai like?”

.

.

Gur-Rai was still contemplating what tattoo to get as Elena pushed open the Vermeer’s great double doors. He could already tell that, in another life, this place had been extravagant. Now, the golden walls were crumbling and the chandeliers had fallen from the ceiling. The furniture seemed like it might have held out enough to be used again, but the rotten looking wound made him not want to test it. There were a few Reapers down here, sitting by the front desk, cleaning stocks of weapons.

“Alfred, where is Volk?” Mox asked. “We must report to him.”

One of the Reapers looked up in annoyance, and Gur-Rai wondered how good relations with the Skirmishers really were, even with Elena’s marriage to one. “He’s in the penthouse.” Alfred said. “As usual.”

“Thank you.” Mox nodded and led the way through the hall. Gur-Rai had to duck under some of the beams: this place was not built for a Sasquatch like him.

“I don’t suppose the elevator is working.” He asked, though he knew the answer

“You’re welcome to try it.” Elena shrugged. “But I think you might have better luck scaling the elevator shaft.”

“Gee, that actually sounds fun.” He smirked. “Maybe I’ll race you.”

“Maybe I’ll decline.” Elena rolled her eyes. “We’ll take the stairs, that’s enough climbing for me.”

The stairs were torture, especially with Gur-Rai being so tall that he routinely bumped his head on the floor above them whenever they came near to the door. Eventually, instead of following Elena and Mox, who were taking their sweet time like a couple of old timers, Gur-Rai crouched on all fours and bounded up the stairs like a cat, moving at twice the speed and leaving the other two in the dust. They watched him with a mix of indignation and wonder, Mox letting loose a chuckle.

“That man was never meant to be tamed.”

Elena nodded, completely silent at his comment.

The three met back up at the last door, when there were no more stairs to climb. Gur-Rai was leaning on the handle, ready to push open the door to the penthouse. “Ready?”

“I am ready.” Mox squeezed Elena’s hand.

“I am not, but I must be.” She smiled at her husband. “After you, Darkstrider.”

Gur-Rai opened the door, and the lights disappeared. 

Well, really, the lights were still on in the hall behind him. But the entirety of the penthouse apartment was swathed in darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he could see bits of shape and movement, but even the faint light coming in through the many windows did nothing to ease the shadow.

Then a single light came on, from a desk in front of an old, brick fireplace that was currently out. On the mantle were trophies that made the Hunter inside Gur-Rai drool with envy: snakeskins of all colors, some obviously dyed, but some where the craftsmanship was so good, he couldn’t tell, other than the fact that he’d never seen a purple Viper before. An Archon torso hung on the wall, and an entire taxidermied Chryssalid sat in the corner. 

Other than that, though, there were animals. Real, lifelike animals that looked as though they could jump from their mountings at any moment. There was a stag, a whole moose, a gnu (Gur-Rai really wanted to know how Volk got that one), several smaller animals, and even a wolf, frozen in a hunting position as though it was plucked out of time.

Then the big man himself stood up, whiskey in hand and smelling of alcohol. His dark eyes were trained right on Gur-Rai. “Elena.” He hissed. “God fucking dammit, Elena.”

“Volk, please don’t.” Elena sighed. “The Darkstrider was on the mission with us. He needs to be part of the report.”

“Why?” Volk walked around his desk and took a swig of his drink.

“Because it was he who saved our lives.” Elena insisted. “It was he who bested the Viper that came to kill me. I would be dead now, if it wasn’t for him.”

Volk looked over at Mox, who straightened up but avoided his gaze, and thankfully Volk was sober enough to avoid saying anything stupid. “Fine.” He put his drink down and leaned back against his desk. “What happened out there?”

“There were a lot more troops in the area than we bargained on.” Gur-Rai said. “At least two pods worth, mostly Vipers but there was a Sectoid in there somewhere.”

“I believe the Sectoid escaped.” Mox cut in.

“So that’s where all the fucking Viper meat came from.” Volk pinched the bridge of his nose. “If the Sectoid escaped, he’s gonna go running off to tell the Elders. And we just got settled here, too.”

“We have relocated before.” Elena assured him. “If we take a caravan up to Alaska and possibly buy passage across, Siberia is uninhabited.”

“We think. We have no idea what’s up in Siberia.” Volk said. “A merchant vessel isn’t big enough to carry the entire caravan. We’d have to split up, and I don’t want to do that.”

“Let’s not be hasty.” Gur-Rai said. “You may not have to leave. They didn’t indicate that they knew you were here, it looked like a regular old patrol.”

“Two pods worth of enemies?” Volk scoffed. “They knew. They were just looking for where we were specifically.”

“Maybe we could set up in Alaska.” Elena added. “I am certain the old base is still there.”

“It’s possible, but that’s just it.” He replied. “The base is old. And it’s small: our numbers have grown since then.”

“Hang on.” Gur-Rai leaned on one knee. “I say you and your people don’t have to go anywhere. This is your home. Protect it.”

“That’s fucking easy for you to say.” Volk spat. “You don’t have a home.”

“Volk.” Elena said in a warning tone.

“Don’t start with me.” He pointed at her. “I was okay when you brought home the Skirmisher. I even grew to like him, somehow. But no way in Hell is a CHOSEN telling me what I should and shouldn’t do with my people.”

“Well then, I suppose you just pick up all of your fancy trophies, throw them in a cart and drive across the ocean to the next place ADVENT will find you.” Gur-Rai shrugged. “You can’t run forever, Volk.”

Volk glared at him with cold, yellow eyes. “Elena, Pratal, step outside.”

“Sir-” Mox began.

“Out. Now. I need to speak to the alien alone.” He growled.

Elena looked to Gur-Rai, one eyebrow raised. He knew how much she cared for Volk, but he also knew that if he asked for help, she would step in and deck the old man.

He shook his head, gesturing towards the door. He would be fine. The old man didn’t scare him. That much.

The door closed, and the two were left in almost complete shadow again. Gur-Rai couldn’t help but feel like a child again, and Volk was the adult scolding him for being bad.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

Gur-Rai lifted his hands. “I can explain, Mr. Volikov, Sir. You see, I used to be-”

“I know.” He growled. “I know who you were. Who you’re not. Don’t come in here wearing Genji’s face.”

Gur-Rai furrowed his brow. “...Genji? His name was-”

“You thought his name was just Tomko?” Volk spat. “That’s what he liked to be called. That was the name his father left him. But HIS name was Genjiro.”

Genjiro. It did strike a deep, familiar cord with him. It also complicated things. “...I wasn’t a local, was I?”

“He certainly wasn't all white, that’s for sure.” Volk looked very sad for a moment. “That boy was the first taste of hope I had after the war. And you stole him from me.”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Gur-Rai hissed. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at the Elders who spirited me away.”

“Oh sure, and who you so eagerly served for 10 years!” Volk slammed his hand on the desk. “You came back to kill us!”

“I had no choice! You don’t refuse the Elders unless you have a death wish!”

“Then maybe you should have, at least they’d have killed you for good! Let Genjiro rest in peace rather than suit up his corpse!”

The words stung. Gur-Rai crossed his arms. “So now I’m the villain just for being born?”

“You…” Volk hissed. “...You know what? Yes. You should have died out there, with a bullet in the neck. And Genjiro Tomko should be resting in the ground.”

Gur-Rai swallowed the lump in his throat. “...The Commander has a different opinion.”

“The ‘Commander’ is a psychotic bitch who does what she wants.” Volk growled. “Sure, she’s the best hope we have for salvation. That doesn’t mean I have to like her, or her decisions.” He pointed to the door. “She may have power up in that Avenger, but I’m the boss down here.”

“Oh?” The ground had never looked so interesting before. “So, ‘Boss,’ what are my orders?”

“Get out.” Volk hissed. “And If I ever see your face in Reaper territory again, I’ll shoot you my goddamn self.”

“Oh don’t you worry, Sir.” Gur-Rai bared his teeth. They were glinting, even in the low light. “I was just leaving.”

.

.

When he emerged, he was surprised to see Elena and Mox were still waiting outside. Mox looked up, hopefully. “How was your talk?”

The look on Gur-Rai’s face must have given it away, because Elena sighed. “Oh, that man. If you want, I can-”

“No. It’s fine.” Gur-Rai said. “He has officially banished me from Reaper territory though.”

“He did, did he?” Elena crossed her arms. “Well I officially unbanish you.”

“Can she do that?” Gur-Rai turned to Mox.

“I do not question it.”

“Good man.” He chuckled.

Elena stepped forward. “Cruzita and Lars are undoubtedly still waiting for us.” She said. “Shall we go tell them what tattoo you want?”

In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten all about the tattoo. “I’d love to, if I did indeed know what I wanted.” He shrugged.

“Some sort of animal would fit you well.” Mox said. “I myself have considered getting a wolf, in honor of the Reapers.”

Gur-Rai saw Elena smile at that, and he crossed his arms. “Well, what’s a good hunting animal? I’d get a wolf as well, but I don’t think the pack leader would appreciate that.” He followed them as they began to descend that massive staircase, although it was a bit easier going down.”

“A beagle.” Elena chuckled.

“No.”

“They were used by human hunters for decades.” She said. “They were made to chase small animals like badgers and foxes.”

“Beagles may be cute, but my sister is more of a dog person than me.” He said. “Something cool. Elena, you have a dragon on your back. That is amazing.”

“Because my surname is Dragunova.” She said. “What does ‘Madron’ mean?”

“Well if you must know, it symbolizes status.” Gur-Rai straightened up. “You may call me Lord Gur-Rai.”

“Oh, my apologies, your lordship.” Elena rolled her eyes. “Well let’s see. You threw off the yoke of the Elders: what about a wild horse?”

He liked the idea, but… “Not quite.” He held a finger to his chin. “But that is a good concept. Something that symbolizes freedom?”

“A bird!” Mox cried. “A big, menacing looking bird. Perhaps a hawk or-”

“An eagle!” Gur-Rai snapped his fingers. “That’s it! Mox, you bloody genius!”

Mox seemed to beam at the compliment.

.

.

Dhar-Mon stopped his own project to watch his sister work. Her fingers were quick and nimble, tying each stitch as fast as a sewing machine could. She was deeply focused, her eyes glued on the task in front of her, her breathing deep and controlled. He wondered if she had always had this talent, or if this was yet another blessing from the Elders.

She stopped, putting the thread down and shaking out the fabric. “Camazotz gave me my swift hand.” She said, answering his thoughts. “But I do not think this is how he intended I use it.”

“Where did you learn this skill?” He asked.

“I believe I mentioned before…” She shook her head. “Perhaps I didn’t. It was a year after my birth. Do you remember the Great Battle of the Rhine Institute?”

“We were all present.” He said. “I remember. From the lowest grunt to us, the Chosen. It was our first time working in tandem with one another, and our first encounter with the entity that remained of XCOM.”

She seemed to ponder those words. “And do you remember the explosion?”

That was when he cringed. The Rhine Institute, one of ADVENT’s weapon production centers, was useful for it’s stockpiles of gunpowder, oil and just about anything flammable. Dhar-Mon and his brother had been able to stay clear of the damage, being able to make ranged attacks, but Kon-Mai had run straight in to stop the intruders herself.

“We did not know they had set up charges.” He murmured. “For a moment, I thought you had been lost in that blast, so intense it was.”

“I nearly was.” She admitted, and she took another piece of cloth and began slicing it into thin strips. “But my armor was shredded in the discharge. Though we won the day, my equipment was left unusable. Kompira helped me reforge my sword, but he did not know sewing, and he could not fully mend my armor.”

“And the Priests did not?”

“They could…but perhaps I was indignant. Something had been stolen from me, and I could do nothing but wait for it to be repaired? No, I wanted to take matters into my own hands: that was when I asked the priests to teach me.” She sighed. “...I wish I knew their names.”

He pondered that. “Did they have names?”

“I heard them whispered on their breaths in my stronghold.” She said. “It was not allowed, only those of the highest rank-”

“Only those who had proven themselves truly loyal could wear the honor of a name.” Dhar-Mon said. “And yet, I remember a woman at my stronghold whose name was Oinone.”

“I never bothered to learn the names of the priests that served me.” Kon-Mai said again, and it became clear that she was lamenting. “They were so far removed from me, and I saw myself as...above them.” She stopped cutting the cloth into strips and began to sew each and every rectangle of fabric onto the hedgehog’s back.

“...The circumstances were differing.” Dhar-Mon tried to assure her. “Had the Elders not been so cruel, perhaps you would have had the courage to reach out to them.”

“It was not for lack of courage.” She insisted. “It was...I genuinely felt as though there was no point. They would die. I would live. And now…”

“...And now?”

She shook her head. “...What name should I give my animal?” She asked. “Yours is Glaucus, apparently.”

“Malinalli gave him his name.”

“It is a male?” She chuckled.

“Well…” He blushed. “...I merely guessed.”

She chuckled and held up her finished hedgehog. “Mine shall be Nergui.”

“Nergui?”

“...It means ‘no-name’ in...Mongolian.” She seemed to have to think about that.

“You speak Mongolian?”

“You forget, Brother, my stronghold was in East Asia.” She still looked slightly bothered by it though.

“That is clever, then.” He admitted. “I shall let Gur-Rai name his.”

“What did you make him?”

Dhar-Mon held up the stuffed toy, it’s arms wide and outstretched. “It is an eagle!”

.

.

“I’ll do it anywhere you want.” Lars said. “But I do not like arms or legs.”

Gur-Rai raised a brow as he sat down beside the fire, beginning to peel off his armor. “Why not?”

“Because they have a tendency to go flying~” Cruzita giggled. She had emptied one of the venom sacs into a pot and had brought the liquid to a boil, and was now cleaning a syringe.

“It is true, in our line of work.” Lars added. “Losing a leg, losing an arm; it is not so uncommon, and my precious art will be lost with them.”

Gur-Rai smiled. “I was thinking something right on the back of my neck.”

“Perhaps where the neck meets the shoulders? I can do that!” ” He pulled out a menacing looking tattoo gun and some various ink colors: black, red, green, a bit of white, not much else.

“Need new art supplies, there?”

“Yes, actually.” Lars sighed. “But where oh where does the paint go? Oh that is right. To the absolute HACKS at ADVENT!” He spat. “They call that propaganda ‘art’! Please! I could fill my anus with paint and shit better art than that!”

Cruzita cackled like a hyena at that, and Gur-Rai had to admit he snickered a little. Elena rolled her eyes, obviously disgusted.

“Op jiddfer fall.” Lars said as he loaded up the ink in his gun. “How do you want?”

“An eagle.” Gur-Rai said.

“Ah, ah, that I can do.” Lars picked up a stick and began drawing in the cracked dirt of the ancient road. “Wings over your shoulders, spread out like this. Head against your neck, right on the nuque.” He drew out a design that reminded Gur-Rai a bit of a totem. “And the eyes, red. Like your own eyes.”

“I think mine are purple.”

“On your blue skin, they will look purple.” He shrugged. “I have it! Now, Cruz, the numbing juice?”

As Cruzita began to suck the boiled venom into a syringe, Gur-Rai stopped her. “I appreciate the offer, but I can handle the pain.”

“That’s what they all say.” She raised a brow. “Are you sure, Darkstrider?”

“Positive.” He nodded. “Believe me. The Elders have done worse. I’m used to it by now.”

The tattoo gun buzzed to life, and Gur-Rai found himself clenching his muscles, bracing for impact. The needle touched his skin, and Lars began the first line. 

True, it was nothing compared to the pain the Elders had inflicted on him in that same spot, but the sharp pin ran over old nerves he’d thought were dead, and brought them back to life. He gripped his pant legs so tight he almost tore them, his sharp teeth biting down on his lip, drawing blood.

He felt a hand take his, then another. “I’m here.” Elena said. He could feel her, on his left, Mox on his right. He squeezed their hands, afraid that his nails would injure them, but they didn’t even flinch.

He opened his eyes once, and they drifted up towards the window of the penthouse, where he could see the faint outline of Volk watching him.

Go ahead, Old Man, he thought. Shoot me.

Volk held his gaze for a moment. Then he turned away.

.

.

The tattoo took a long ass time, but as Lars said, that was because he took pride in his work. At the end, when the needle rose from Gur-Rai’s skin for the final time, and Cruzita handed him a mirror to check how it looked, he had to agree the pain was worth it.

Lars had added a few extra red feathers falling from the bird, as well as bits of broken chain. The eyes, like he said, looked more purple than red, and the outstretched wings extended across Gur-Rai’s upper back and almost over his shoulder.

Elena grabbed a medkit and took out some petroleum jelly. “You mustn’t forget the aftercare.”

“She is right.” Lars said as he applied the jelly, and then a sticky gauze bandage. “Remove this after 24 hours.”

“That’s all? Don’t worry.” The Darkstrider grinned. “I heal quickly.”

“No you do not.” Mox chuckled. “I know.”

Elena’s comm beeped, and she sighed. “Firebrand wants us to return.”

“Then this is farewell.” Mox said, shaking Lars’s hand.

“I don’t like goodbyes.” Cruzita stood and hugged Elena, towering over the woman. “This is a ‘see you soon!’” She leaned over and hugged Gur-Rai as well. “And I still think that blue is beautiful.”

“I’m flattered, Miss de Vries.” He chuckled. “But please don’t turn me into a coat.”

“Oh don’t worry, human skin doesn’t keep well.” She made a face, then laughed. “Until next time, Darkstrider!”

They waved back to the two as Gur-Rai put his sweater and armor back on, and the trio set off to the extraction point. His back still hurt quite a bit, but the knowledge that the tattoo was there, that it was something the Elders could no longer take from him, that made him happy.

“Elena…” He leaned over. “Did Genjiro have any tattoos?”

Her brow furrowed. “Genji…? Oh.” She blinked. “Hm. We never called him by his first name.”

“Why is that?” He asked. “Not that I disagree with using a callsign. But Genjiro is so much more…” He waved his hands. “...fantastic.”

Elena opened her mouth and closed it again, pondering her next words. “...Truly? He didn’t like using Japanese at all.” She finally replied. “He claimed to have many bad memories from that place. He had hoped America would be a fresh start: he came here looking for his father.”

“Yes...‘Tomko’ was his father’s name.” Gur-Rai bobbed his head.

“Mm. Truth be told I didn’t like the name at first.” She admitted. “It always sounded too soft. Too...cute.”

“But I am cute, Elena~”

“You are what would happen if a giraffe partook in an extramarital affair with a shark.”

Mox barked out a laugh at that, and Elena smiled proudly at the joke she made.

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” Gur-Rai chuckled. “I like this new you, Elena. Much more open.”

“Open to insulting you? I agree, it’s cathartic.”

“The hazing makes the friendship stronger.” He said. “And I am happy that, if not now, one day I might be able to call you my friend.”

“Yes.” She took a breath. “I...don’t regret it as much anymore. Losing Tomko, that is. I still do but…” She laid back and stared at the ceiling. “...Darkstrider, do you truly think Tomko and I would never have worked?”

“Nah. Too much fire.” He chuckled. “I remember you kicking the shit out of me for forgetting your birthday one year.”

“You deserved it.”

“That I did. But you wouldn’t do that to Pratal, now would you?”

“No, but he wouldn’t forget.” She looked ahead of them, where Mox had taken the leading position and was scouting for enemies. 

“...There was more to it, wasn’t there?” He asked quietly.

“...Darkstrider.” Elena said. “If you love someone...never go to bed angry.”

He blinked rapidly, trying to decipher the message. “...What does that-”

“A few days before…” She swallowed. “Before the battle, Tomko and I had a catastrophic fight, it almost ended us right there and then.” She looked up at him. “We...put it behind us, but so much was still left unsaid. So much tension. Tension I never let die.”

“What was the fight about?” He asked. He wanted to make a joke, but now was not the time.

“It was about...how do I say it? It was about our future.” She said. “Tomko did not want children, he made that very clear, and I thought I would agree but...I realized this after a while: I want to be a mother. I want to have children, have a family, have little ones of my own to raise.”

Ah. For some reason, that stung. Perhaps Tomko was still balking at it. “...Some things never change.” He said. “I’m not keen on fatherhood.”

She nodded. “When you said it would have ended between me and Tomko...I knew you were right.” She hugged herself. “Blyat’, did I not just say I no longer felt this guilt?”

He chuckled. “Elena, I may not be Tomko, but if you’ll allow me to speak for him…” He put a hand over his heart. “He holds no ill feelings towards you for wanting something so dearly. And he is...I am happy you found someone to share that dream with.” He hesitated. “Mox wants kids too, I assume?”

“He does.” She chuckled. “He said at least two. I said no more than three.”

“Your children will be a force of nature.” He blew a whistle. “Lookout world, the Dragons are hatching!”

“Oi, zatknis'.” Elena smirked and ran to catch up with her husband.

.

.

“Brother!” Gur-Rai called out as he knocked on the door to Dhar-Mon’s room, snickering to himself. Oh, his brother would be so pissed, probably rant for a bit about how “your body is a temple and tattoos are graffiti.” It was going to be amazing.

Instead of Dhar-Mon, though, Kon-Mai opened the door, covered in bits of cotton and with what looked like a hedgehog pillow pet in her arms. “You are home late, where were you?” 

“Out.” He kissed his sister’s cheek as he walked in, and she grabbed him by the arm and pointedly put one on the top of his head, under which he squirmed. 

“Flaunting your height, I see.”

“It is not my fault you are short.” She chuckled and sat back on the bed. Dhar-Mon was still in his pajamas, holding a stuffed horse and...something that kind of looked like a pancake.

“What’s that you’ve got, Brother?” Gur-Rai asked.

Dhar-Mon stood up, towering over the middle Chosen, and held it out proudly. “This is a gift for you, Brother, to protect you from the darkness while you sleep.”

Gur-Rai blinked, gently taking the...what was it? It looked like a bird, with really big wings and a fat, white head. “...Is this an eagle?”

“It is!” Dhar-Mon sounded relieved. “I was worried you would not recognize it!”

“I…” He laughed at the irony. “I love it, Dhar-Mon.” He looked up, staring right into his brother’s eyes. “It matches my tattoo~”

“Your what?” Kon-Mai snapped.

Gur-Rai tossed the stuffed eagle onto the bed and gently pulled off his sweater, then his undershirt, turning to reveal to them the eagle tattoo, wings spread wide across his neck.

His siblings stared at it for a good ten seconds, analyzing the carving drilled into their brother’s back.

“...I adore it.” Dhar-Mon proclaimed. “This art is reminiscent of the ancient human scribes! And the colors blend with your skin so well, Brother.”

Okay, that he hadn’t expected. Still, Gur-Rai felt a simmer of warmth as Dhar-Mon praised the artwork on his back. “I can’t take credit for this, Brother. The Reaper, Lars, did most of it.”

“Then Lars is a very talented artist.” Kon-Mai spoke up, her voice slightly softer. “Did it hurt?”

“Like a bitch.” He flinched as he put his undershirt back on. “And I have to keep it bandaged for a day.”

Kon-Mai nodded. “Will it need changing?”

“After the first day? No, I don’t think so. I have to wash it gently though.”

“If you so wish, I can assist you with that.” She sat back down, a slight smile on her face. “You seem so very happy, Brother.”

“Well, yes, I am.” He picked up the stuffed bird Dhar-Mon had lovingly made for him, and cuddled it close. “...You know, the eagle is the symbol of freedom.”

“So is a horse!” Dhar-Mon held up Glaucus. “And now we are free from the Elders. This is symbolic of our new lives.”

“Of course, Konnie had to go fuck it up. What’s a hedgehog supposed to be a symbol of?” Gur-Rai snickered.

Kon-Mai scowled. “A symbol of the pain I shall inflict upon you if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“Well you’re very prickly, Sister. It certainly suits you.” Gur-Rai laughed as she tossed the pillow at him.

.

.

.

.

.

Summary: This chapter begins with a snapshot of the Reaper’s daily lives outside of combat: Cruzita and Lars sit around the fire, discussing their former lives, and what will become of them when the war is over. Cruzita holds a deep hatred for aliens, and claims the war will not be over until all “these monsters” are dead. Back on the ship, Dhar-Mon is having trouble sleeping due to his fear of the dark, and Malinalli gives him a stuffed horse, Glaucus, to sooth his anxiety. Later, after he sleeps until 1:00 pm, Kon-Mai comes to check on her brother, and decides to teach him to sew by making stuffed animals together. We also see Gur-Rai and Elena’s wounds mostly healed, and as thanks for saving her, Elena invites Gur-Rai into Reaper territory to talk to Volk. They arrive and speak briefly with Lars and Cruzita, and find out Lars does tattoos, and that Elena has a tattoo of a dragon along her spine. Climbing the stairs of the Vermeer, the apartment building the Reapers are hiding in, Elena, Gur-Rai and Mox meet with Volk, who is not keen on having Gur-Rai there. After sending Elena and Mox outside, Volk reveals Tomko (the Reaper Gur-Rai was before he was taken) was actually named Genjiro, and Tomko was his surname. Following Volk kicking him out, Gur-Rai is consoled by Elena and Mox, who return with him to Lars, where he gets an eagle tattooed on his back. Once the tattoo is finished and the three leave to meet Firebrand, Gur-Rai and Elena talk more about the past: Elena reveals that she and Tomko had nearly broken up a few nights before he was taken, over the fact that Elena wanted children and Tomko did not. Returning home, Dhar-Mon presents Gur-Rai with a stuffed eagle he made, and the two poke fun at Kon-Mai’s hedgehog toy that she sewed herself.

(Hullo my dudes. I hope you’re all staying safe out there. This one was a cathartic one, even if there’s still a lot left unanswered and unspoken. But I think a big message of any XCOM fic you read, especially on this side of the river, is human or alien, anyone can change, and anyone can be kind. Just something to hold onto.)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

[malereader-inserts]

Devil in Disguise

Fandom: BBC Sherlock  Pairing: Sherlock Holmes & Brother!Holmes Summary: Truly you were the biggest threat of all time. Word Count: 2368 Warning: Psycho!Reader, graphic description of murder? blood

There was a sickening look behind the emotionless eyes.

They thought they had seen everything from their sister. The brothers and loving parents, yet they had a storm coming that they couldn’t get out of. A danger that was right under the nose.

The Holmes was truly a family of dysfunction.

Iceman, sociopath, psychopath, it felt almost fitting of a sibling of three. They always thought the youngest boy, the youngest child came out sane. Yet, there was no nickname for you, whilst they feared your sister and Moriarty. You felt deep down in you that you should name yourself the devil in disguise.

“What do you mean you’ve been hiding this brilliant case from me!?”

Sherlock’s voice of glee was louder than the thunders of heaven, wanting to skip around his apartment flat as Lestrade and John stared at him blankly with worried eyes.

“So, why did you hide this case?” John asked, much quieter as he looks at the case file, “Seems like this is five years’ worth of crime linking into each other.”

“We could never tell if they were apart or together, the attacks, the murder, the crimes are so perfectly unguarded. There’s no pattern, always unexpected.” Lestrade explains, “We were going to give it to Sherlock but he had other business such as getting over his addiction and his sister.”

“Of course,” John murmured, rolling his eyes about Sherlock’s addiction, “Have you found out whether it’s a one person crime or...?”

“I’d like to believe that it’s a group, but if not, this person is truly another level.”

The door swung open, the two men looked over to see another Holmes clad in red, tired eyes as the younger lad yawned. John sends you an inviting smile which you returned.

“Heard Sherlock dancing from upstairs, what’s gotten my brother in that mood?” You asked, shuffling and falling back in Sherlock’s armchair, “Another case I presume?”

“Hmh,” John answers as Lestrade gives you the folder, allowing you to flicker through.

Pictures of your murder victims, injuries to countless strays and various stolen items. Your eyes looked disgusted, you were impressed with yourself because if you had managed to disgust yourself with your own crime then you must be doing something right.

“So, what is he doing dancing around if he has a criminal to catch?” You questioned, putting the folder in the detective’s hand.

“George, John!” Sherlock calls, returning to the room as he dramatically swings his coat onto himself, “We have to get to Scotland Yard, immediately. Oh, hello brother mine.”

“Sherlock,” you nodded your greeting as you watched Sherlock bounced down the stairs.

“You’d think he’ll call me by the right name after saying it right?” Lestrade questioned, rolling his eyes as he follows suit.

John looks at you, “Rosie is still asleep, can you look after her? I’m sure Molly wouldn’t mind taking care of her-”

“John, it’s okay, Rosie can spend time with her Uncle (Y/n)!” You beamed, standing up as John pats you on the shoulder with a grateful smile.

“Just pass her to Mrs Hudson or Molly if she becomes too much.”

John runs along, grabbing his jacket and scarf as he rushes down the stairs. You softly hummed to yourself as you move down the corridor to Rosie’s room, the little 2-year-old had just woken and smiles upon seeing your face.

You lifted her up into your arms, a menacing smile that could be easily mistaken for a fond loving smile, “Morning Rosie, up for a murder?”

“Why am I getting involved?”

Mycroft leans on his umbrella as he stares at his brother distastefully, he prefers to stay out of crime work - too tiresome for him especially the rodeo with Eurus. 

“How come you haven’t seen any of these crimes happening?” John asked, “Some of these were done in broad daylight, like, Michael Carter: murdered, knife to the neck left in the middle of Tesco’s - no one could miss a murder yet everyone did.”

“They must have access to the cameras, I have no footage of any of these crimes-”

“There are thousands of cameras around London, how can this possibly slip by? For five years?”

“Whoever did this must have some followers, he couldn’t do this by themselves.” Sherlock muttered, “You have your men checked monthly?”

“Always,” Mycroft bit at his brother, offended that his workforce was possibly accused of being corrupted, “All have passed.”

“No,” Sherlock looks at his brother, “Trickery is no one’s friend, only a slave to a master who controls all.”

Sherlock and John return back to the apartment, exhausted from running to each scene, Sherlock trying to deduce each crime. There they were invited with the scene of the youngest Holmes asleep on the sofa with little Rosie awake on his chest staring at the animated show.

“Oh hello, my princess!” John cooed as he gently lifts his daughter, minding not to disturb you from your sleep, “I hope you hadn’t cause hell for your uncle (Y/n).”

Sherlock chuckled, “(Y/n) looks exhausted, more so than us.”

He cast his eyes down to you, watching you shift to face the tv, a small snore escaped you deep in slumber. There was no doubt that Sherlock could pin any crimes on you.

The door suddenly opens, Mycroft entering without an invitation with Mrs Hudson rushing behind. Complaining about Mycroft’s lack of manners the occupants of the flat hushed the newcomers for your benefit. John left to put Rosie for a nap, Mrs Hudson leaving scowling for the boys being unmannered.

“What is it Mycroft?” Sherlock asked, jumping onto his armchair, “I need to think.”

“What if the person behind these crimes was working with Moriarty?” Mycroft questioned, “Moriarty was able to control cameras almost all over London, it wouldn’t be a surprise that they, whoever did this, have the same people.”

Sherlock looked at his brother, “Moriarty could be working under this person, he wouldn’t kill himself unless instructed to-”

Mycroft and Sherlock both looked over to you, sitting up confused and dazed out of your slumber. Both smiling at how innocent you looked. A small child, almost, you thought bitterly to yourself how they argue how intelligent they were but they were half-witted like the rest of the population.

“What’s up?”

“Stuck on a case.”

“Already?” You hummed, leaning back, eyebrow raised, “So early in the investigation?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s early, brother, it’s been five years.” Mycroft tutted, “It’s Scotland Yard’s fault for not coming to Sherlock any sooner.”

“A cocky bastard with a knack of getting away?” You questioned, almost too comfortable in your own arrogance. Deducing how your brothers didn’t even batter a blink of doubt.

“Whoever it is, is a danger. A monster, more so than Eurus,” Mycroft admitted, “She was insane, but this person, much more calculated, more precise, more...”

“Devilish.” Sherlock finished, “And whoever did this wants to establish fear.”

Days and weeks passed, little information kept the group going. Rosie was constantly passed around between you, Molly or Mrs Hudson. Mycroft and Sherlock were often seen together, both were determined to catch you, you watched on the sideline with glee.

You were having fun, and you’d thought after five years of doing the same thing would get boring but it fills you up with joy and excitement. How they were so close on catching you, yet they never did.

You were the innocent little Holmes that they protected.

Mycroft tried to keep you out of the dark with things but most often not found himself trusting you more than Sherlock. He couldn’t help but worry for you, at the end of the day, you were the youngest Holmes meaning you were far more valued to your parents than Mycroft or Sherlock.

Sherlock was a caring brother, if not loving, you were quick with your intelligence and always challenged him with his cases. You weren’t mocking or judging, he found you to be more accepting.

Yet, they just didn’t know you at all. Did they?

Slamming the door open of your secret hideout, you smirked to yourself. Hands coated with a suspicious red dry thickness that also painted your white shirt. A gun tucked in your black jeans around your back under the shirt. Picking up a cooing two-year-old as you hear guns cock up behind you.

“Pity isn’t it?” You hear your brother, Sherlock, spoke, “You built this for years and yet here we come.”

You tickled Rosie’s tummy, letting out a little squeal, you grin to yourself. Softly bouncing the child in arms, so affectionate to this sweet fledgling whilst being in a bloody room.

Five minutes ago, you had a butcher knife and admiring your work. Two hours before you had five victims, begging, pleading for their lives. The walls covered in horrifying blood splatter, some could probably pick out some loose organ bits off the floor.

“Pity?” You hummed, slowly turning around as you see your brothers, John and Lestrade eyes widen, “I have everything beneath me, brother mine, that’s it.”

“(Y/n)?” Mycroft whispered, clutching an unwanted gun in hand.

You grinned further, “It’s amusing really,” You watched how guns slowly lower down, “how easily fooled you guys are, James Moriarty admired me - god he fawned over me, it was nice to have a fan, loyal too. Killed himself.”

Rosie giggled, John tensed.

“Mary worked for me too, you know that John?” Your eyes flickered up to him, “She was going to out me, but it’s always fun to watch a bullet put between her eyes.”

“You-”

“Ah!” You warned, whipping out the gun from behind. Sherlock held his hand up, not wanting a gun to aggravate you, you aimed at John who held still, “You know what’s a pity though?”

The aim was directed entirely at the innocent child oblivious to the showdown. John’s heart almost stopped.

“Point your gun at me, if it helps you relax.” You mused out, looking down at Rosie again, who was trying to grab your bloody collar, “It’s great to have power, really it is, I can kill anyone in this building but you can't shoot back afraid of hitting this child.”

“You’re sick,” Sherlock spat.

“Sick?” You shake your head, your voice was low and you spoke slow with venom poisoning each word, “I’m not sick brother mine, that sounds like there’s a cure for an illness. I’m not ill, mad perhaps, twisted. Absolutely. Don’t be fooled, I am the devil in disguise.”

“(Y/n).” Mycroft called for your attention, your emotionless eyes flicker to him, “If you stop this madness, repercussions would be less severe.”

“We’re family, we can protect you.” Sherlock motioned.

“This family makes me want to cause genocide,” You grumbled, “Storytime!”

Your laughter causes a shiver to travel each down to their spine, you tighten your grip on the gun, John wanted to take you down, he had lost his wife to you, he wasn’t going to lose his daughter to you either.

“I killed a few dozens, want to know how I killed them?” You waved the hand with the gun about before directing the aim back at the child, “Some I gouged their eyes out, if they were annoying I would cut their tongue out. I have a collection, did you know? Eyes, teeth, tongues, the lot of them.

Most of them are screamers, that didn’t bother me, it’s like music to my ears. I liked the panicked eyes, especially when they see fire or my personal favourite tearing the skin. That’s always fun!”

They could see murder in your eyes, waving your gun about as if it was some toy whilst Rosie giggled upon seeing her Uncle laugh and grin.

“You’d know what would be fun?”

“What? What could possibly fuel you more?” Sherlock questioned, his gun aiming you alongside with Mycroft’s gun at you.

You stare down your brothers. Noticing how they quiver, ashamed if they were going to shoot you, scared they needed to kill you.

“Right now, there are four guns aimed at you four,” You announced, “You were right Sherlock, I heard you theorising that I had people working for me, and yes I do, but I like to get my hands dirty. You see they could murder you right here and I’d walk freely.

I can almost see the news, ‘The great detective Sherlock Holmes and companion John Watson murdered at the scene of the crime besides head detective Greg Lestrade and the Queen trusted government worker Mycroft Holmes: here are some words from the brother and friend - (Y/n) Holmes.’

Then I would say some very convincing heartfelt words about your murder, asking for justice and then living my life free whilst raising little Rosie up and telling tales of how her father died to try to take down the greatest villain of all time or should I convince her that I am her father now?”

“You son of a bitch.”

“My mother is a right all bitch, right brothers?”

“Don’t talk about mother like that.” Mycroft hissed, you chuckled, unphased.

“Hit a nerve?”

“Don’t make us shoot you, (Y/n),” Sherlock diverted your attention, sensing how unstable Mycroft was becoming by every passing minute, “Please.”

The please was soft, a beg as you soften your shoulders. Your eyes turned like a realisation before rolling your eyes.

“You almost got me fooled, Sherlock, almost did something I would have regretted,” You weren’t budging, “How about this Sherlock since you lead everything. You pick one. Me, John or Rosie. Who will die today?”

“Sherlock, please not my child,” John begged.

“Sherlock, we promised to keep (Y/n) protected,” Mycroft announced.

“Why not myself?” Sherlock compromised.

“Death offers peace more than you deserve, brother mine,” You answered, seething almost, “I intend for you to suffer.”

Sherlock stares at you, you were manic with a genius brain knowing his weak points. The child, his best friend and the brother that accepted him. No matter how insane you were, how ill you became and how devilish your smile turned he couldn’t kill you. 

He couldn’t kill his baby brother.

“Tick tock, Sherlock, time is ticking or all four of you get it.”

[skrrt-skrrt-cp]

how to know a pasta enjoys your company/likes you (platonic or crush works!)?

I’ll do crush, just for the fluff since people really like to see these killers as lovable sometimes! I don’t blame ‘em tbh

(Also holy hhhhhecc I went to a different app and tumblr decided to get rid of my writing when I had three pastas done smh)

——————

Slenderman- slendy would totally be more open to you than the other pastas. He’d share his issues, and encourage you to share your own with him. He’d most definitely enjoy your company around the woods, or mansion, and would make sure you’re always comfortable in his presence.

Zalgo- this is a Yikes. He would try his best not to get so angry at you, and would give you small little pet names such as ‘princess’ or ‘darling’. Zalgo would also change his physical appearance in front of you, because he would honestly get a bit self conscious being around you in his normal demon form, yet, he might slowly learn that your accepting of his appearance no matter what and would actually get mad at you for being so friendly towards him.

Jeff- he wouldn’t be as harsh and rude to you..maybe. He might tone it down a bit, Jeff’s just a lovable asshole. He’d use to vent and strongly encourge you to wear his hoodie, even if you aren’t cold (Jesus Christ man), mainly because he’d like how it looks on you. Jeff would also go out of his way to threaten and/or hurt anyone who messes with you.

Jane- Jane would feel more comfortable around you and show you her true appearance without her mask or black wig, as she trusts you’ll still be kind and supportive. Finding out you are alright with her true appearance, whenever you and Jane have your private little hangout times she’ll show her true self to you, maybe even explain her past to you about Jeff.

Nina- when you first started out as friends she would not. shut. up. about. Jeff. Yeah she’s that type of person, yet you tolerated that and got use to her fantasizing. After a while of you two knowing each other, and Nina developing feelings towards you, she’d probably get more quiet around you, and a bit more awkward in your presence as she’s nervous around you. Jeff is already annoyed by her, so she doesn’t want to mess up with you.

Dr. Smiley- he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re always in good health, mentally and physically, and would always scold you if you injured yourself. As his lover interesting, his main goal is to make sure you’re always safe and out of harms way, as well as him regularly sharing details about his most recent ‘operations’ as he believes you’ll be comfortable with it. Let’s hope you’re ready to hear every detail.

Bloody Painter- if you even managed to get Helen to trust you in the first place you get a cookie, he’s always so closed off. His main signs will be preferring to be around you a lot, brushing his hand against yours, asking to draw you, getting a bit flustered whenever you laugh or smile, and just staring at you (not in the creepy way). He may even crack a smile near you and would probably share about his childhood.

Kagekao- honestly this guy is so open he’ll straight up drop the most obvious signs. He’ll flirt with you, play with your hair, be really touchy..you get the gist. He’s very affectionate with you after developing his crush, hell he might even following you around a bit and if you ever manage to spot him he always manages to find an excuse. Not saying it’s a good one, but it’s an excuse.

Zero- panda child? This’ll be fun. Zero, like Kagekao, will be a bit open with her feelings, but not as obvious like the wine demon. She would probably do small little things like hold your hand, ask you how your day was, and if you’re ever sad she will go out her way to hold you close and comfort you the best she can. She is a bit good with emotions, as she remembered how sad Alice would get, so she has some experience with that and would cheer you up.

Nathan- he would try his best to act sane in front of you, maybe even block out his sister’s homicidal thoughts whenever you two are around each other. Nathan would give you small gifts such as necklaces or bracelets, and, like Helen, get a bit of a red face whenever he sees your shining smile. After what happened to his sister, seeing how close they were, he would do his best to keep you out of harm and make sure you’re always safe by sending you texts about how you’re doing. If you don’t answer in about- probably five minutes- he’ll start getting worried and try to call you.

Clockwork- she’d try to deny her feelings at first, seeing as her last relationship went with her boyfriend. After finally accepting she had romantic feelings towards you, her main question to you would always be ‘you like my drawings, right? You don’t find them creepy??’ Clock would also offer to draw you some pictures that aren’t always so gore filled if you don’t like that. Your comfort and thoughts are most important to her.

Pup- poetry, songs, he’s probably the most romantic out of them all. He would always like being around you, and from his past relationship with Emra, he’d always ask you if you’ll leave him. You aren’t dating, correct, but the paranoia still gets to him that he might lose the love of his life again. He’d always second guess his word choice to you to you and keep in mind what would make you uncomfortable.

EJ- Jack would try to drop his cannabalistic acts in front of you and would always keep your comfort in his mind. He might be a bit touchy, like holding your hand, playing with your hair, or just wrapping his arms around you and simply play it off as ‘he’s just cold’. Honestly he doesn’t get cold, at all, but it’s a good excuse to hold you in his arms. He might even unmask himself in your presence as he’s confident you won’t judge his appearance.

Judge Angels- She was already sweet with you when you first started being friends, but as she developed feelings, her actions changed. Dina would often fiddle with her hands, space out a bit, and awkwardly laugh at any questions you have about her behavior. As time goes on she may get a bit more comfortable about your presence and may even give you hugs at random times and just brush it off as she needed a hug.

Jason- being as creative as he is, Jason would probably make small little toys or stuffed animals for you, and would ask for your assistance. He would try to get more used to your hobbies, and might even try them just so he can get to know you even more than he already does. As his hair is long, he might even let you play with it as you please, it’s honestly soothing to him whenever he needs to relax.

Ben: if you’re playing video games with him, he just might let you win on purpose because he loves how excited you get when you beat him, buuuut he would also be willing to kick your ass since your pouty face is also down right adorable. He’d also do the cheesiest thing ever like moving his bed in Minecraft next to yours and probably do some hacks to get your Minecraft dog back from the dead. Smh we gotta love him 😔👊

The Rake- Rake would spend as much time with you as possible whenever you enter the woods. It’s like he can sense you. Whenever you set foot in the forest he always comes running over to you and just sits their, enjoying your company in silence as he doesn’t much prefer to talk. He might get a slight bit physical by resting his head on your arm or shoulder and will just listen to you speak, he may even fall asleep by hearing your soothing voice.

Toby- tobers would constantly be by your side and chatting with you, as he loves to hear your talk and see you light up with excitement whenever you discuss a topic of interest with him. He would try his best to control his tics and stutters, though it wouldn’t work and he’d clearly get frustrated, and embarrassed whenever he would stutter or twitch in front of you. His favorite thing to do with you as you are the love of his life would be to take strolls through parks or in the forest, as walks are always a nice way for him to clear his head and he loves the comfortable silence between you and him.

Rouge- she’d be very reluctant with her first feelings towards you, as her last relationship with her fiancé ended up with him dying. She doesn’t want her significant other leaving her like that again, so she may avoid you for some time. After finally getting some guts and accepting her feelings, she might give it a go with being around you would drop a few hints such as asking you if you want to star gaze, if there’s anything hurting or bothering you, and she’d even offer up her jacket to you if you get cold.

Kate- with how kate is, she’d deny every bit of love she feels. She may even act a bit rude towards you at first. After a week or so, she’d realize her mistakes and get really clingy with you and would just repeatedly apologize by just saying sorry, or she may get you a few gifts. It won’t take her long to finally confess her feelings to you though, as she hates just being near your presence, unable to hold you and have you not question it. (She tried it once and was awkward about making an excuse. It was a terrible one.)

Marble Hornets

Right off the bat, all four of them would avoid you because they don’t want you to get exposed to slender or get tangled in the mess.

Brian- Yes he’d be pushing you away a bit, but that wouldn’t stop him from expressing how he feels. He might send you cute little text messages or call you to check up on you. Rarely, he will stop by and visit, take you out for dinner, and maybe drop a few flirts. It’s hard for him though, as your safety is everything.

Tim- he wouldn’t spend his entire time avoiding you, though he would take caution with you. Like Brian, you’re important to him. Tim and you would probably go out for drives every so often, just to relax and escape reality for a bit, and to chat. He might even bring his ukulele along so he can play some music if you both decide to share no words at all. He might even try to teach you a bit and if you struggle, he’d just find it adorable at how hard you’re trying to learn.

Jay- he’d be the most distant of them all. And after several texts and phone calls to him, trying to find out what was wrong, he eventually just opened up about everything in his life, which he’s glad you‘re supportive and try to help. He might spend the night with you once he finally decides to make contact with you (for cuddles, or so he feels a bit more safer), he’ll go for walks around the park, and might get a bit nervous near you as he’s scared he’ll screw up with some speech or something. He might even let you wear his hat, or jacket if you ask. He’d honestly have a difficult time saying no to you. As your happiness gives him hope in the world.

Alex- he’d have more patiences with you, and might actually be more comfortable with having you close to him after a few days of completely avoiding you. Alex would show you how his camera works, and might even let you record somethings on it. He’d often give you small compliments like how amazing you are, and how sweet you act towards him, and will also get defensive to people if they give you weird looks and such.

[ciestessde]

Phantasma Magica Ch. 8

STORY SUMMARY

Clockwork and the Observants send Danny to Hogwarts on a special mission. But, cryptic as ever, that Old Stopwatch never actually told him what would happen on it!!! “All you need to do right now, Daniel, is stay focused on your mission. And remember, the-” “‘The Lions with the time-turner, lightning-bolt scar, and hair like fire are friends; watch out for the rat; and the black dog is not a threat.’ Yeah, you’ve only repeated that a few dozen times today.”

Next → ← Previous (First)

When Danny arrived in Lupin’s office without the promised rat, well...

Sirius was furious. They now had essentially no way of finding Pettigrew -- except wandering around and hoping against hope that they spotted him.

Remus tried to calm him down. “He won’t have gone far. He has no reason to suspect Danny’s true motives. I’m sure he’ll turn up again-” “But for how long?! We had him! I KNEW I should’ve gotten him myself!” Danny floated down and let his feet touch the floor near the pacing Sirius. “I’m sorry. I can try to track him, but it’s hard to feel a living human soul under an animal’s mind.” Sirius stopped walking and spun to face him. His jaw tight, he growled, “I have a better idea.”

They spent several hours using Sirius’ dog nose and knowledge of the castle (helped by Danny’s invisibility) to search. But with no luck.

Still. The walk and passing of time helped calm Sirius a bit. After finishing by searching the castle grounds -- still with no luck -- they ended their search in the Shrieking Shack.

Defeated, Sirius changed back into a human and sat on the dilapidated excuse for a bed. “...” Danny floated there awkwardly. Remembering how he had almost attacked innocent Sirius in this room... “... I know there wasn’t much you could do.” Sirius head continued to hang -- he was looking at the news clipping he’d shown Danny. The one with the picture of “Scabbers.” “He knows this castle just as well as Moony and me. I just…” A shadow passed over his expression, but he looked up with a fire in his eyes. “I refuse to let that traitor go free. I don’t want go back to Azkaban -- you have no idea what being around that many of those things is like -- but I’d rather that than let Wormtail continue living like nothing happened.” His gaze softened, and his mouth thinned into a line. “That’s no excuse for taking it out on you, though, so… I’m sorry about that. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open for now.”

It had been a particularly long day for Danny, so, despite the sun being up, he decided to sleep in his makeshift bedroom in the Pipes. He had taken some pillows from the Divination classroom, a spare blanket from a closet -- and so on -- to form as cosey a resting area as he could manage in the damp space. Granted, the cold didn’t affect him (thankfully), but these things (the cushions especially) made it easier to relax.

“Scabbers” never showed up again, though, and the disappearance of his beloved pet had a rather unexpectedly drastic effect on Ron. As more and more time passed with no evidence as to what happened, he came to the most natural conclusion: “First the Firebolt, and now this! That bloody cat of yours ate him! He ATE SCABBERS!” If Danny didn’t know better, he probably would’ve agreed with Ron -- Crookshanks had shown a lot of interest in hunting the malnourished rodent, after all. But the extent to which Ron was blaming Hermione for his pet’s “death” was… actually mildly concerning. Danny excused most of Ron’s behaviour as raging hormones, but still… 

A part of him, a large part of him, wanted to tell them what actually happened -- that Scabbers was Pettigrew, that they had no reason to worry about Black anymore… -- But he just couldn’t risk it. If he told them, they’d act differently. And he had no way of knowing if or when Pettigrew might be watching. He couldn’t afford to tip him off. So instead... he let Ron mourn his rat.

Danny had been going with Harry to his anti-dementor lessons, regularly talking with Lupin about phantasms afterwards. The professor had decided to write a book about him. (No personal information, of course!) It was during one of these that Danny’s dislike -- bordering on hate -- of the wizards’ Ministry was solidified. “It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the dementors permission to suck out Sirius’ soul if they find him.” “-What?!” “It’s not that surprising, really. It’s one of the most extreme punishments for criminals -- but that’s the type of criminal they believe him to be.” “How are you so calm about this?!” “I assure you, I am not. But there’s not much more we can do about it than we already are doing. Sirius will just have to be extra careful not to get caught.”

Danny couldn’t argue with that. And besides, he had other things to distract him when he saw his friends the next morning. The teachers had finally satisfied themselves that Sirius’ anonymous present to Harry, the “Firebolt” broomstick, was safe. But while Harry was just excited to have his broom back (him and the entirety of the Gryffindor House, who seemed to think the Quidditch Cup was practically theirs because of it) -- Ron took this as yet more proof of Hermione being a terrible friend. “See, Hermione? There wasn’t anything wrong with it!” “Well -- there might have been!” Danny supposed Hermione’s arguing back didn’t help matters much… “I mean, at least you know now that it’s safe!” “Yeah, I suppose so,” was Harry’s response. ‘Oh wow. I hope I wasn’t this oblivious back when-’ He cut off that thought. There was no point in thinking about that now.

With Ron even more opposed to spending time with Hermione; and Harry thoroughly distracted by the Firebolt, his lessons with Lupin, and the upcoming Quidditch match against the Hufflepuff house… Danny decided to spend more time with Hermione. Hermione, who was secretly using a time-turner to time-travel and attend more classes than she should be able to, but was somehow now drowning in homework in the Gryffindor Common Room… … Danny was very confused.

He tapped her shoulder lightly before speaking so she’d know it was him. “Why don’t you just use the time-turner to get more rest?” he whispered. “What?!” She flinched. That was too loud. She checked to make sure no one noticed, then whispered, “How do you know about the time-turner?” “I was sent here by Clockwork, the Master of Time, remember? That thing is giving off faint time-aura from under your shirt. Although, I can probably only detect it because I’ve been around the stuff so much.” She was silent for a moment. “I’m supposed to avoid changing time as much as possible. Loads of wizards who’ve meddled with time have ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake! To use it for anything other than the absolutely essential is too risky! Professor McGonagall was very clear about the rules I was to follow in order to use it. It’s all part of her agreement with the Ministry.” Danny contained a snort of laughter. “Um… Actually… It’s more like the agreement they have with Clockwork.”

Hermione stopped writing in her notes. “I can personally guarantee that using the time-turner to, y’know… not go insane will be perfectly fine by my mentor.” “... Could we… Speak in private for a bit?” Danny thought he knew where this was going. “You want to know more about Clockwork and stuff?” “If that’s alright.” “I can share a little, anyway.”

Hermione packed up her schoolwork, and they moved to an abandoned classroom. “So the Ministry -- or someone at the Ministry -- knows Chron- I mean, Clockwork?!” “Well… Kind of. I’m not allowed to tell you much, but let’s just say that most of those deaths were actually Clockwork following the orders of HIS bosses. Time travel’s not all that dangerous, really.” “What about paradoxes?” “Things just split into a new timeline.” “Huh… So then, why all the rules?” “To keep humans from abusing the power. They -- Clockwork’s bosses -- don’t like not knowing what’s going to happen.”

There was silence for a few moments while Hermione thought. “Danny… You said Clockwork is your guardian.” “Yeah…” It wasn’t a question. “I’m, uh… Not a normal phantasm…” Hermione winced. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” “No, it’s alright.”

Danny settled down at one of the desks. “... I used to be human. My parents were ghost hunters -- some of the best in the field, in fact! They built what was supposed to be a portal into the ghosts’ dimension -- the ‘Ghost Zone’ -- but it didn’t work. I, like an idiot, went inside to get a closer look. It turned on with me inside it.” Hermione’s eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. “In order for a phantasm to form, rather than be born, a soul has to come in contact with a large amount of ectoplasmic energy and have a strong enough will to live. Clockwork… He saved me. If not for him, I wouldn’t have become a phantasm -- I’d just be dead.” “Oh…” “...”

“Have you… ever gone back?” “...” Danny looked at the desk in front of him. “A few times. But, uh… Going back for too long or often would… not be good. I could become ‘tied’ there and never able to leave. And if that happened…” He paled, “I’d-rather-not-think-about-it.” “I’m sorry!” “--No, no… It’s alright.” He smiled at her. “You, uh, actually remind me a lot of one of my friends from back then.” His eyes lit up, and he smiled. “Sam, she was this big activist. She was a self-proclaimed ‘ultra-recyclo-vegetarian’ and goth, and she always had a cause -- usually multiple -- that she was fighting for! She would’ve loved your whole ‘free the house-elves’ movement! And my sister, Jazz -- you’re both ridiculously smart and like taking care of your friends.” Hermione was blushing a little bit, but seemed pleased. “You must miss them terribly.” Danny grimaced, his smile fading. “Yeah…”

She moved over so she could rest her hand on his arm. Cold, but not as freezing as she expected. “If there’s anything I can do to make this place feel more like home to you…” She smiled comfortingly at him. “Just tell me. You’re my friend.” He smiled back at her.

“So, uh… You going to start using the time-turner more?” “Oh!” Hermione moved back to where she had spread out her homework and grabbed a blank piece of parchment. She started muttering and working out some math problems. “... Yes, if I take a few hours out of my sleeping schedule, there should be enough room for two of me in my bed… And that room should be empty during this period…” She seemed satisfied after a few minutes. And indeed, Hermione looked much more rested after that. Danny even played lookout on occasion to make sure no one noticed multiple Hermiones wandering around.

‘Now that I’ve solved that problem…’ Ron had noticed Danny was spending more time with Hermione, and he took it as a sign of betrayal. Danny tried to think of some way he could bridge the gap between the two: ‘He’ll come around eventually. Even if it won’t be until he finds out about Pettigr-though... I guess that might just make him MORE upset…’ … But he was coming up empty.

Harry (or rather, Harry’s Firebolt) was more successful at cheering Ron up. There was a lot of excitement as the first match came up that Harry’d be riding it in. And when Danny got to see Harry fly on it, he understood why.

It wasn’t quite as fast as Danny was when he flew -- but it was pretty damn close! No one else on (above?) the field stood a chance! And to put icing on the cake, Harry completely humiliated some bullies who tried to sabotage him, too! Malfoy -- (‘Why is it always Malfoy?! That’s it. I need to ask them how this rivalry started!’) -- and some of his friends had thought it was a brilliant idea to try and scare Harry by dressing up and pretending to be dementors. But, as Lupin put it, Harry “gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright” when he used the “patronus charm” he’d been working on in his anti-dementor lessons against them. The group of Slytherin students got into a lot of trouble for their stunt, AND Harry won the game for the Gryffindor team!

And for a while, things were actually peaceful -- for both Danny AND his friends.

But still without any sign of Peter Pettigrew.

~~~~~

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[gyromitra-esculenta]

Crackverse 10: How Harry Met Sa... Part 1

This is a trip down the memory lane. Pretty much the ‘how the hell did they get together?’ and a part of ‘why are there that many Smurfs references in this whole fic?’. Sadly, there are no ugly-ass sweaters this time. The second part will include ‘there was only one bed *gasp*’.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3Part 4 Part 5Part 6 Part 7 Xmas New Year Part 8 Soulmate AU Part 9 

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love.

To say that Gabriel was utterly unimpressed with Jack Morrison upon their first meeting was an understatement. The man was big, blonde, blue-eyed, had well-pronounced cheekbones and a chin you could cut yourself on, and in general appeared as if he just walked out of White Power rally, or maybe even worse, stepped out of Wehrmacht propaganda where he had been used as an example of a perfect Aryan. His carefree cockiness also radiated the textbook case of jock, whose idea of a fun night out was cow tipping. And then, the blonde wasn’t even his type, he preferred them a bit shorter and quieter.

However, not unlike the Autobots, there was much more going under that hood than met the eye.

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd.

*

One of the first qualities that could be observed about Jack Morrison was his apparent death wish. No matter the circumstances, be it sparring, training, or war games, the man was like a rabid wolverine. Literally. Or a rabid honey badger because ratels were scary as shit on their own, but add to that rabies…

Which was many roundabout words to describe the fact that the blonde would take on someone twice his size without looking back, might die fighting his opponent, but, sure as hell, he was taking said opponent down with him. And then he would seemingly resurrect like in those documentaries, all with that demented toothy smile of his plastered on his bloodied lips. And Gabriel was not beyond appreciating that kind of dedication (or craziness).

Yes, Gabriel Reyes was a nerd who not only watched old cartoons – he relaxed with Animal Planet on.

*

Another characteristic of Jack Morrison was not letting any kind of bullshit fly by him, which more often than not ended with a brawl.

“That fucking filthy chink,” Beckson muttered one day in the gym, loud enough for everyone to hear. Jack only smiled that deranged smile of his and put the water bottle down on the bench. Then he almost flew at the man.

Later, with tissue paper stuffed up his nose, still smiling, Jack shrugged at Gabriel’s question of what the fuck was wrong with him.

“I’m not fucking going to let the motherfucker insult my siblings, am I?”

Somehow, Gabriel thought the grin accompanying the blonde’s answer was, in fact, a teeny bit attractive. He pegged it as cabin fever.

*

All of the above made Jack Morrison tolerable, but not someone you would spend your time with or talk to. Until the Smurfs Incident.

“What the fuck are you watching? Are those fucking Smurfs?” Gabriel sighed, exasperated, ready to either tell Jack to kindly fuck off or to make up some lame excuse. “Wow, and that’s the shitty racist episode. You know they were fucking black in the original version?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel grunted when Jack wriggled himself onto the bunk to sit by his side and elbowed him to move the screen so he could watch too. “How do you even know that?”

“Hyung was fucking obsessed with this shit, had to dress up for fucking Halloween, twice as Gargamel and once as fucking Smurfette.” Gabriel snorted trying to imagine Jack in a white skirt. “What? I think I made a fucking fine Smurfette!”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.”

“I’ll get Ma to send me some. Ha, get them, Azrael!”

It got the ball rolling. In the end, they were both kind of nerdy, although each in his own way.

*

Thing was, Ma and Pa Morrison were the God-fearing sort, Catholics, and firmly believed in procreation and populating the God-given Earth, so Jack was the middle child out of ten total, with four sisters and five brothers – all nine of them adopted.

Gabriel didn’t even try to remember the names the blonde gleefully rattled off showing him the pictures, especially since few of them sounded like something nigh unpronounceable. And yes, he had to concede Jack made a damn fine Smurfette, especially considering he had shaved his legs for the occasion. Though, a definitely manly Smurfette.

“Oh my fucking god, that fucking itched like shit regrowing, should have gone with fucking stockings,” the blonde groaned when Gabriel just tapped his finger on the aforementioned photographic evidence. “It got me five beers and a fucking date, on a positive note. And a shit-ton of sweets to divide later.”

“Dated a cheerleader?” Gabriel swiped to another photo where the blonde posed with a trophy. Jack, for a brief moment, looked maybe a bit angry, but then just shrugged.

“Arsehole. Yeah, I did. Went to prom, fucked under the bleachers, almost gave him a shiner week later when he fucking broke up with me because he had said he fucking felt he was obliged to give me a pity fuck before.”

Right. Gabriel knew a thing or two about computers, and it helped the school had no security to speak of. The yearbook had a page titled ‘The Kings of the Prom’.

He was in deep shit now.

*

With the restricted access to the outside world and a very shallow dating pool - not to mention close living quarters that made tempers run short - it was almost inevitable, Gabriel surmised in retrospect, that he had developed a bit of infatuation. The first time it happened, he had been cussing Jack out for keeping his boot-clad feet on the bunk.

“My fucking ass is not moving from the fucking bed,” Jack shot back while turning another page of a worn out book. Gabriel added what he would do to that ass under his breath in Spanish, and froze when he had realized what exactly left his mouth. Thanks to whatever deity that decided to listen, Jack casually looked up at him. “Yeah, fuck you and your little dog too.”

The second time it happened was during sparring when he had finally gotten the upper hand on Jack. The blonde narrowed his eyes, snarled something incomprehensible back, and then used Gabriel’s confusion to twist and elbow him hard just below the ribs.

“Puto!”

“Skurwysyn!”

“Vodka!” Someone called from the benches, laughing.

After that, it became a casual thing with Jack obviously not understanding a word except some most common profanities and answering in kind. Gabriel wasn’t really proud of that, but hey, it helped to relieve some tension.

It all came to a screeching halt two months later when a new supervisor was inducted into the program. The woman, almost unnaturally tall and lanky, with a skin nearly glowing with a shade of violet and raised decorative lines of scars on her forehead, was waiting for them just outside of the showers.

“Mister Morrison.” Jack stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his expression somewhere between pure shock and utter terror. “I get invited to evaluate and supervise the super secret enhancement program and while reviewing the personnel files who do I see enrolled?”

“Achan!” The blonde lost one of his flip-flops when he launched himself at her, engulfing her in a hug.

“Hello, little brother.” Well, Gabriel did comment on that. The little part, not the brother thing. “And here, Ma and Pa are thinking you are doing top secret ranger missions.”

“Oh, fuck, you aren’t going to snitch?”

“And what? Tell them their boy might drop dead any moment because of complex chemicals pumped into his body as opposed to being shred to bits by omnics?”

“Fucking touché,” Jack released her, laughing. “So I won’t fucking snitch you’re not working on your fucking grant, sis.”

“It was enough you weren’t home for Christmas, Jack.” The blonde groaned. “You are coming back for Easter, and, as a gift for the whole family, you can bring your friend.” Achan poked his forehead and Jack tsked, looking back for a second.

“That’s not really fucking good idea, sis. They’re going to start getting fucking ideas.”

Well, Gabriel had some choice words about fucking but seeing Achan’s brows rise made him realize that maybe, maybe, he had made a grave tactical error.

“I’m going to look the other way now,” the new supervisor smirked at Jack as if she were daring him to say ‘hold my beer’. The blonde shuffled on his feet and then turned around rapidly. The punch was solid, but not undeserved, Gabriel admitted to himself from the floor. Jack loomed over him.

“You want to tap that fucking ass, fucking ask.”

Well, it was definitely not his most shining moment. Honestly, it was as far as it got from the most shining moment. It topped even vomiting blood at three-months mark into the program. Gabriel resigned to it and went with the flow.

“Wanna fuck?”

“Sure, why not?” Jack shrugged. “Coming for Easter?”

“Possibly.”

“And call me a butterfly again and you’ll need a proctologist to get that boot outta your arse.”

“I hope this is the last time I’m playing your wingman, little brother.”

One wired jaw later Gabriel realized he was in love. The revelation had not been welcome. He urgently hoped it would pass soon. It still didn’t make the rest of the day any less awkward than it was already.

[narniasummerexchange]

The Lion, The Witch, and the Storage Cupboard

Rating: G

Words: 2500

Summary: Coffee shop!AU – Ivy, Margaret and Betty fell ill at the same time and the four Pevensies have to spend their spring break running Uncle’s Diggory’s coffee shop in Coombe, Cornwall. For @riptidethepen 

«This is so boring,» Susan complained in a flat voice.

Peter muttered something unintelligible, staring at the big oak tree out in the park. They didn’t have trees like that in Central London. Tall, heavy with acorns and lush leaves dancing under the fat raindrops – it was beautiful. The whole garden was beautiful, really, even under the heavy rain that was plaguing Coombe and the whole of Cornwall since the day they arrived.

«Peter! Did you hear me?» Susan called again. «I said this is so boring!»

Peter reluctantly peeled his eyes away from the garden and looked at his sister. Susan sat with her legs crossed on the low seat of the bow window and she was clearly doing her best to look like the picture of utter misery.

«Yes Su, I heard you. Just like I heard you the first six times you said that.»

«And?»

«What do you want me to say, exactly?»

Susan huffed, crossing her arms. «I don’t even know anymore. We’ve been stuck inside this place for five days, Pete. I think I am going insane.»

«I can see that,» the boy mumbled to himself.

Susan ignored him and carried on. «I want to go outside. Talk to people, breathe fresh air. I wasn’t made to be stuck in a room all day.»

«You can always grab an umbrella,» Peter said. «And there are worst places to be stuck in, if you ask me».

He meant that: he had always liked the house but the coffee shop was his favorite place. The room was spacious, illuminated by two tall bow windows overlooking the garden and a fireplace sat in a corner, surrounded by cozy armchairs and wooden benches covered with pillows. The red brick walls were covered with overflowing bookshelves and old family pictures in sepia and black and white. The room used to be the servants’ quarters once, Uncle had said, and behind the counter there was a small wooden door which led to the main rooms of the house through a labyrinth of corridors.

Still, as beautiful as the room was, it was hard to appreciate it after being stuck inside the place for so long.

«There aren’t even any customers,» Susan sighed. «I bet everyone has left this frozen city by now and has gone somewhere where it’s hot and sunny. Maybe in Florida, like Uncle Diggory. Just you see, we’ll be the only ones here all day, all week».

Peter said nothing. He couldn’t just agree with her. Susan had a brilliant mind and the unnerving tendency to be always right, and she used every opportunity to remind him. Cornwall was cold and damp during the spring and Uncle Digory always chose those weeks to leave the manor to his staff and take some days off. He called the Pevensies from Pensacola just a week ago, asking Helen how her children would have liked to man the coffee shop by themselves until he returned. Apparently, his maids had fallen ill all at the same time. It would have been a bonding experience, Uncle Digory said. More like a testing experience, in Peter’s opinion. Unlike his sister he just didn’t feel like complaining about it, though. Cornwall was beautiful even under the heavy rain and besides, he was an optimist at heart.

«Don’t be ridiculous Su. Someone will come,» he said. «And stop complaining, would you? You know Mom didn’t send us here just to help Uncle Digory. She just wants us to spend more time together».

Susan got up from the bow window and came closer to Peter. She rested her elbows on the counter and stood silently for a few moments. «I know that of course,» she said finally. «You are right, as always.»

Peter raised an eyebrow. «Weren’t you the one who was always right?»

Susan smirked. «It depends, o dear brother. In logic reasoning, yes. You are more understanding, especially with mom.» She smirked. «Of course logically you understand that this makes you a mama’s boy,» she added in a sweet voice.

Just as Peter started sputtering in protest, the backdoor slammed open and their youngest sister entered in the room. «Guys, whatever you’re bickering about, stop! I brought cake.» Lucy was wearing a bright yellow sweater, her blonde hair loose on her shoulders.

She carefully set the pan she was carrying on the counter. «What do you think?» It was sponge with lemon curd. Edmund’s favorite, Peter thought with a smile.

«It looks wonderful Lu,» he said earnestly. «But I don’t think anyone’s going to eat it except for us. As Susan who is notoriously always right, kindly reminded-»

«Logic Peter, logic.»

«- it’s likely no one is coming this afternoon.»

«Try “this month”,» Susan added, while Peter leaned on the counter and casually tried to dip a finger in the lemon curd.

Lucy batted his hand away. «I don’t mind. This is just blackmail material for Ed.» She walked to the front side of the counter and sat on a stool. «I’m forcing him to have tea with us this afternoon. He needs time off the books».

Susan nodded. «Good call, Lu. I swear he almost sleeps in the library these days».

Peter shook his head. «I prefer him staying there. He almost cut his hand away with a sword once».

«Oh my god, Mrs. Macready was so angry,» Susan laughed.

Lucy’s eyes were wide with surprise. «What?»

«You were too young to remember,» Susan said, and then proceeded to tell the story.

Lucy and Peter were still cackling when Edmund came in from the front door, drenched from the rain, and of course the sight of him caused more laughter from the pair.

«Oh, I see,» Edmund said to them. He extracted an old book from under his dripping clothes. Thankfully it looked undamaged. «Here you are, laughing at my expenses while I risk my life to come and have tea with you lot». He shook dark hair out of his eyes and looked at his brother and sisters. «Can I get a towel or what?»

«Why didn’t you use the back door!» Lucy laughed as Susan threw him a towel from behind the counter.

«Those corridors are a nightmare! Last time it took me ten minutes to get here and I swear I ended up in a room full of stuffed animals. I didn’t even know Uncle Digory was into taxidermy.»

«Well, I’m glad you braved the dangerous road just to come and see little old us,» Peter said.

Edmund sat in one of the small armchairs, cheeks bright red and toweling himself dry «Shut up. I’m only here for the Wi-fi. Can’t find a place inside the house where it works. Bloody stone walls.»

«You are right on this, I’ll give you that.» Susan jumped off her chair. «I’m going to go in the back and prepare tea. The only thing we have here is this overly complicated Italian espresso machine.»

«I’ll help!» Lucy piped up, jumping off her stool.

They went through the backdoor cursing about the lack of electric kettles in the house and left the brothers in a comfortable silence.

«How’s your reading coming along?» asked Peter as Edmund finished toweling his hair dry.

«Well…» the boy looked at the book he brought with him. «Good, I guess. I’m almost finished with this, but I have two more to finish for the end of this month. We’re lucky that Uncle has such a big library».

«If you say so,» Peter said, amused. «You sure are spending a lot of time in that room, even by your standards.»

«I just want to be done with this,» Edmund said, opening the book.

«Okay, but take it easy. You have plenty of time.»

«Says you.»

«Not just me. The girls too.»

Edmund just scoffed, and settled deeper in his armchair.

Peter frowned. «What? They’re right, you know. You’ve been holed up in that room for days. You should take a break. And by the way, why do we always have to pray you to join us when we’re doing something together?»

 Edmund didn’t have any snarky reply, an obvious sign that Peter had hit the mark.

«Ed,» the oldest boy began, slowly. «I know this has been a difficult year for you, but…»

«For me?» Edmund said harshly. «Peter, you almost ended up in the hospital because of me. How is this difficult for me?».

«I…» Peter was taken aback. «That happened so long ago, Ed. And it was nothing, really.»

Edmund’s laugh sounded off. «Yeah, right. If I got punched in the face would it be nothing for you?»

Peter said nothing – the answer was clear enough. His brother getting hurt was exactly what he had been trying to avoid that day. The guy had been twenty years old and a lot taller than him or Edmund. He had been trying to talk him down when he landed the punch on his face, and had time for another one before the guy’s sister began to bawl her eyes out and convinced him to leave. To his mother he said that he had slipped on the ice and hit his face on a wall. She and Susan and Lucy laughed at the story and he did too, and then he didn’t think about it anymore.

It all had happened about a year before and he never suspected that Edmund was still thinking about that day.

«He was right, you know,» Ed continued, bitterly. «He had a right to be angry at me. I had made fun of his little sister. I had been horrible to her.»

«Oh yes, and that makes it perfectly right for him to beat up a kid half his size,» Peter said angrily. «Please Ed. You were a little beast, we both agree on that. But you’re just a kid, and you made a mistake, like everyone else does. You made amends, and you learned from it so just stop thinking about it, please.»

Edmund said nothing, he just sat in the armchair, holding his brother’s gaze.

«You’re a lot better now, I can see it. And don’t worry about me. This was nothing at all. I won’t let anyone harm you for making a mistake. I won’t let anyone harm you for any reason at all , actually, do you understand?»

Edmund looked at him seriously for another moment, then gave him a tentative smile. «Yeah, I understand. I understand I have a stupidly noble brother who’s willing to risk his neck too often».

«Then maybe you should listen to this brother of yours sometimes, and just take a break,» Peter said.

Edmund smiled and was about to answer when he was interrupted by the sound of the main door opening. The boys turned and both of their mouths fell open with surprise.

A young woman clad in a bright yellow raincoat stood on the front door. She had a guide book in one hand and an umbrella in the other. It was obvious what she was.

«A customer!» Edmund said to Peter in an inaudible whisper.

«Good… good morning!» the girl said with a puzzled expression. «Is this the coffee shop? The lady said first door on the right but-»

«Guys you want black tea or- Oh!» Susan almost dropped the teapot when she saw a stranger in the room. Just like their brothers she and Lucy stared in amazement at the girl, who was clearly beginning to feel uncomfortable.

«Maybe I should just -»

«No, no, please!» interrupted Susan. «Just tell me what you want and we’ll be happy to serve you! Would you like some lemon cake? My sister made it and she’s a terrific cook.»

«I thought the cake was for us,» Edmund muttered. Peter choked back a laugh but the woman didn’t notice anything. «No, thank you. Just a cappuccino please.»

Susan’s smile froze on her face. «Of… course. Just sit wherever you want an I’ll bring it to you right away.»

As soon as the woman turned her back Susan looked at her sister «Lucy,» she hissed. «Fetch the instruction book.»

«Where is it?»

«In the storage cupboard. Go, now!»

Lucy ran through the backdoor as fast as she could. But it certainly wasn’t her fault the corridors in that part of the house were so labyrinthic and complicated. «Why did I have to get lost just now,» she muttered between herself, opening door after door. Of course the fact that she had just a vague idea of where the storage cupboard was didn’t help.

She opened yet another door which led to a room with several closets. Maybe that was it? She checked the drawers and the shelves of the smaller ones but they were all empty. Then she looked at the one that was left.

It was really big, made of dark wood and its doors were carved with trees and flowers. It was too nice to be a storage cupboard, really, but maybe, just maybe…

She opened the doors. Inside there was a row of winter coats and furs, but the cabinet seemed so much bigger than that. She threw the clothes aside and put a knee on the bottom panel. Maybe the instructions book was in the back…

Just five minutes later Lucy ran back through the back door of the coffee shop.

The scene she found would have made her laugh in other circumstances: Susan and Peter were trying their best to make the espresso machine work but their only result seemed to be a burnt smell and a lot of steam. Edmund was trying to distract their customer, who was sitting next to the fireplace and eyeing the espresso machine dubiously.

Susan looked so relieved to see Lucy that it took her some moments to notice that her sister was completely out of breath. «Lucy, thank god you’re here! Did you found the… Lucy?»

Peter looked at her, worried expression. «Are you all right?»

Edmund left the girl with some excuse and ran by the others. «What’s happening?»

Lucy took a deep breath. Then she smiled.

«Just come and see!» she said in an excited voice. The other three siblings looked at each other in surprise.

«Lucy?»

«Lu, there’s a customer here, we have to-»

«It’s not important, trust me,» the girl cut them short. There was something in her eyes… In twelve years they never saw an expression like that on her face. «Come with me,» Lucy said. She opened the back door and disappeared behind it.

Peter, Susan and Edmund exchanged a look, then they looked at the customer, who looked really confused.

«I’m very sorry,» Edmund said. «But it appears we’re closed today.»

Then they turned their backs to the room and ran after Lucy.

[g-d0818]

[Without You]

Genre: Angst , slight smut 

Description: Jungkook thinks he can keep this up , but soon reality of his name hits him. 

Characters: Jungkook x Y/n 

Word Count: 5k

Jungkook drank the strong liquor, not caring for his bruised and bloody knuckles. He had just gotten back from another night with Namjoon and “handling business”. It was around three in the morning and he was debating on calling you or not. “Hey, clean yourself up kid.” Namjoon threw a towel at the younger one, walking towards the drinks to fix himself one.

“How’s Y/n? Haven’t heard you mention her lately.” Namjoon was the only one who knew about you, being as he was his partner and they saw each other every fucking day and he was practically the reason why you two even met. Jungkook shrugged, “Not sure, haven’t seen her lately.” In reality you hadn’t been well, ever since you entered your senior year of high school. You were now taking care of your sister by yourself being as your mom had decided it was time for her to go and your dad had been out the picture, and that meant working two jobs even if it had to be before and after classes.

“You should call her. Especially before Hoseok calls us for another job, and you should probably go check on her sister, isn’t she home alone right now?” Namjoon was right, you had two more hours till you got home, Jungkook finished his drink and headed to your house. 

You lived in the less fortunate part of the city, which had made Jungkook send one of their men to stand outside your house constantly and drive you and your sister everywhere. Of course, no one in his family knew expect Namjoon, it wasn’t that he was embarrassed about you or anything, it was more of not wanting anyone knowing about you to use you against him. Hell, he had just helped Hoseok get his fucking future wife back and she was daughter of a boss, imagine what would happen if they knew of a Jung dating a ‘regular’ all the things that could have happen to you or you having to change your whole life or worse something happening to your sister. Jungkook cared too much for you and her to let anything happen.

Jungkook parked in front of your small house, while the watch was parked in your drive way, he saw a dim light from inside the house and he could imagine you turning it on as you left for work to make them believe you were there. As he exited out the car, he passed by the black car letting Jae know it was him and not some stranger, Jae nodded and gave him an update on what you had done recently. “Thanks Jae, you can go rest, I’ll be here for tonight. Let Namjoon hyung know.” Jae nodded and bowed to the younger future boss.

Jungkook reached for his spare key, you had given to him after he had pleaded for weeks saying he would feel more at ease. He entered to the dimly light house, that smelled of you, passing by the spare room that used to belong to your sister and the next one that used to be yours. Entering the kitchen, he saw the untouched food you had made hoping your sister would eat, but she refused to eat alone, knocking on the white door he waited for a response. “Kat, it’s me, Kookie.” He waited, hoping the 15-year-old was still awake. “Kookie?” He sighed in relief when he heard her walk towards the door. You and your sister slept in the same room now, thinking it would help the house feel less lonely.

She was in sweats and a big shirt that probably belonged to you that you used when you would paint, Jungkook smiled as she went to give him a welcoming hug. “It’s been too long Kookie, why haven’t you visited your fav sis in law?” Jungkook sighed, patting her dark brown hair, “I know, come on let’s eat, I’ll make it up to you.” 

Jungkook had always clicked with your sister, she was mature for her age and understood many things girls her age didn’t get, but he thinks it’s thanks to you although you would deny it. “How’s school?” He knew the answer to that, many of the freshmen in her class ‘worked’ for him in keeping her safe and updated him on her attendance, but he wanted her to talk to him. And that’s what she did, they talked until it was five in the morning and you were almost home.

“Y/n, should be home soon. I’ll go to sleep in my old room tonight, you guys need to catch up, she’s missed you. We both have.” Kat punched him in his arm, and Jungkook gave her an apologetic smile. “No kiddo, it’s alright you sleep in your room, you have school soon, I’ll take you. Me and your sister can sleep in her old room.” Kat smiled at Jungkook, he was always caring for her, maybe it was because he didn’t have a little sister or because he saw how much you cared for her, who knows but he cared for her so much it was burdensome sometimes.  

Jungkook unbuttoned his top buttons, turning on the small television to distract himself while he waited for you. He was sitting on the worn out single sofa, he had wanted to buy you new furniture but you always declined saying it would bring unwanted attention to you guys.

You had met Jungkook while working at the local hotel during your night shift, he was badly beaten and Namjoon was dragging his ass to the room. But you knew of him since middle school, he was the one and only Jung, the youngest and everyone, even the teachers, knew who he was. Namjoon had seen you and was aware that you had seen Jungkook and the condition he was in. “Hey, you. Come here.” Once you had walked towards him he told you a list of things he needed you to bring him. In which case you did, because one, you were scared and two, you wanted to help young man. After that, Namjoon made you stay with Jungkook saying he would pay you what you would be making on those nights you missed, who were you to say no to that kind of offer.

Staying in the same room with Jungkook for practically a month of course you were going to fall for the handsome man but you weren’t sure he was going to fall for you. But he did, and both you or Jungkook wouldn’t forget that night.  

You came at 10 as usual, Jungkook had been waiting, knowing this was the last night you were going to take care of him since he was much better than before. Unlocking the room you couldn’t help but smile at him, he still had a boy charm to him although there were moments you even questioned if he really was around your age. “Hey.” He muttered, you greeted him back, placing his dinner on the small nightstand. “How are you feeling?” You asked him, reaching for the bandage wrapped around his head but to your surprise he smacked your hand away from him. “Just leave.’

“What? Jungkook what’s wrong?” You were surprised to see this side of him, he was always so sweet and shy with you. Sure you knew of his anger temper, of course you did, you weren’t a foolish girl like in your school who thought that Jungkook was the sweetest boy in the Jung family. “Just leave, I won’t tell hyung so you can still get paid. Isn’t that what you want anyways.” Click. You had to stop yourself from laughing, not wanting to make him angrier. “Is that’s what’s bothering you? Jungkook honestly, if me getting paid for helping you is bothering you I’ll tell Namjoon to keep the money.”

Jungkook groaned, throwing himself completely on the bed, “No, of course I don’t want you to do that, I know you need it.” He pulled you towards him, making you lay next to him, he caressed your cheek, “I don’t want to leave nor do I want you to leave.” Now you laughed, which Jungkook found confusing. “Oh yeah Jungkook cause I won’t work here anymore after you leave nor will I live here anymore, nor will I-“

“Okay I get it, so you would be okay with seeing me again?” He asked, and all you could do to respond was to nod and give him a small peck on his mouth. That was six months ago, six months of him sneaking away at night to come see you, six months of pleading you to move to an apartment near him but being denied. Six months of living in fear and in love. Jungkook was close to falling asleep when he heard the back door open, automatically reaching for his gun that was strapped around his ankle. But before he could even fully take it out he saw you, drenched in water, your hair glued to your forehead and your hotel uniform clinging onto your body. “Fuck” was all he could say, “Jungkook?” You asked seeing him with the help of the light coming from the tv. “Y/n.”

Jungkook waited for you, nervous and he didn’t know why, he’s been dating you for six god damn months already. “Get a fucking grip Jungkook.” He told himself, turning his head to the hallway that lead to the bathroom, seeing you step out in old, worn out sweats and a black hoodie. You went into your room, most likely going to check on your sister, Jungkook was growing more nervous, were you mad that he hadn’t visited in three weeks. You came out, bringing him spare clothes he could sleep in, Jungkook would come so often that he had some of his clothes at your house, but he also wanted to have some of your clothes at his. “Here, in case you were spending the night.” You handed him the clothes, he said thank you and headed to the bathroom, now it was your turn to wait.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asked, now on your old bed, waiting for you to lay down next to him. You shrugged, cleaning some of your old things on your floor. “Y/n, come here, you can clean tomorrow.. I’ve missed you.” Jungkook shouldn’t have said the last part, wrong time. “You’ve missed me? You’ve fucking missed me?” You grabbed the stuffed animals that were on the floor, “The fuck do you mean you’ve missed me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the one that can’t go see you, if you ‘missed’ me so bad then why did it take you three fucking weeks to come see me.” You were going to cry, Jungkook knows you worry about him, especially from how you two met. “I know, I’m sorry baby.” Jungkook got up to try to hug you, thinking that would clam you down, but that didn’t help, just worsen everything. “Don’t touch me, god knows who the fuck you touched while you were away.”

Now that hurt him, you of all people should know he isn’t like his bothers, they just date anyone and fuck whoever they want, but not Jungkook. He was committed to you, and only you. “Y/n, I know you’re mad at me but you of all people fucking know I would never fucking cheat on you.” You were still in his arms, he could hear you crying. “I was scared. I thought you were done with me, or fucking dead. When I would ask the man outside he wouldn’t tell me anything, making it worse. And then at school all I would hear were rumors of you being seen with girl after girl.”

Jungkook’s grip tighten, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby. I should’ve called, I promise I won’t do this again. But I’m okay, I’m here okay baby?” You nodded, nuzzling into his chest, “I don’t want to lose someone else, especially you.” Jungkook shushed you, “I know baby, I know.”

Jungkook laid awake, with you wrapped around him, seeing the sky grow lighter, hearing Kat walking around to get ready for school. Jungkook kissed the top of you heard, lightly shaking you to wake up. “Come on baby, you have to go to school.” Jungkook changed and waited for the two of you to get ready, hearing you yell to Kat to hurry so she could eat breakfast, he couldn’t help but smile, imagining how you would be once you were married. You rushing him and the kids, if you wanted to have any, to hurry up to eat before you would leave for work and Jungkook would drive them school and then come home to find the house smelling of food and hearing the kids play around. His thoughts were cut short, with you yelling at him to come eat, “Kookie, come eat.”

Kat told you what happened at school yesterday during the car ride, not missing any details, once Jungkook pulled up to the school Kat got out first. Kissing Jungkook on the cheek, “Thanks kookie. I’ll see you at home Y/n.” she kissed you on the cheek and ran out hoping to find her friends before class would start. “Thank you Kookie.” You kissed him, Jungkook cupped your cheek, he had missed your kisses too much and since last night you had worked he didn’t want to tire you even more. “Stop Kookie I have to go to classes.” You laughed, knowing Jungkook would get worked up and make you late to class, “Just a few more kisses please.” He gave you his big doe eyes, “I haven’t kissed you in forever.” You sighed, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smile knowing he had won, “Fine, go park in the back.”

Jungkook parked near the big tree at the back-parking spot, not wanting to get caught. You were on his lap, sitting in the backseat of his chevy, “Fuck, Y/n.” His hands were everywhere on your body, needing to feel you completely. You moaned, having his mouth latched on your neck, “Kookie, I’m going to be late.” His hand reached in between your bodies, thankfully for him you had decided the weather was nice for a dress, knowing you would stop mentioning school once he was working you. “Come on baby, you know you don’t need to go to that class. It’s an elective, just spend some time with me.” You were going to say some snarky response but instead you moaned out his name feeling his fingers in you. “Fuck you Jungkook.” He laughed, “That’s the plan baby.”

Jungkook got home and was greeted by an angry Hoseok, “Where the fuck have you been? Do you know how many times I called or our mother has called? Why the fuck was your phone off?” Jungkook was about to tell him a stupid made up excuse when Namjoon came in to save his ass, “Ah that’s my fault boss, I told Jungkook to go watch a warehouse I thought another gang was using but I didn’t check his phone before I dropped him off, but I didn’t worry too much, Jungkook can handle himself just fine. Right Kookie?” Jungkook nodded, “Fine, but next time let me know. And did you find anything suspicious with the warehouse?” Jungkook shook his head, ”Nothing boss, just abandoned.”  

Namjoon waited for Hoseok to leave to upstairs, once the boss man was out of sight he pulled Jungkook to sit with him. “Tell me what happened?” Jungkook automatically smiled, “It was fine, she’s doing good, and her sister as well. But-“ Namjoon groaned, “What do you mean but? But what? No but’s.” Jungkook sighed, “She was worried sick and thought I was cheating on her.” Namjoon shooked his head,” I told you, you have to talk to her, poor Y/n.” Jungkook hummed, Namjoon raised an eyebrow, “You aren’t going to”

“I think I should. I hate not seeing her, and she’s worrying just as I am. Plus you should see how she lives, she works so hard but gets nothing.” Namjoon was trying so hard to not hit the foolish boy, “Do you think she’ll want that? And it’s not just her it’s her sister as well, does Kat know what you do? Hell do you think Y/n will let you drag Kat into this shit? Don’t go jumping into making decisions for her, you and me both know Y/n. Her sister is first, above anything else, even you kid.”

Namjoon knew that Jungkook just wanted to keep you and your sister safe, plus anyone could tell how much he wanted you in his life rather than you being a secret. Jungkook sighed, “Yeah, I know hyung, thanks.” With that the defeated boy got up to try to catch some sleep in his room.

Taking off all his clothing, and went to lay on the king size bed, a bed too damn big and too damn empty. It was as if he could feel you laying on his bed with him, in his arms, he wanted, no needed you to be with him. He was growing tired of having to wait so long to see you, having to keep you hush hush when you deserved to be showed off to everyone. He grabbed the empty pillow, screaming his frustration out into it, he loved doing what he did, he enjoyed it and especially loved the respect and fear people had for him, for the Jung name. But how much did he have to sacrifice for the Jung name, he was thinking too much now and he knew that wasn’t good, he needed to rest now so he could do the upcoming mission that would be a week long.  

You walked into the house with Kat behind you, she was telling you how much she hated her math teacher and for making her take so many notes on the same problem. “What do you want for dinner?” You asked her, dropping your backpack onto the sofa, heading into the kitchen. “You don’t work tonight?” Kat wasn’t even sure what days you would go to work at the elementary or to the hotel, so she was surprised for you to ask her what to eat. “I just work at the school today, but I’ll be home early to make dinner.” Kat nodded, she was difficult to show emotions towards you, especially when it came to affection. But you got used to you, sure it would hurt your feelings at first.

“Okay, how about some spaghetti?” Kat lived for anything carbs and saucy, that was her favorite, you agreed telling her you would stop by the store to buy the things to make it. Jungkook had given you grocery money, although you had fought against it and he said that it was alright since he had ‘so much of it he didn’t know what to do with it’.

You changed into something warmer since it would get chillier throughout the day and the kids at your work most likely would want to go outside, as always. You said your goodbye to your sister and she waved as she went into your shared room. You waved goodbye to the new ‘security’ Jungkook sent, you had told him only one and they couldn’t leave the driveway nor enter the house only if Kat was in danger. So, when the security went to start the car you told him no, “You stay here at all times and follow my sister only, I know Jungkook said to ensure my safety but either you stay here with her at all times or I call Jungkook and say you never showed up. Up to you.”  

As you walked to your workplace your mind wandered, you loved Jungkook, he was everything and so much more you could ask for. And he loved you but no matter how much you loved him would compare to the love you had for your sister. And you weren’t sure if Jungkook understood that, you were aware of how his family is, and while yes they would take a bullet for each other they hardly know each other, other than whoever they’re paired with. So when Jungkook asked you once again to move closer to him or even with him you didn’t know how to tell him no. You could talk to Kat and see what she wants to do but she would jump at the opportunity to move closer to him, although she doesn’t have a clue on what he does in reality.

Your thoughts were interrupted with a car beeping at you, usually you ignore any types of cat calls, even if you wanted to go off on the guy you were already running late, so you just decided to walk faster. “Hey, Y/n!” You turned at the familiar voice, “Mark?” you hadn’t seen him in maybe two or three years, he dropped out of high school and went to join into some gang, sadly that was the only thing here. Go to school and leave to get away and come back or just go into gangs. “Hey, where are you heading to? Need a ride?” You nodded, “Could you drop me off at the elementary school? I’m running late.”

Hoseok waited for Taehyung to come in with some good news, but instead he was stuck with staring at these pictures of his youngest brother driving you and your sister to school. “Who are they?” Taehyung bit him bottom lip, nervous with how Hoseok would react to this information. “Y/n, she’s a senior at the high school and works in the elementary along with nightshifts at the local hotel. The girl in the back is Kat, her younger sister.” Hoseok, grabbed the pictures, seeing Jungkook laughing as he drove, “Are they together?”

“Yes.”

Jungkook spun on the black office chair, Hoseok told him they would be having a meeting to discuss his next job, it wasn’t unusual for Hoseok to meet with Jungkook and then with Namjoon, he would often ask on how Namjoon is doing on the jobs and such so Jungkook wasn’t nervous on meeting his oldest brother alone. But that wasn’t the case.

“How are you doing lately kid?”  Hoseok sat in front of him, with the black folder in his hand, the black folder meant next victim. “I’m good hyung, what do you have for me? Or should I ask, who?” Hoseok would’ve chuckled at that, but today he didn’t. “Here. Take a look.” The moment Jungkook opened the folder he felt his heart stop, his palms grew sweaty, he froze, he couldn’t say anything or do anything, all he did was stare at the picture of you three when he drove you to school early today. “What’s wrong kid? You weren’t going to tell hyung about your new little girlfriend?”

“Hyung, where did you-“

“Does it matter? The question is why and for how long has this been going on?” Jungkook licked his lips, feeling dry, “Six months.” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, “How much does she know?” Jungkook shot up, slamming his hands on the desk, “Nothing! She doesn’t know anything, she only knows my name, but I never tell her anything.” Hoseok nodded, getting up to leave the room, “End it before something happens to her.”

Jungkook crashed, he ruined it, the short happiness he had with you, was over.

You sighed as you finally unlocked the front door, picking the grocery bags back up to take them in, work was far too long and the kids were too hyper for a Monday. “Kat, I’m home. Did you get the wat-“ The house was destroyed, someone or a someone’s had come in and destroyed the small household, your first instinct was to find your sister , your heart was racing, your hands shaking as you opened every room door. Yelling her name, you froze when you found her on the bedroom floor, Jae came rushing in, gun armed and in his hand, “Y/n!” he looked for you, you sat on the floor gripping onto the unconscious girl. Sobbing, you yelled for him to call an ambulance. “Come on Kat, wake up baby. Please wake up.”

“Here let me carry her, I’ll get us to the hospital faster.” You nodded, letting Kat be taken from your arms, Jae told you to reach for his phone and call Jungkook. You were shaking as you searched for his number, when you found it you heart was pounding as if it was going to jump out of your chest. Whoever did this to your sister needed to pay, and you were going to make sure of that.

Jungkook was sitting on his bed with his room dark, thinking of how he would end this. How would he be able to break this off, when he was the one who promised to make sure to never break your heart. How is he going to be okay with the fact of not having you, he was nothing without you. The false hope of having a future with you was destroyed just like that. Deep in thoughts he barely heard his phone ringing, he wasn’t going to answer it but then he saw it was Jae, and he would only call him first if something had happen. 

“Jae?”

“Jungkook! It’s Kat, she’s. Kook. She isn’t. Waking. Up.” You were sobbing, Jungkook shot up and ran towards his car, needing to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

When Jungkook arrived at the hospital he desperately searched for you, when he found you his heart clenched. You were a crying mess and pacing around the room, your anxiety getting to you, your eyes found him and you went running to him. “What happened?” He asked, not understanding how Kat ended up in the hospital especially when he just said he was on his way and hung up. You explained to him how you had gotten home and found Kat, the rage he felt was growing as you broke into tears asking if Kat was going to be okay. “I’ll take care of it baby, you just stay with Kat.” He cupped your cheeks, looking into your eyes, “I promise, I’ll find this fucker and make him pay.” You nodded, “Thank you Kookie.”

What you said next broke him, “What would I do without you.”  

Jungkook walked into his house with eyes full of anger, walking towards the one and only Hoseok’s room, he didn’t care that he didn’t knock, he knew it was him. If it was anyone else they would’ve killed Kat, but his older brother had done it to prove his point. Hoseok was talking to Taehyung, of course Taehyung was like his loyal dog than anyone else in the family, “Jungkook? Can I help you?”

Jungkook glared, at him, how could he be this cruel, he had just put a teenage girl in the hospital and here he was acting normal as ever. “Yeah, you could fucking help me understand why Kat is in the hospital.” Taehyung went to Jungkook to calm him down before he said anything that could get him in trouble, “Get your fucking hands off me, do you know what your oh so perfect brother did to a 15-year-old who didn’t know shit about us?” Hoseok went around his desk, telling Taehyung to move aside, and grabbed the youngest by the neck. “Listen Jungkookie.” He got closer to his ear, “I did it for your own good. You’re lucky it was me and not our rivals that hurt the poor girl.” Jungkook was struggling to breath, he digged his nails into Hoseok’s arms, hoping that would get him off. Taehyung begged Hoseok to let Jungkook go, and when the oldest did Jungkook fell onto the floor, gasping for air.

“I told you to end it, now you won’t hesitate. You think Y/n will be with you if she knows that you’re the reason why her own little sister ended up in the hospital?” Hoseok’s words stabbed him with guilt, he was right, as cruel as it was he was right. Hoseok left Jungkook alone to be with his thoughts, Taehyung waited to stay but Hoseok told him to follow him out.

Jungkook cried.

He cried knowing he had to end it, he had to let go of you because he knew that you would never forgive him for being the reason of your sister’s attack. And while he cried, he called you knowing you still had Jae’s phone with you. “Kookie?”

“We need to talk Y/n.”

You waited outside of your sister’s room, seeing the nurses walking around, your nerves were on high since Jungkook had said he needed to talk to you. You bit your lip searching for black hair and feeling relief when your eyes found the familiar hair, you started to smile but stopped when you saw his face. Waking to meet him, you grew worried, “What’s wrong kookie?” You touched his cheek but he flinched away, “Let’s go outside.”

It was cool and already dark, you weren’t sure what time it was, but if you had to guess it was close to midnight. Jungkook couldn’t look at you, making you worry, “Kookie? What did you want to talk about?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, “We can’t be together anymore Y/n.” You were confused, more than confused, you weren’t sure if you could say surprise but you were. Things between you guys was perfectly fine and you had just seen him again after three weeks and now he was ending things, it wasn’t making any sense. “What?”

“We have to end things, for the sake of your safety and Kats.” You walked closer to him, grabbing his face, so he could look at you and not the pavement, “You make us safe.” You saw it in his eyes, the words you said were breaking him, “What’s really the problem kookie? If it’s Kat then it’s alright I know you’ll find the guys and-“

“Stop.” He pulled your hands away from him, “Don’t say shit you don’t know anything about. You don’t even know who did it or why.” Now you were seriously confused, “What?” Jungkook was on the verge of tearing his hair out, he grabbed your arms, looking straight at you, “She’s in there because you’re with me. Our relationship is to blame, and in order to keep you girls safe I have to end things between us. So just stop and forget about this alright.”

“Kookie you-“

“Don’t call me that. I’m JungKook. A god damn Jung and future boss, don’t you get that.” He was growing frustrated, you weren’t making this easier for him. His words angered you, “If that was the fucking issue then why did you date me to beginning with? Fucking pathetic ass, using your name as an excuse to end this just beca-“ “Don’t you fucking get it, my brother sent them to hurt Kat because he knows about us.” The world crashed onto you, making you feel guilt and anger, you sister was here because of you and Jungkook. “Exactly.” He let you go, “Even if I love you and you love me, we have to end this for the sake of your sister. If we don’t, next time your sister won’t just be unconscious.”

Kat felt exhausted, and her head was pounding, she felt weight on her legs and saw you sleeping on her, she saw the clock on the wall announcing it was five in the morning. She smiled but it soon faded when she saw your cheeks full of smudged make up, thinking it was most likely you worrying over her. But as she scanned the room she was disappointed to find the room lacking of the tall older man and concluded you and him have gotten into an argument.

She lightly shook you awake, and was bombarded with kisses and “Thank god”, she didn’t ask about Jungkook, thinking it would be best to give you some time. “Ouch.” She flinched when you touched her head, you muttered an apology. Thankfully the doctor said she just needed three-day rest and then she would be able to leave the hospital.

Jungkook sat at the bar, Namjoon sitting next to him, making sure the youngest didn’t drown himself in alcohol. He patted his back, “It’ll be alright Jungkook, it’s for their safety.” The heartbroken young man nodded, “Yeah. For their safety of my own brother.” Swallowing the drink in one go as he ordered another one, he was going to need more if he was going to be able to go on without you.