#I promise I am working on the new chapter too but weaker getting close to the end and I have commitment issues

[nerdanel01]

me: hey I’m feeling creative and unusually energetic after a day of work, what if I wrote some fanfiction?

the terrible voice inside my brain: what if instead you printed all 800+ pages of your fanfiction that you have already written and gave it one more line by line edit for spelling, rhythm and grammar?

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Part Two: "Déjà Brew" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) Back in Hawkins, Reader is still reeling from the news she's just received. Turns out, sometimes the love of a mother might just be the very help you need when times are tough. — (Now) At Brew and Me, Reader struggles with the stress of motherhood and working. Turns out, a visit from her least favorite patron might be the thing she needs to cheer her up.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 2,120

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, mentions of food, mentions of medical-related things, small mention of childhood cancer (not related to any of the main characters in this series), lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: ngl, the writing in this chapter sucks but i promise it gets better!!

Originally Written: 10/08/2023 through 10/12/2023

honeysuckleharringtons' masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, June of 1987 ]

You'd been holding onto the knowledge of your pregnancy for roughly two days, and since then, everything had felt upside down.

You'd looked for every reason possible to not see your boyfriend. You only spoke to your mom and siblings when spoken to. And worst of all, despite the human being growing inside of you, you felt absolutely empty.

You truly wanted to be happy about this. After all, a new human life was forming in your stomach. But the pain of anyone in your small town finding out you were a sinner, and the gossip about how you'd thrown your life away for some guy, it was just too much to bear.

So instead of facing your problems, you'd holed up in your room, lights out and window closed. You only left your room to grab snacks—which lay uneaten on your nightstand—and to use the bathroom. To your family, you were a passing ship in the night, a ghost barely seen. And just when you thought you'd run out of tears, more slipped out of your eyes and onto your pillow, which you were holding like your life depended on it.

It was sometime in the afternoon when Joyce knocked on the bedroom door. You'd cried for so long that you lost track of time, only realizing it was afternoon due to the setting sun peeking through the curtains. "Honey?" she called, barely getting the word out before gently opening the door. She must've registered quickly what was happening, closing the door behind herself in record speed. "Honey, what's the matter?" she cooed, a loving hand meeting your shoulder.

It's now or never, you thought to yourself. Pulling yourself up, you wiped the excess tears away with the pads of your thumbs. "Mom," you sniffled, the word sounding weaker than ever, "I've done a terrible thing."

"I'm sure it's not that bad, my sweet," she said, taking your hands in hers. "You know you can always talk to me, right?"

You nodded, though you were questioning if that statement really was true, considering the bomb you were about to drop on her. More tears involuntarily slipped down your cheeks, your eyes darting anywhere in the room besides her face.

Joyce ran a soft hand through your hair, clicking her tongue lightly. "Honey, I want you to know that you don't have to feel pressured to tell me what's wrong. But I am always here if you do want to tell me."

You forced the words to come out, and you were nearly hyperventilating before you'd even said them. "I don't really know how to tell you, because I'm not quite sure how you'll take it."

Her lips left a soft peck on your forehead, a silent reassurance that she was there for you. An unsteady breath exited your mouth, before you finally said the dreaded words you'd been thinking about for the last forty-eight hours. "The terrible thing is… I'm pregnant. And I have no clue what to do."

You braced yourself for impact, waiting for her to throw you out into the street or scream at you or slap you or anything really. You'd gone over every possible reaction in the book, hoping to find a rebuttal to each one.

Still, the screams never came and her hand never even touched your skin, other than the moment she pulled you into her side. "Oh, honey," she whispered, a tone of sympathy clear in the words.

Tears started to fall once again as she held you close, a gentle hand rubbing soft circles on the small of your back. You'd surely covered the both of you in tears and snot, but truth be told, that was the least of your concerns, given the situation.

"Y/N, you're gonna be okay," she reassured. "I promise, there is nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you. And from here on out, there's nothing that is going to stop me from loving this child. I'm going to be here for you every step of the way. Okay?"

Through your crying, you managed to ask, "You aren't mad at me?" Genuine confusion took over you at her response to the news. You'd been convinced she'd be angry, never considering that she was the one becoming a grandmother.

She clicked her tongue again. "No, I'm still very frustrated with you for doing something this irresponsible. But that doesn't mean I don't love you or this baby."

It felt like all the blood had drained from your body as you lay practically limp in your mother's arms. The air was heavy as she waited for you to say something, anything, but the words never came. Words seemed a million miles away as the discovery of life inside you started to feel all too real.

Some time passed before she spoke again—whether it was two minutes or two hours, you didn't know. Her hand rubbed soft lines over your disposed arm, her touch as warm and welcomed as your favorite childhood blanket. "Honey, I've been where you were before. Maybe not exactly your situation, but I know what this feeling is like—the worry of what the dad is gonna think, the anxiety of caring for two people. It's terrifying. But I've got good news for you," she paused, kissing the top of your head. "You don't have to do it alone. Because I'm gonna be right here."

You weren't sure you gave her a response to that. Full-on sobs were now wracking your body, despite her kind words. Your tears flowed and your chest heaved, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to stop. Panic and fear coursed through you, and as much as you wanted to be happy about this baby, the only true feeling you had at the moment was resentment toward yourself.

[ Now, November of 1991 ]

"Max, honey, do you know what time it is?" you asked, quite frantically. "I left my watch at home this morning."

A knock sounded on the counter behind you. "It's time for me to be your boyfriend," Steve said smugly, giving you a smirk as you turned to face him.

Max glared down at her watch, rolling her eyes at the cheesiness occurring in front of her. "Actually, it's almost 7:30," the redhead answered, pulling down the sleeve of her flannel shirt.

A grateful sigh slipped past your lips. "Ah, sweet freedom," you said before turning your attention back to Steve, who was sporting a curiously teasing look across his face. "What? I've got a hot date with a bubble bath and my feet and backbone couldn't be happier."

"Sounds sexy," he snickered.

Max huffed in fake annoyance as she passed the latte in her hand over to the brunette girl on the opposite side of the counter. "Have a nice evening," she smiled, then turned to you and Steve, to which she quipped, "If I had a dollar for every time one of you told the other something that was inappropriate to say in a coffee shop, I'd make enough money to pay off my student loans."

"Hey, it's not my fault your boyfriend is off playing basketball at Princeton and training for the NBA," you shrugged, joking of course.

Max gave you a fake pout. "That is below the barista belt, Y/N. That's just cruel."

You shot her a playful smile, giving her a sisterly pat on the arm. "Why don't you get started on the tables, hon'?"

And with that, Max was grabbing her cleaning supplies and heading to clean off the abandoned tables. You gave Steve your attention once more, curious as to if he was interested in holding up to his end of the bargain.

He surprised you with the response that came out of his mouth. "I will have a salted caramel latte with almond milk," he said proudly, sure that his answer was right. "Are you ready for that date yet?"

Your lips formed into a thin line, a look of regret coming to your face. "I hate to tell you, Doc, but nut allergies are a very common thing in my family."

"You work with almond milk all the time," he rebutted, a hand on his hip.

Your eyes narrowed in on him, not ready to back down from his challenge. "I don't like caramel."

He scoffed. "Who doesn't like caramel?"

You shrugged. "Me."

"Why don't you just admit that I was right and tell me where you wanna go next weekend?"

"Because you're wrong and I'm busy next weekend," you answered, both responses true.

He finally broke eye contact with you to look over at Max. "Hey, Max, is a salted caramel latte with almond mix Y/N's favorite item on the menu?"

"Everyone knows she hates almond milk," she answered. "I'm disappointed in you for not knowing."

His attention turned to you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. "How do I know she isn't being paid to say that?"

An exasperated sigh left your mouth. "We make five bucks an hour and you expect me to have extra money to throw at Max? No offense, Max."

"None taken," she laughed, still scrubbing away at one of the tables. "I don't have money to throw at you either."

Steve shook his head in some mixture of disbelief and playfulness. "Would you just get me my coffee? To-go, please."

Your brows furrowed as you got to work on the drink. "What's with the to-go order? You hardly ever get your coffee to-go."

"If you must know, I happen to have a hot date of my own," he said vaguely, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Sounds sexy," you jested. "Who's the girl?"

"A cancer patient in the PEDS ward."

Your expression went from curious to downright confused at his statement. "Do I wanna know how that constitutes as a hot date?"

"She's got a crush on me so I get asked to sit with her on nights that her mom works," he explained, slipping some cash into the tip jar. "It's a hot date because every time I go in her room, she asks me to crank the heater all the way up. I think that's just because she likes the way I look when I'm sweaty."

A gentle smile appeared on your face as you passed him his latte. You thought about your own little girl, who'd be here any minute, and how much you regretted nights like those where she was left to her own devices, left to stay with your mom or one of your brothers instead of the person she needed most.

You shook off the thoughts, taking the money from his opposite hand and placing it in the cash register. "Have a brew-tiful night and enjoy your date, Doc."

And with that, Steve gave you one last playful smirk and headed out the door, but not before a certain little girl ran past him and over to you. Joyce followed suit behind her as Steve held the door open, then began his journey out to his car and, presumably, the hospital.

"Mommy!" Mandy squealed, running around the counter to greet you.

You picked her up, happier than ever to see her, placing a kiss on her soft hair. "Hey, sweetpea," you smiled, love overflowing from you as she wrapped her tiny arms around your neck. "What did you get up to today?"

"Grandma took me to the park!" she answered excitedly, her hazel eyes lit up with delight.

You gasped, playing along with her enthusiasm. "No way! You'll have to tell Mommy all about it."

"Now, don't get mad," Joyce started to say as she walked over to you.

Your brows furrowed. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"

A regretful look came across the woman's face, explaining, "We passed an ice cream truck on the way here and-"

"Mom, you know I always give her one of the leftover cake pops at the end of the day. She can't eat too much sugar."

"I know," Joyce said, "but Jon's in town for Thanksgiving so he's offered to give you us both a night off."

It was selfish, but you'd never been so grateful for your brother to be home. You sighed, setting your daughter back on the ground. "Well then, let's put all that energy to use, shall we?"

And with that, Mandy was hot on your trail, following you around as you worked to close up the shop. You just smiled down at the girl, prouder than anyone had ever been to be a mom. Sure, it was biased, but you were quit certain you had the best girl in the whole world.

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

[discar]

HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 50 (Eclipse omake) | Prev chapter Chapter Index

ChosenOfTheSun: Rise and greet the Sun, for it is a new dawn!

FavoredOfTheSun17: And a beautiful dawn it is!

PlumageOfTheSun8: [ANewDay.jpg]

ChosenOfTheSun: And what is that supposed to be, Kestrel? You had work to be about.

PlumageOfTheSun8: My team executed the attack and killed the heretics exactly as instructed, Lord Helis! The Sun saw fit to bless our victory with the timely arrival of this beautiful dawn!

ChosenOfTheSun: Very good. Continue on, then. Victory under the Sun.

PlumageOfTheSun8: Victory under the Sun!

ChosenOfTheSun: Sylens. Have you received the latest shipment of Focuses?

Sylens: Indeed. Many are damaged beyond my ability to repair, but I should have another dozen ready within the week.

ChosenOfTheSun: Slow.

Sylens: We are all limited to the light the Sun grants us.

ChosenOfTheSun: Do not mimic words you do not understand, outlander.

ChosenOfTheSun: Is no one else awake? Where are my reports?

FavoredOfTheSun10: Lord Helis, my men are reporting that the tests with the corruptors was a full success. We can maintain any number of machines indefinitely.

ChosenOfTheSun: Excellent. How are our numbers of corruptors?

FavoredOfTheSun10: Still low. However, we have had no losses after the first incident with the thunderjaw. We are keeping to weaker machines for now, but I anticipate moving on to more dangerous ones soon.

ChosenOfTheSun: Acceptable.

ChosenOfTheSun: Oseram. What is the progress on finding more dig sites?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I think I've found a few.

ChosenOfTheSun: SIR.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Yes, of course. I think I've found a few, sir.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I'll need more time to be sure, though.

ChosenOfTheSun: You always seem to need more time. Perhaps we should see how much time your family has left.

PlumageOfTheSun28: I am ready at your order, my lord!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: No, please, I promise I am working as fast as I can. Expeditions cost money, as you know, and there is only so much I can get out of the Sun-King.

ChosenOfTheSun: The FALSE Sun-King!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Of course, sir! I apologize, I have spent too long among the traitors. I have to be careful with my words around them.

ChosenOfTheSun: Perhaps. Though perhaps we can make do without you and your whining after all.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: EVEN THE BLIND MAY REFLECT THE SUN'S LIGHT.

ChosenOfTheSun: You are correct, as usual. Even an Oseram has a use.

ChosenOfTheSun: Now, where are the rest of my reports?

----

Direct Message (@ RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson])

Sylens: I have questions about your survey methods.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: What are you doing? How are you doing this? I thought I couldn't recieve private messages.

Sylens: I have special permissions. Regardless, I have some interest in archeology. Are you using Carja cartographical methods, or Oseram?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Uh, Oseram. Well, Carja for the larger maps, since they're better at that. But Oseram methods are better at the smaller scale, to map the individual dig sites.

Sylens: Indeed. How are you finding the ancient machines? I have looked over your previous dig sites, and I have difficulty spotting a pattern. Other than the fact that they appear to be distant from any existing settlements.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: That's actually Helis' request. He doesn't want to attract attention. There are a couple places I suspect are large caches, but they're too close to towns.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I mostly look for out of the way sites. These machines usually aren't found in major ruins, like the metal towers. They're more often the only thing of interest in the area. So when one of Avad's survey teams spots something, but don't think it's likely to be important, I inform the Shadow Carja.

Sylens: I see. So you are using the work of others to make up for your own shortcomings.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: The Shadow Carja don't have the manpower to map out the wilds.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I'm sorry, why are you asking me this? Helis knows all of this. You could just ask him.

Sylens: Lord Helis has better things to do with his time than indulge my curiosity.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: ...you're not afraid of him?

Sylens: I am cautious of him. But he is a known quantity. So no, I am not afraid of him.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Then, could you help me?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Not me, my family.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: If you can get them out, I would be forever in your debt. I would remain working with you, since of course you and the Shadow Carja share the same goals, but if you could somehow convince Helis to give them up, I would be so much more motivated.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: ...hello?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: [You have a restricted account, and may not send or recieve private messages. Please contact your administrator for more details.]

----

ChosenOfTheSun: Vezreh, I still do not have your report.

ChosenOfTheSun: Vezreh!

ChosenOfTheSun: He should not still be asleep. The Sun has been shining for hours now. He is not one for indolence.

Sylens: He is likely out of range. Didn't you say you were sending him to Sunfall?

ChosenOfTheSun: Indeed. This is quite frustrating.

Sylens: I am well aware. However, options are limited.

ChosenOfTheSun: Yes. For now, we will keep our forces centralized, to ensure we are all in range of communications.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Lord Helis, I do not mean to speak out of turn, but remember that we require constant communication with the Oseram delver. If we lose touch, he may falsely believe he can escape.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: You do know I'm still a part of this conversation?

FavoredOfTheSun5: I was not speaking to you.

Sylens: Do I need to show you how to use private messages again?

FavoredOfTheSun5: The words of the Sun shall be heard in the light of day!

Sylens: I am unsure of the context of that quote.

ChosenOfTheSun: Remind me again why we must continue to use outlander filth instead of strong Carja warriors.

PlumageOfTheSun12: The glory of the True Carja shines too brightly for even the traitors to miss!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: The last spy you sent into Meridian got caught in less than a day because he was yelling about the glory of the Carja in Shadow.

ChosenOfTheSun: And how would you know this, Oseram? Perhaps you set him up.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: My lord, I would not contradict you. Of course, you remember I was at a dig site with you at the time.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Erend Vanguardsman told me the story over drinks once I got back.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Which one is Erend? The drunk one?

FavoredOfTheSun17: They're all drunk.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Erend is the brother to the captain of the guard.

ChosenOfTheSun: Outlanders guarding the false king in our most sacred halls... at this rate, the entire city will have to be burned to purge it of corruption.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: LOOK TO THE SUN. DO NOT SHIELD YOUR EYES. IN ALL THINGS, IT IS ABSOLUTE. ONE DAY IT NURTURES LIFE, AND THE NEXT, SCORCHES LIFE AWAY. IT BURNS THE SKIN OF CHAMPIONS AND WRETCHES ALIKE. NEVER DOES THE SUN SHOW PITY.

ChosenOfTheSun: Wise words that we should all remember.

Sylens: If I recall correctly, that quote was referring to a prophet who starved in the desert.

ChosenOfTheSun: Silence, Sylens.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Excellent jest, Lord Helis!

ChosenOfTheSun: What jest?

FavoredOfTheSun5: Uh, never mind. I spoke out of turn.

FavoredOfTheSun17: I thought it was a good one.

ChosenOfTheSun: I believe you two have work to do.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Yes, Lord Helis!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Yes, Lord Helis!

ChosenOfTheSun: I will plan for keeping our forces in as constant contact as possible. Do not bother me until nightfall.

----

Direct message (@ Sylens)

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: SYLENS. I HAVE TAUGHT YOU MUCH. YOU ARE ALWAYS EAGER.

Sylens: You have more for me?

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: INFORMATION ON QUANTUM PROCESSING. ADVANCED SCIENCE EVEN IN THE OLD WORLD. YOU ARE UNLIKELY TO FIND INTACT ARCHIVES.

Sylens: Very well. What do you want in return?

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: EXPAND THE RANGE OF THE FOCUSES. I AM SURE THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN CONSIDERING THE PROBLEM.

Sylens: I suppose I should be honored by the compliment.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: YES.

Sylens: Very well. I will need materials.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: ALL THAT THE ECLIPSE HAS WILL BE AT YOUR DISPOSAL.

Sylens: I require a Tallneck.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: A HEAVYWEIGHT COMMUNICATION/RECON CLASS MACHINE. YES. THIS WILL HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED AND MORE. DESTRUCTION OR CAPTURE WILL BE DIFFICULT. THEY ARE EXTENSIVELY HARDENED AGAINST ALL FORMS OF ATTACK. EVEN A DEDICATED ASSAULT BY A FAS-ACA3 SCARAB IS UNLIKELY TO TAKE CONTROL FOR LONG.

Sylens: Oh? I know that they are almost impervious to physical harm, but I did not now they were hardened against digital and nanite assault.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: I DO NOT HAVE INFORMATION ON DESIGN CHOICES. I WILL NOT SPECULATE.

Sylens: Very well. Regardless, they are peaceful machines. It should not be difficult to capture one, though it will not be a trivial matter.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: ALL THAT THE ECLIPSE HAS WILL BE AT YOUR DISPOSAL.

----

ChosenOfTheSun: Night falls, and the Sun sleeps!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Glory to the Sun!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Do you have to do this EVERY night?

ChosenOfTheSun: Is there a problem, outlander?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: No, sir. Apologies, sir.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Even an Oseram has to see the beauty in THIS!

PlumageOfTheSun89: [DuskMesa.jpg]

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Actually, yes, that IS beautiful.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Thank you!

ChosenOfTheSun: If I recall, you had a mission on that mesa, Kestrel.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Don't worry, I killed the Utaru workers who were scouting out a new field! Mission accomplished.

ChosenOfTheSun: An excellent way to end the day. Victory under the Sun!

PlumageOfTheSun89: Victory under the Sun!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Victory under the Sun!

FavoredOfTheSun5: Victory under the Sun!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Victory under the Sun.

----

Direct Message (@ RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson])

Sylens: Don't encourage them.

Chapter 50 (Eclipse omake) | Prev chapter Chapter Index

[casspurrjoybell-31]

The Consort's Will - Chapter 26 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Brayden

Distant shouts creep into the soundwaves, hitting my ears in warning.

They are still too faint for Tegan to hear but I know our window of opportunity is running low.

"They're coming," I say.

"We need to leave."

Tegan nods and works to get Kelly on his feet, leaving a small token of privacy while I am forced, once again, to say goodbye.

"Take care of him," my human whispers, his voice on the edge of tears.

"I wouldn't trust him with anyone but you."

"I will, human. I promise. I will see you once again."

I cup his cheeks in my hands and place a single kiss to his lips.

Their warmth spreads over me and in it, all the emotions he reserves for me.

I realize I do not deserve them.

I always believe humans to be weak but my human is the exception.

He loves me with a power far greater than any of my own.

I pull him into me while we kiss, giving him my thoughts in the only way I know how.

When my human breaks our moment of intimacy, he is breathless.

I can feel his desire, his want and it mirrors my own.

I also smell his scent and the aching pain of hunger rumbles through my veins.

"Before you go," he says, grabbing my arm and looking up at me with pleading eyes.

"I have a request of my own."

It's loud enough to pull Tegan's attention to us.

"Change me," my human says.

"Reyo is obsessed with me and it's not just for my blood. He'll keep me no matter what form I'm in but at least if I'm changed, he can no longer use my blood as a serum to kill vampires."

"No, human. I cannot risk it."

"Finn's right," Tegan says, assisting Kelly towards the door and pulling rope from her back pocket to begin tying herself up.

"Reyo won't kill him. Even if he's not human, Reyo's obsession is deeper than that. Even as a vampire, Reyo will want to test Finn's blood, to see what use he will be to the war. He can't kill him, Finn will be indestructible. But at least this way, he won't be the single source used as a weapon against the vampires."

The shouts become louder and I tighten my hands into fists at my sides.

"Are you sure, human? Are you sure this is what you want?"

He nods.

"I'm sure."

I do not think about it.

I cannot.

If I do, I my instincts will go into preservation mode.

My human's blood is the only one that can truly sustain me.

Changing him means a future of unending agony.

Our tie will be severed, his memories erased.

I know he does not think of these things as he makes his request, he simply wants to take charge of his own life.

To no longer be used as a weapon in a war.

I feel his love as I breathe in his sweet scent, allowing my fangs to elongate.

I close my eyes and lean forward, feeling his soft, creamy skin against my lips.

He lets out a cry of pain as they pierce his neck, more harshly than ever before.

Unlike prior feedings, I do not savor the taste.

I gulp his blood down as fast as possible and in exchange, I push my vampiric blood into his system.

The effect my blood has on his cells is immediate.

In seconds he is unconscious, slumping into my arms.

I continue my work and tremble as our bond wanes, growing weaker and weaker before it severs completely.

No longer can I sense his emotions.

No longer can I feel his whereabouts or his experiences.

Now it is nothing but silence, a hallow void that will haunt me for eternity.

I drink from him our memories, his emotions and his human essence.

I unapologetically indulge, becoming drunk on his blood for the last time.

In exchange, I give him immortality and a brand-new life.

A life without me.

It is this sobering thought that causes a foreign feeling to creep up my throat, forming a single tear at the corner of my eye.

My human will not remember me or this act of self-sacrifice I am giving to him.

I will be the one to carry our memories and our story, fighting for him in the shadows for years to come.

But in the end, our fates play out the way they were always meant to.

Instead of my human making a final sacrifice for us, it is now my turn to make a final sacrifice for him.

For my Consort.

My Consort's Will.

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter

♣   —   summary: when you told armin to pick up eren’s call while he was fucking you, you weren’t expecting things to escalate this quickly. not that you were complaining.

♣   —   pairings: armin x reader, eren x reader, armin x reader x eren

♣   —   chapter tags/warnings: oral sex (receiving), spanking, humiliation, degradation, semi-public, degradation kink, rough sex, mirror sex, alcohol and drugs.

♣   —   a/n: thank you so much for all the love you’ve been giving this story so far! it makes me so happy you are all enjoying it so far. when i finished this chapter i realized the influence of halsey’s ‘strange love’ had lmao so if you have a chance, check it out. also this is a eren centric chapter while the next one will be centered around armin c: 

chapter four: the bathroom sink

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? Last chance.”

Armin nodded, a soft smile on his lips. You were sitting on his bed, wearing a tiny black dress and high heels. You crossed your arms and legs, a small frown on your face.

“I’m sure. You’ve been wanting to go to Pieck’s party for a long time so you should go,” he said. “I just have too much work. I- my planning skills failed me,” Armin laughed softly.

“Can’t you do them when we get back? It’s the first party we’re attending with Eren. You know since…” you made a funny face, making you both laugh. “It was supposed to be fun for the three of us.”

Your boyfriend walked from his desk to his bed and cupped your face tenderly, thumb brushing against your pouting lip.

“Have fun for me,” he said, your frown deepening. “You look really, really beautiful, though.”

“How beautiful?” you teased him, leaning your head against his palm.

“Enough that I’m having a hard time telling you to go instead of staying here with me,” Armin replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“C’mon. Tomorrow morning I submit my last paper and we can have lunch and then watch some movies together,” he offered.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he smiled. You grinned and grabbed his face, placing a lot of small, chaste kisses on his lips, loving the way he giggled at your action. “Go have fun, I promise I’ll come with you to the next one.”

“Not the same without you though,” you reminded him, pulling away and lacing your pinky fingers together.

“Yeah, but Eren’s going, right? You can have fun with him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up at him. “Fun?”

“You know, uh- fun ,” he shrugged, a light blush covering his cheeks as he put his hands inside his pockets. It took you a couple of seconds to understand what he was implying.

“ Oh , okay,” you said, nodding your head softly. “Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s him, so,” Armin shrugged. You nodded and took his hand to your mouth, placing a kiss on his knuckles. “Still gonna miss you, though.”

Armin smiled, pulling you closer for one last kiss before you left his dorm.

• • •

Pieck’s parties were always a huge success. She only used to throw them twice a year and maybe that’s why they were so special. Everyone sent some money to her and she would make sure to buy enough alcohol and weed to keep everyone satisfied the rest of the night. A part of you thought it was almost impossible everyone’s donations could cover everything but Pieck always seemed more than pleased to put some of her own money for the party.

You had been friends with Pieck for quite some time now, hence why she let you bring some of your friends to the party. Last year you had brought Jean and Armin with you, which led to Jean and Pieck to start dating. You liked how good they looked with each other and that Jean had finally closed the Mikasa chapter and was trying something new. Pieck always seemed calm and collected, loving to nuzzle on Jean’s chest whenever they sat together. Nevertheless, you had also seen her break up a fight with her bare hands between two guys bigger than her. Since then you had a newfound respect and admiration for the brunette.

“Hey, where’s Armin?” Jean asked as he opened the door to let you and Eren inside.

“Got caught up with some projects,” you answered and Jean clicked his tongue. Eren and you took off your jackets and gave it to Jean for him to leave them in Pieck’s room.

“Sucks to be him. Porco and Reiner brought really good weed tonight,” he said as he made his way to the corridor.

Eren and you went to the living room, finding Pieck and her friends already starting with the bong. She complimented your dress and you grinned at her, spinning so she could see the back of it as well. After earning a couple of whistles from Pieck’s friends, you sat beside Eren.

“New dress?” he asked.

“Mmhm, bought it when Pieck said she was throwing another party,” you said. Eren laughed.

“I don’t know how you do this. I put on the first thing I saw in my closet,” he confessed and took the bong from Pieck. You took a moment to eye his black shirt and dark jeans.

“You don’t look so bad,” you commented, shrugging as Eren took a hit. “Is it really good?” you asked.

He hummed. “Want some?”

“I’d rather drink tonight. And last time I mixed weed and rum-”

“Yeah, I remember you sitting by the window with lost eyes like you were in another dimension” Eren chuckled, taking another hit. You hit him with one of the pillows to which he laughed harder.

Ever since the first time you had kissed him, Eren had made sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable around him. He behaved the same way he always did whenever he wasn’t thrusting inside of you as Armin stroked himself.  Somehow it was really comfortable to know your friendship wasn’t in danger, that even if it had shifted to something entirely different he still found it in him to playfully nudge you during class or let you copy his notes if you shared a class.

One hour later, Pieck’s place was packed with people. The music was loud, big speakers filling the apartment as people danced around. Pieck had set a table only for booze and you couldn’t count all the bottles even if you tried. Whiskey, vodka, rum and cans of beer were on display for anyone to take and even if everyone already looked more than a bit tipsy, there was still alcohol to spare.

You watched amused as Eren played beer pong with Reiner, the cups filled with one shot of vodka instead of beer. Reiner won by a very short difference, which made Eren call a rematch, which he finally won. You played your own match with Porco but with beer, winning the match on your first try and making sure to remind him every chance you got the rest of the night, laughing at his pouty face. After dancing with some of your friends, you spotted Eren sitting on one of the sofas and went to sit next to him, asking how he was doing. Even if he swore he was okay, you noticed his head slightly swaying. You suggested dancing it off.

Next thing you knew, one of Eren’s hands was set on your hip as the other was placed on the small of your back, while you had your arms around his neck. The way his hips moving filling your mind with ideas of you riding him, his cock deep inside you as he grabbed your hair in his fist. Your eyes locked on his green ones for one moment before quickly shifting your gaze anywhere else but him. Even if you knew that if you were to make an advance he would be more than willing, you kept repeating to yourself that you weren’t alone. Pieck’s entire apartment was filled with people that knew you were Armin’s girlfriend. Honestly, most of them would take a second look if they saw how close Eren and you were dancing

Eren’s thigh moved forward until they were between your legs, your hips moving on their own against him. You cursed under your breath and then let out a small chuckle, looking back at your friend.

“You’re such an asshole,” you said. Eren raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Am I?”

Before you could reply, Eren had taken both of your hands and in a swift movement, made you spin until your back was against his chest. Not letting go of your hands, he placed them on top of your hips, pulling your ass against his crotch as he kept moving his hips to the beat of the song.

You felt as if every vodka shot you had taken with Pieck had gone straight to your head at once.

“Keep dancing,” Eren whispered against your ear, his voice sending bolts of pleasure directly between your legs.

Moving your hips to the music, you tried to focus on anything other than Eren’s semi-hard cock grinding against your ass. You looked around, afraid someone was going to notice but everyone seemed to be occupied on their own. You noticed Pieck straddling Jean on the couch as she danced on top of him, some other couples making out against the walls or dancing even more lavishly than you and Eren were. Still, you felt your knees getting weaker as you kept feeling his breath against your neck.

You arched your back and started throwing your hips back, your ass bouncing against Eren’s crotch along with the beat of the music. You felt his hands tensing over yours, grabbing your hips much harder as you danced.

Maybe nothing else would have happened if you hadn’t looked over your shoulder. Maybe someone would have whistled and you would have been brought to reality, remembering what everyone thought your status was and how inappropriate they were acting. But you did look over your shoulder, eyes locking for a couple of seconds with Eren, which was more than enough for him to drag you to one of the bathrooms and locking the door behind you.

Eren kissed you roughly as your back hit the bathroom sink, his hands roaming around your body.

“Wait, fuck- can we- is it okay if he?” he tried to ask in between the kiss, his body and mind colliding against each other.

“Yeah,” you said breathless, running up your hands across his back. “He said it was fine.”

That was all Eren needed for his hands to travel up your legs and underneath your small dress. He tugged on your panties and lowered them to the ground and you stepped away, letting him pick them up and storing them in his back pocket. He stood up again, his lips colliding with yours as he grabbed the back of your thighs, helping you get on the counter. His mouth travelled down your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses until they reached the mount of your breasts, pressing his face against them and nipping on the skin gently, making sure not to leave marks.

He started lowering, kissing your stomach over your dress with his green eyes on yours as he sunk to his knees. His fingers trailed your skin from your ankles up to your thighs, spreading your legs apart gently until your pussy was in front of him. You looked at him, chest rising up and down from your ragged breathing as you watched him leave small kisses on the inside of your thighs.

“Only fair you get to come on my face this time,” he said. Not even the music outside the bathroom was loud enough for you not to hear him clearly, your legs twitching at his words. He smirked and pulled your legs apart wider as he trailed up a slow path of small kisses to your pussy.

As soon as he pressed his lips against your folds, both you and him noticed how wet you were. He hummed, the vibration of his voice making you breathe heavily, biting back a moan. Eren licked across your slit, collecting all your wetness with his tongue. It was the first time he was going down on you and damn if you weren’t already lightheaded. Plus, the fact you were doing it in your friend’s bathroom with everyone outside added a sultry element you seemed to enjoy.

Eren placed his mouth on you again, his tongue drawing teasing circles around your clit. You whimpered, your hand going to tangle on his hair, messy bun a bit dishevelled. He groaned against you, loving every time you pulled his locks and used the flat part of his tongue on your clit, earning new moans from you. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder as he pushed the other one a little further apart, his mouth still moving on you.

He sucked gently on your clit and you threw your head back, hitting yourself with the mirror.

“Fuck-- Eren, please ,” you panted, your hips bucking against his face. Eren dug his fingers on the plush of your thighs as he kept moving his tongue, getting you closer and closer to your limit.

Eren began lapping exactly where you needed him, a hand shooting to your mouth to muffle your sounds as you whined. Your other hand tightened its hold on Eren’s hair. He let you keep his head in place as you rolled your hips against his face, setting your own rhythm as he saw you search for your high. As soon as he noticed your hips stuttering, its movements desperate, he grabbed your legs still again, his tongue directly playing with your clit.

You came on his mouth, a hand over your own as you tried your best not to make too much noise. Eren stayed a couple of moments after your orgasm, giving your pussy slow, delicate licks to help you ride your orgasm off.

“Told ya’ I owed you,” he huffed playfully, making you remember what he had told you after the first time you had given him head. You chuckled as he stood up, kissing you languidly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, your body reacting to him as if you couldn’t do anything else but press yourself against him.

Your hands started unbuttoning his shirt as he kissed your neck. Long ago you had come up with the rule of not leaving any marks on your skin. As much as you loved finding bruises and love bites whenever you were showering, you preferred that to be a thing just between Armin and you. Since you had made that request, Eren had been extremely gentle whenever he kissed your skin, letting his lips drag across your skin teasingly before placing a soft kiss.

“How do you like it?” he asked.

“Huh?” you asked, letting his shirt fall to the floor, your hands caressing his toned chest.

“Well, this is a fantasy,” he said, pulling away so he could look at your face, his lips brushing against yours. “So I want to make you feel good.”

Eren didn’t miss the way your legs clenched on either side of his waist. He went back to kissing the other side of your neck as you made up your mind, hands roaming around his back and hair as he did so.

He didn’t have to wait long for your answer.

“I want you to be rough with me,” you sighed. Eren pulled away once more and looked at you, one of his hands palming your breast.

“How rough?”

“Until I tell you to stop,” you breathed out, your back arching at his ministrations. Eren nodded and kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you once again started losing focus of everyone that was happening.

In that moment, your mind was filled with his hand playing with your tits while the other one went back to your folds, his index and middle finger rubbing soft circles, making you moan against your mouth. Eren pulled away from you and you watched him take out his wallet and then a condom from it. He put it between his teeth and then undid his jeans, letting them fall to his ankles along with his underwear.

You could never get used to seeing Eren’s cock. A part of your brain still was shocked as you tried to remember this was your new normal, getting railed by your friend with your boyfriend’s permission. Your hand closed around his length and you started pumping him, his tip already leaking precum. Eren ripped the condom package and rolled it over himself all the way to the base.

You leaned over to kiss him again, this time his lips moving rougher on you. You tried locking your legs around his waist, wanting to feel his cock against you. Instead, Eren grabbed both your legs and yanked you down the counter and onto the floor. You stumbled a bit on your high heels but he quickly turned you around and bent you over the bathroom sink.

Eren lifted your dress until it was resting on your waist, your ass exposed to him. He parted your legs with his foot and then lined up his cock with your entrance. Only a couple of inches inside you was enough for you to let out a high-pitched moan, your hands grabbing on the faucet desperately, the stretch making your head spin.

A hard slap fell against your ass.

“Keep it the fuck down. Do you want everyone to know your boyfriend’s friend has his cock inside you?” he hissed. The determination of his voice made you clench around him. Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your hair up, forcing you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

You watched your eyes and parted lips as Eren kept pushing inside of you, a whimper escaping your lips once he bottomed out. He took your hands and put them against the mirror. His own hands slid down your back until they settled on your hips. He started thrusting against you, your breath creating a fog on the mirror in front of you. You let your head fall, biting your lip as he kept moving his hips.

One of Eren’s hands went to your jaw, making you look at yourself in the mirror once more. You could not only see your face flushed with desire but also how his hair was almost completely loose and falling over his forehead as he kept thrusting against you.

“Look at yourself. You love being fucked as a slut, don’t you?”

Once again his words stirred something deep inside you. You desperately tried to hold on to something, your hands sliding down against the mirror until you positioned them correctly again. Eren smacked your ass hard again.

“I asked a fucking question,” he grunted, giving a particularly harsh thrust.

“Yes- fuck, yes, I do,” you panted. Eren picked up his face and you felt your legs falter. “Keep going, please.”

His hand went back to holding your head up by your hair, the other one gripping your ass firmly. Eren’s grunts were barely audible due to the music outside but made you melt every time you heard them. You started moving your hips back, meeting his thrusts as you did your best not to make too much noise.

Eren slapped your ass again, making you clench against him. He threw his head back, cursing under his breath and let his hand fall on your ass once more. Only a couple more thrusts were needed for you to come around him as well, one of your hands flying to your mouth to try and muffle your loud moans.

You heard Eren curse again and fasten his pace, letting go of your hair and settling both his hands on your hips. His orgasm followed a few moments later and you heard him groan, his cock twitching inside of you. You squeezed him as he came down from his high, earning a soft chuckle from the man behind you.

“Stop, I literally have nothing left,” he joked, removing himself from you and discarding the condom in the bathroom bin.

You laughed along as he helped you stand up again, lowering your dress in the process. Thanking him, you looked at your reflection again, cleaning the eyeliner smudge on the outside corner of your eyes and fixing your hair. Eren pulled up his underwear and pants and once his clothes were back in place, he handed you your panties that he had put inside his pockets.

“I can’t come out of this bathroom holding my panties,” you reminded him with a soft laugh. “Can you like- keep them for a moment? Once we leave this place you can hand them back.”

“Sure, sure,” Eren said, putting your panties back in his pocket. You looked at each other in the eyes and couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.

“I’ll leave first, wait a bit before going outside,” you instructed him and Eren nodded, leaning against the counter and taking out his phone to keep himself distracted as he waited.

Nobody noticed you leaving the bathroom, nor the funny way you were walking. You grabbed one of the beers from the table and plopped on one of the sofas. You observed your surroundings and wondered if time had really passed as everything seemed to be the same. Jean and Pieck were now making out in the same sofa she had been dancing on and nobody spared a second glance at you.

You felt someone sitting down next to you, opening a can of beer as well. You turned to the side and saw Eren, his hair tied on a half-bun again and looking visibly refreshed. His eyes locked with yours and he smirked.

You clinked your beer cans. You sure knew how to keep a secret.

[bubbledumbbinch]

Hi, there! I'm new here! Can I get the dorm leaders' (including Jamil's) reaction to their fem! s/o who suddenly passes out due to stress and when she wakes up, she tearfully confesses that she was traumatized by their Overblots. What can they do to comfort her? Fluff/angst combo. Please and thanks!

Yes yes! I will only be including the people who have overblotted so far so no Ignihyde or Diasomnia yet!

I also am sorry I just didn’t want to make s/o faint in all scenarios? I did in most tho!! Sorry >< I hope this is okay!!

Also also, sorry I haven’t posted in SO long!! I just came back from 2 vacations including a week long trip to Disney world!!

Warnings: angst, spoilers for everyone’s chapters I guess?

Riddle Rosehearts

In the following weeks of Riddle’s overblot, he was working to try to be a better leader to Heartslabyul. However, old habits don’t die very easily. You saw Riddle’s wrath once again when he scolded some students who had gotten into a fight and had promptly used his unique magic.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!” His voice resounded off the walls and the harshness of his voice brought awful flashbacks into your mind. Then, everything went black.

When you wake, Riddle is over your body, his large grey eyes were scanning over you panicked. When he asked what happened, you broke down and told him that you remembered his overblot and fainted.

Riddle’s guilt would skyrocket. He never intended to hurt so many people including one of his closest friends Trey and especially not you. Even after a few weeks he didn’t realize it would weigh so much on so many others.

Riddle would turn red from shame while hiding his face in the crook of your neck. As he starts to chant “I’m sorry”s over and over, he starts to sob shakily, also making you start to release the tears that were in your eyes.

Riddle takes care of you personally - brings you to bed, attempts to cooks for you, studies with you, anything he can do to gain your trust back.

“I- I’ll be better. A better person. For you, for everybody in Heartslabyul, for me.” Riddle was hiccuping from crying. You kissed Riddle’s cheek and stroked it, trying to wipe his tears from his face. “I know, Riddle. I can see you trying every day and you’re getting better and better.” It was true. You personally saw him interacting with students and knew his relationship with everyone was improving. With time, things will get a lot easier to process emotions and the feelings from that eventful day.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona’s practice session for Magift wasn’t going as planned. You noticed he was getting angrier and angrier with his poor plays while sitting on the sidelines.

When he finally had enough he grabbed the disc and turned it into sand, growling in anger. He shouted at his teammates and physically threatened them.

You felt your heart stop as your boyfriend continued to scream. The last thing you saw before falling was Epel’s shocked face as you hit the ground.

When you woke up, the team members were all circled around you, only to be scared away by Leona’s growling.

When you admitted you had PTSD from his overblot, he looked away in shame. The beastman didn’t say much - it’s not like he COULD say anything. He knew he was wrong at that moment but he was only frustrated at the game.

Leona tries to spend more time with you by pulling you into his arms when he naps. He mumbles softly about being sorry and telling you he loves you. You know that it’s a lot for him to even do that, so it means a lot to you.

As Leona held you in his arms, you couldn’t help but tighten your arm’s grip on his. “My little herbivore… I’m sorry..” It was a whisper. Almost quiet enough to the point of you not hearing it. Soon after, the soft rise and fall of his chest indicated he was asleep. Leona’s pride was high. He never expressed his feelings through words - but feeling his arms embrace you protectively, you knew how sorry he was and how regretful he was to make you feel so upset.

Azul Ashengrotto

It had been a few months since you’d seen Azul overblot. You figured everything had gone back to normal - you were dating steadily, which was going well, and Azul treated you well.

One day though, he lost his control. Under his own stress and when his business affairs weren’t going as well as planned, he blew up and you heard him scream at someone from the outside the VIP room - all too familiar to the yelling he did when he overblotted.

You felt stuck - your feet were planted outside of his office and your nerves got the better of your motor functions. You knew you loved Azul but that moment when you saw his insecurities and too much power getting a hold of him, you were truly scared. You barely remember registering any memories as things started to fade.

“Shrimpy wake up!!” You were suddenly being shaken about, earning a gasp from you. Azul sighed next to Floyd and Jade. He asked you what had happened - he found you outside his office in a daze.

Once you truthfully told him about your memories of his overblot his expression fell. Azul was emotional and his feelings of rejection would flare up. You would need to tell him you still love him because something in him will tell him you don’t.

Azul spoils you a bit and makes sure you are not present or in the area, working in the lounge only when he isn’t dealing with complicated contracts.

Azul is also happy you weren’t traumatized due to the fact you saw his octopus form - he was very worried about that possibility.

“Angelfish, tell me, what is it you want? Anything, I’ll give it to you, please just forgive me…” Azul tearfully grasped your hands in his, glasses fogging up. It was seldom at times you saw Azul break his smile. “A-Azul, you can’t just give me something to make me forget. I need to process this and I wouldn’t be surprised if other people need to, as well. Just… be there for me.” You spoke, rubbing his cheek with your thumb as your hand cupped his face. Azul freely let his tears run down his face. “Of course, angelfish. I promise.”

Jamil Viper

You were simply looking over at the view of the desert sand from the common room of Scarabia. It wasn’t long after Jamil’s overblot.

Things have changed in the dynamic of the dorm - him and Kalim were closer now that suppressed feelings could be free, Jamil gained the trust back from most if not all the members, and you both started dating.

The more you stared into the distance, the more it reminded you of that fateful day. Visions of the dark red stormy sky invaded your thoughts while you swore you could hear Jamil’s sinister laughter growing louder and louder.

Memories being hurled from the dorm to the cold desert sand invaded your senses as you fell to the ground.

When you opened your eyes, you flinched back when you saw Jamil so close to you, making his eyes look hurt. Jamil would surround you with soft pillows and a silk sheet he must have borrowed from Kalim.

Once he finally pries your feelings out of you after you don’t want to tell him the truth, Jamil looks pained. He didn’t want to hurt you.

Jamil would give you time to think, knowing how much alone time is valued. Whether you want him to give you space or spend time with him is up to you.

“I’m, I’m sorry, y/n…” his eyes dropped to look at the floor, ashamed. “I’ll give you some time alone to think about our relationship, if that’s what you want.” The weight he added to the bed was lifted as the raven haired boy started to walk away. “No, Jamil, please stay with me.” Your voice seemed to shock him. He turned and looked at you, surprised. “I like you for you. I know you were having a hard time, and it was scary for you too. We can get stronger together! So please… don’t leave me.” You pleaded, cursing your voice for sounding weaker than you intended. Jamil’s brown eyes softened and a smile, a genuine one at that, made its way to his face.

Vil Schoenheit

Surprise surprise, Vil was checking the internet search results to see who the most beautiful one of all was. Vil had recently shot a movie and the trailer had come out an hour prior.

When the phone had still said the name he dreaded, he threw his phone down in frustration, making you flinch. He didn’t even know you were in the vicinity, you were in the hallway looking into his room as his back faced you in his room.

When you spoke his name softly, he replied callously in his response, making you freeze. His demeanor was mean to say the least, his eyes looked tired and he just looked angry.

It reminded you all too much of his overblot, which happened a few weeks back. You slowly backed into a wall and started to whimper.

Vil would realize his errors quickly and come running to your aid. He coos and strokes your hair, telling you he was sorry for lashing out. When you tell him it reminded you of his overblot, guilt racks through him.

Vil hugs you tightly and apologizes over and over. He would definitely be one to spend an entire day devoted to spoiling you, taking you to your favorite restaurant, giving you personalized facials, and shopping with you.

Vil knows this won’t resolve the issue, but he’s going to let you know how much you mean to him and how sorry he is, over time.

Vil looked over your shaking form with trembling hands. His soft, slender hands came to grasp your own. “Y/N, Y/N please answer me..!” You could only look away. “Vil, it reminded me of your… your overblot! I’m sorry…” your tears flowed freely now, staining your cheeks. You always thought you looked ugly when you cried so this only felt like salt in the wound. When Vil looked at you now, his eyes were looking into yours, deeper into you than what you physically offered. “I… that must have been scary for you, Y/N. I’m truly, so sorry. You had to see an ugly side of me that I never want to come out again.”

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[moralesispunk]

Chapter One - Leaping the Wall

Gif credit @padfootwantsatummyrub​

Masterlist / Next chapter

Summary: You have never struggled with playing the role of a Princess before, walking with your head held high and able to talk to anyone placed in front of you. However, as you walk into the Great Hall and your eyes fall upon a mysterious guard you find yourself forgetting how to do both.

Warnings: none but this (along with the rest of my blog) is 18+

Words count: 3.8k (a shorter chapter to start with!)

A/N: a few of you on the Pero tag from the last fic asked to be moved across to this new fic but if you would like removed just let me know!

The King's hall was the grandest of all the rooms in the castle. Not only was it the largest, fit for balls that could host every lord and lady, baker and blacksmith, farmer and priest in the land, it was also decorated with the shiniest of golds and richest of reds.

With every step you took towards the the platform at the back wall, your shoes clicked loudly from echoing around the room. Your father was sat on the large throne, well suited to the chair that loomed over the rest of the room, sitting tall and confident as he gazed down at you and your brothers.

You had practiced your walk in this room since taking your first steps while your father gave advice to the people of the kingdom. You would come here at least once a week as a young girl, walking the length of the room over and over again as your Lady-in-waiting called to tilt your chin higher and hold your shoulders back further.

You had never understood why your father had wasted so many breaths on telling you that one of the most important things a Princess had to learn was a commanding walk; rolling your eyes as he told your Lady-in-waiting to have you practice another hour. It wasn’t until this very moment when you caught the attention of one of the guards that you were glad for all the hours spent holding your head high. You could feel his eyes on you more than any other in the room, as though his gaze sent a warmth straight to your chest. No matter how hard you forced your eyes to stay forward on your father you could not stop your head from turning towards the guard as he stood behind the throne.

He was a tall man with a chest covered in metal chainlink armour and legs hidden by dark leather trousers. He was the most intimidating man your eyes had ever seen, his hand resting on a sword by his side and eyes following your every movement. His eyes were dark, darker than the jet black hair that covered his head and was scattered across his face in a full moustache and stubble around his jaw. However, his most prominent feature was not his dark eyes or wicked scowl or even his nose that seemed to be carved from the very same stone that built the castle walls but the scar that ran down his left eye. It was a pale pink, weathered and no longer a fresh scar, but it still stood out against his tanned skin.

You almost lost your footing as you kept your eyes on his, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof that he was in fact a man and not a statue of a brave warrior.

When you reached the front of the throne you stopped and forced your eyes towards your father, bending one leg behind the other before you gently curtsied. Awaiting the wave of his hand you felt your breathing get heavier as your head was bent towards the ground, feeling the guard's eyes still on you and burying holes into the back of your neck. You father called your name and you stood back up, taking all your energy to force your eyes towards your father.

"Richard, Robert, you too," he called to your little brothers, although you were not sure you could still call them that as they stood much taller than you did now, "I wish for you to meet my new guards in light of the growing threat against Scotiae. William Garin of Ireland and Pero Tovar of Spain."

Pero.

The Irishman, William, bowed his head to you and your brothers before offering a playful wink and smile as he did so. The Spaniard did not move, his eyes staying on you as your father's hand waved towards him during the introductions.

"Should you have any worries about your protection, you can go to them. Richard, Robert, you are free to go, I have something to talk to your sister about in private." 

Your brothers bowed again, a politeness only used in the presence of others. Behind closed doors your family differed from many other Royal families, especially since your mother had passed. You would hug and tell one another you loved each other. Your father would also let you sit in on your brother’s sword and archery lessons and made them go to your ballroom dancing lessons. He told you that as the eldest you had to know just as much as the men who ran the other Kingdoms and he would smirk at the reaction of whatever Lord was quickly shot down by your quick wit or battle tactics when they dared question them. 

The other guards, minus Pero and William, left the room with your brothers. Once the large wooden doors at the front of the hall finally closed your shoulders relaxed and you ran up towards the stage.

"Papa," you quietly cheered as he stood and hugged you in his arms, "how was the hunt?" you asked as you pulled away.

"Magnificent," he sighed, sitting back in his throne while holding your hand as you stood in front of him, "the butchers seemed happy with the catch, we should only need another one before Winter comes."

"Good. So, you had something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Yes," he sighed, his free hand reaching up to squeeze his nose between his eyes for a moment, "I am not getting any younger, this hunt proved far more difficult than any I have been on before. I do not want to leave you without a husband."

"Papa," you sighed, letting go of his hand and turning to face out into the hall so to avoid his gaze, "I do not want to be set up with some Lord I have never met who only wishes to marry me to rule this land. I want to marry for love, like you and Mother."

"Not everyone can be as lucky as we were, you are getting older and-"

"And what? A Lord will not want to marry me in another year? In five? I am not that old Papa," you rolled your eyes as you turned back to face him.

"Older than most other unmarried woman in this land," he pointed out.

"Yes but I am fortunate in that I do not need to marry for stability. I wish everyone could marry for love but if I am one of the lucky few who has that luxury would it not be foolish of me not to take that chance," you raised you eyebrows towards him.

You could not ignore the way the William was clearly enjoying the back and forth between you and your father as his eyes flashed between you both. You sent a wink his way and earned a chuckle in response before your eyes moved over to Pero. His face was not as light, the scowl still covering his face as he watched the conversation and it only hardened when he noticed the wink you sent his partner.

"Mr Garin, would you not agree with your King," your father looked over his shoulder.

"I certainly would not disagree with him, Your Highness," he bowed his head slightly, "but to marry for love, well… that is a luxury I would not pass up either."

Pero shot William a look you could not quite make out as William stood back to his position and you looked at your father.

"Give me one year, Papa, and then we can discuss again," you said, making a point of not promising anything more than revisiting this conversation.

"You are just like your mother," your father laughed before standing and bringing you into another hug, "I won’t be at dinner tonight, just you and your brothers."

"Of course Papa," you hugged back before walking back down to the main floor, "goodbye Mr Garin, Mr Tovar," you nodded back to the two men before walking off the platform.

As you walked out of the hall, the back of your neck burned as though a candle was being held near the skin. You tried to keep your head up and back straight but you could not stop the way your knees felt weaker with every step. You wished to find out more about the new, mysterious guard who had so little to say.

As you pushed the heavy wooden door open, you heard it knock against something followed by two muffled groans.

"Could you two be any more nosy," you put your hands out to help them both back to their feet.

"Father is worried you are going to become a spinster," Richard joked as he stood up fully.

"If I were you I would be worried that as soon as I am married he will be working on setting you two up next," you started walking down the hall.

"Well, we still have at least a year to worry about that, let's hope you manage to get someone to fall in love with you by then," your youngest brother Robert teased and you punched his arm, "More pressing, the two new guards? Perfect opportunity for a sneak out tonight," he rubbed his arm.

"You in?" Richard turned to you.

"Do I ever say no?" you laughed before the three of you reached the split in the hall.

You headed down to your quarters, your mind drifting back to Pero as you walked through the long hall. There was something about him but you weren't quite sure what. His friend - or partner - seemed friendly, objectively attractive and a little flirty, but Pero. He was border-line rude, rough around the edges, stared straight into your soul without so much as blinking, but you could not stop the attraction to him. There was something tying you to him from the moment you walked into the hall.

As you walked into your chamber, your lady-in-waiting Maria was filling your bath with hot water from the pot over the fire. Your chamber was lighter than all the other rooms in the castle, most of them covered in deep reds and purples. However, as you were scared of the dark when a little girl your father had your walls painted white, having the gold mirrors and wooden furniture as decoration letting the moon light up the room more.

"I heard your father has two new guards?" Maria's voice called from the fire.

"News travels fast," you laughed as you sat on the edge of your bed.

"Handsome?"

"One is definitely your type, from Ireland I think my father said," you giggled and lay back on the bed, letting your legs dangle off the side.

"An Irishman," she sighed, reaching for your hands and helping you stand to untie the back of your dress and corset, "and the other?"

"He's- he’s-"

"You're blushing!" she turned you to face her.

"I am not," you gasped as you stepped out of your skirts, "he was very handsome. Intimidating and has a scar down one eye," you traced over your own eye to show Maria where it was, "but very-"

"Handsome, you said" she laughed, helping you in to the bath.

The water splashed over the edge as your sank your body down to the bottom, letting the water that was borderline too hot wash over your skin. You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing as the warmth enveloped you as it washed the day away. 

"Enough about the new guards. My brothers are planning to sneak out and go to the Inn tonight, will you join?" you leaned your arms on the side of the tub to look up at Maria.

"I heard the sailors have docked for the night," Maria tilted your head back and poured the water over your hair, running her fingers through your locks to untangle any knots.

"So, that is a..?" you trailed off.

"Yes!" she laughed and your shoulders shook.

"My father is retiring to his chambers early. We can leave as soon as the sun sets," you closed your eyes and began to drag a soap soaked cloth over your body.

After looking our your clothes, finding a white and grey dress that came to your mid-calf and tying your hair back in a cloth, you sighed as you sat on your bed to slip your feet into thick socks and boots. You knew you were lucky, the colourful wardrobe in the corner of the room one that many women dreamed of owning. It was full of dresses in all colours - from bright blues to deep purples, dark greens to rich reds. As you sat on the edge of the bed in clothes much plainer and more comfortable, you let your body stretch out without the usual restriction you suffered.

"So much easier to sit and breathe without the tightest corset on," you sighed.

"Oh the pain of a princess," Maria laughed and pulled you to your feet, "where are your brother's eating tonight?"

"Probably stealing from the kitchen before it reaches my father's chambers," you steered Maria out of your room and towards the kitchen, knowing you were going in the right direction when you heard your brother's laughs and the shouts from Mrs Berry the cook who was no doubt chasing them around the kitchen.

"Aren't you a bit old to be acting like this," you said as you opened the doors to the kitchen.

"Mrs Berry loves it," Richard replied, hopping up on the counter with a bowl of stew in his hand.

"Keeps her entertained," Robert finished, jumping up next to him.

"You're lucky I love you kids. There are two more bowls up there, and if you wash them once you're finished I won't tell your father I seen you," Mrs Berry winked at you.

"Thank you," the four of you called back as she carried a tray out of the kitchen, full of food most likely for your father.

"So, did she tell you about the new guards," Richard turned to Maria.

"Yes, she told me a little about the Irish one and a lot about the Spaniard," Maria laughed as she spooned some stew into her mouth, making you roll your eyes.

"William and Pero," you corrected her.

"I wouldn't mind being caught sneaking out by William but I think Pero would stab me," Robert laughed.

"Are we done now?" you interrupted, pulling a cloak over your dress as you walked to the back door, ignoring the teasing that came from behind you as you walked into the cool Autumn eve.

Sneaking out was easiest through the kitchen, the walls not as guarded at this side of the castle to make it easy for the staff to come and go. You and your brothers learned this in your early years of sneaking out, getting caught many a time trying to run behind a cart through the main gates before quickly being dragged back in by the ears. Outside the kitchen, there was only a small wall to climb before you reached the streets of the Kingdom. 

Richard and Robert helped you and Maria over, letting you stand on their bent knees before swinging your legs over, before pulling themselves up to follow once you were safely down on the other side. You held the cloak that bit tighter around you as you weaved through the streets towards the Inn, the wind whistling down the narrow streets. Maria ran up beside you and linked your arms as Robert and Richard followed closely.

"Wonder if the sailors are there yet," her eyes lit up as the Inn came into sight.

"Sounds like it," you laughed as the shouting and singing poured into the street when the Inn door opened ahead.

You ran up to catch the door before it closed again and were glad to spot a free table near the back. You and Maria moved through the busy floor, apologising for every drink you almost knocked or toe you stepped on, while your brother's went to the bar. With the many bodies and candles to light the room it was a lot warmer in here than in the cold streets and so you quickly shrugged the cloak off your shoulders, taking Maria's as well and hanging them up on the hooks behind you.

While waiting on your brother's to bring back some drinks, you and Maria scanned the room looking at the visitors to the city. Your eyes landed on two bodies in the corner, wearing much darker clothes than the rest of the sailors. You squirmed in your seat to get a better look and soon noticed the familiar scar that ran down one of the men's faces.

"Shit," you hissed, turning your face away from them.

"What?"

"William and Pero, my father's new guards, at the bar," you explained.

Maria sat up taller in her seat, searching for them as you cowered lower.

"The blonde one is my type," she laughed, turning back to you.

You noticed your brothers walking back to the table and quickly pulled them down to the two other seats facing away from William and Pero.

"Wha-"

"Your father's guards," Maria explained, nodding towards the bar.

"Just our luck," Richard sighed handing the beers to you and Maria.

The four of you decided to stay, hoping they wouldn’t see you amongst the busy bar. After a few sips of beer, the others were soon forgetting about your father's guards and their laughs began to grow louder and louder, rivalling the many sailors in the room. You couldn't quite concentrate on their conversation as Robert and Richard bickered about which one of them the barmaid had been flirting with. Instead, your mind wandered back to Pero at the bar with your eyes looking up to search for him every other second.

He sat scowling at the bar and you began to wonder whether his face knew how to make any other expression. Every so often, William laughed and patted Pero on the back and he would roll his eyes before taking another drink. You watched as his Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, finding your mouth getting dry and reaching for your own drink every time he did.

When you looked up at him this time, his head had already started to turn to look around the room. You couldn’t move your gaze away quick enough before his eyes landed on you. You were stuck, unable to peel your eyes away from his as you held your breath, waiting to see who would move first.

Pero did, but not before letting his eyes stare deep into yours without so much as blinking for a moment that went on forever while the buzz of the bar seemed to grow silent. He quickly stood from the bar, walking through the crowd while being followed by a questioning William before stopping in front of your table. His face was still covered in a scowl as he placed his beer on the table between your brothers.

"Shit," Richard breathed, looking up at Pero and William.

"Oh," William laughed, noticing why Pero had stood so suddenly from the bar, "sneaking out?" he pulled a chair round to sit next to Maria, grabbing another for Pero to sit by his other side… which was also happened to be by your side.

The four of you gave each other questioning glances for a moment, wondering why instead of throwing you and Maria over their shoulders and grabbing Robert and Richard with their free hand before bustling you back to the castle, the two guards had now joined you at the table. Before you could silently question any further, William introduced himself and Pero to Maria, Pero only giving a grunt and nod in her direction before looking back around the room.

The conversation went back to normal, you along with your brothers and Maria thankful that neither of the men had decided to drag you back to the castle just yet. The only ones not joining in the conversation were you and Pero. He didn't seem like the talking type and so appeared at peace sitting back and letting his eyes roam around the room but your voice had been lost, unable to even think about talking as you could feel the heat coming from him as your arms almost touched with how close your chairs were.

As you tried to steady your suddenly very shaky hands while reaching for your glass, a sailor wandered up to your table, stinking of ale and bumping into tables and chairs as he went. He tried for your attention as he placed a hand over yours and leaned down to whisper something in your ear that you didn't quite catch as you were too busy trying to ignore him. Pero looked around, his eyes catching yours again and noticing how you shuddered away from the sailor's touch.

"I think you should stop bothering the lady," Pero's voice was quiet but commanding as his eyes moved to the man next to you.

It was the first time you had heard his voice and even though it was harsh as he spat his words to the sailor, you were hanging off every word, wanting to hear him talk more to listen to the beauty he carried in each word.

"She doesn't have a problem with it, do you?" the man nudged your shoulder and you pulled away.

"You think that because she is too polite to say otherwise. I will only say it one more time, stop bothering the lady," Pero hissed.

The sailor pulled back, raising his hands in surrender as he walked away from the table. You watched him leave before turning to thank Pero but his head was already back facing straight ahead.

Not much later, Robert's head was nodding to sleep as he tried to finish the beer in his hand while Richard and Maria were talking far too loud for being in such a crowded space. You winced every time the barmaid turned her head towards your table, the last thing you wanted was to be thrown out and your father to put you and your brothers on night watch to stop from sneaking out again.

"How about we head back?" William said noticing your look, standing and grabbing your and Maria's coats from the hooks behind you.

"No," Maria moaned but still standing to let William place the cloak over her shoulders.

You let William move round the table and place a cloak over your own shoulders, thanking him with a nod before noticing how he looked at Pero while sending a wink your way. While Pero stood back and watched, his scowl looking that bit harsher now, as William managed to wrangle your two little brothers out of the Inn. The cold air whistled into the room as William opened the door, carting your brothers and Maria out before you and Pero walked behind the rest.

You tried to keep your head down and avoid Pero's eyes that were constantly moving back to you as you prayed that he wouldn’t tell your father about finding you tonight. Looked up, you found Maria leaning into William's side with their arms locked as she told a story about her mother loud enough for all the houses on the street to hear. You smiled and wrapped your cloak around you tighter but suddenly your foot caught on the uneven cobbles and you tripped forward. You couldn't unwrap your arms quick enough and so closed your eyes preparing to hit the hard concrete but the fall never came. Two strong hands were wrapped around your waist and held you from the ground, keeping you steady for a moment before lifting you back to full height.

No one else had noticed your trip, the group a lot further ahead as you opened your eyes with Pero was staring back at you, the scowl still firmly on his face as he looked down at you to make sure you hadn't been hurt.

"I-I," your words failed you again as you stared up at him and he rolled his eyes before letting you go.

"Be careful, Princesa," he tutted before marching on again.

It took you a moment to get your feet moving and as you waited you watched him get closer to joining the group. When he reached William you managed to find your voice, whispering a thank you into the air and hoping the wind would carry it far enough for him to hear. Just as you put your first foot forward, Pero’s head began to turn to look over his shoulder. His eyes caught yours and you swore they were lighter than before.

There were crinkles by the side of his eye and a dimple on his cheek next to where his lips had turned up to a small smile, but just as quick as it was there it was gone as he turned back to look at the street ahead.

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy

Pero tag // @bonktime @justpedropascal @coldlilheart @shadowolf993 @stylelovechild @frostsoldier @idreamofboobear @artsymaddie @ajeff855 @strangelittlenobody @elegantduckturtle @roxypeanut @shedobeclownin

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 9

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her new friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid. (Baby Spence)

pairing: Fem!OC x Spencer

word count: 4.1k

content warnings: tattooing/tattoo aftercare, mostly fluffy!

A/N: hi! it's been a while since i updated this series, but i love it too much to leave it behind and i'm also always going to be obsessed with sub!spence. anyway, all my tattoos are stick and pokes atm so if some of the tattoo stuff if a little off, i'm sorry!

masterlist

it's really a matter of principle that keeps me bound to the promise. if I were a weaker woman, I would back down from the chair, would have shaken my head and told JJ that no, actually, I will not be getting something permanently inked on my body purely for the fulfillment of a bet.

but with most of the team around me and a couple flutes of champagne flowing through my veins, I give in. it's going to be small, even though I'm not going to see it until it's done. Penelope and Morgan being in charge of the design scares me, though. I start to get nervous that I'm going to end up with a unicorn tramp stamp.

"where are you gonna get it?" Garcia nudges my shoulder once we get inside the tattoo parlor. her eyes are traveling over all the intense artwork, which I can already tell is very much not her style. the walls are covered in intricate prints from past customers.

I think to myself for a moment. if I'm being completely honest, there's one place I've been meaning to get a tattoo, but never have. it's easy to hide, which is good. as long as the design they choose isn't horrifically embarrassing, I'll do it.

"I'm thinking..." I pull the waistband of my jeans down a little until it's right below my hip bone. "there."

"sexy." she says suggestively. I laugh.

"depending on what you guys have decided to give me, yeah." I angle for a hint, but Penny isn't caving.

"are you ready?" Morgan asks, having returned from the front desk area, where he's been talking to the artist. I take a deep breath, peer around at the rest of the team. we look like an odd bunch in here, an assortment of ages all gathered in a dark tattoo parlor.

Spencer's watching me with a concerned expression and I realize that I've been staring around for a decent amount of time. he doesn't say anything, although I've noticed that he's got a certain face he makes right before he does-- and he's making it.

"Clea, are you sure you wanna do this? you don't have to." JJ touches my shoulder suddenly. I realize that they think I'm genuinely worried and I let out a laugh.

"yeah, I'm fine," I turn to Morgan. "lead the way, handsome."

the tattoo artist has me lie down while he preps all his tools, snaps on his gloves. everyone sees me on my stomach and Emily gasps.

"are you getting a tramp stamp?"

"what? no," I giggle. "I'm gonna get it here." I show them the spot I just showed Penelope, and Spencer raises his eyebrows. Prentiss whispers something in Morgan's ear and the suave agent smirks.

"you're gonna like this." Penny grins. I glance at the tattoo artist to see how he reacts to that statement, but he's got a good poker face, unfortunately.

"are you being serious or are am I gonna hate all of you?" I ask.

"maybe a bit of both?" Spencer says in a slightly higher pitch, looking pleased to be in on the joke. I stare at him in disbelief.

"he knows what I'm getting, too?" I point disdainfully. Morgan laughs at the attitude.

"I told him on the way here."

I shake my head slowly and turn my attention to the boy genius, who is hiding a proud smile. there's a boyish quality to it that makes me feel a little better. I have to pull the side of my pants down as I turn on my side for the artist, and a peek of my black underwear makes Prentiss let out a whistling noise. my cheeks turn pink.

"shut up."

"are you ready?" the tattoo guy asks me. it's only then that I notice we're close to actually getting this done. I have no idea what's going on my body-- but there's no time like the present, right?

"sure."

it's the buzzing of the machine when he finally touches the needle to my skin that surprises me more than the pain itself. I feel myself resist the urge to move away, but I'm still enough for him to keep working.

"how's it feel?" Emily asks.

"like getting a tattoo." I wince. Penelope softens, looking between her coworkers guiltily.

"oh no," she complains, then comes over to me and grabs my hand in hers. "is this better?"

I squeeze tightly at the stinging sensation across my thigh, but she doesn't pull away at all.

"yeah." I smile. everyone is watching me intently, so much so that it puts me off a bit. "can we talk about something, maybe? it doesn't help when you're all staring."

"sure," JJ grins. "so..."

the pressure to start a conversation kills any potential for one, and then Spencer clears his throat. "anybody wanna see a cool magic trick?"

I snort and the rest of the team lets out a chuckle as the genius pulls a deck of cards out of his pants pocket. Morgan pats his shoulder. "I hope it works this time."

"it worked last time!" Reid protests, but his cheeks have taken on a slightly rosy hue. I watch him shuffle the mysterious deck and do some fancy tricks that I've never seen before, the corner of his mouth quirking with a sudden air of confidence.

Penelope is still holding my hand, and I can feel the metal of her sparkly rings pressing against my fingers. I choose to focus on the theatrical movements that Spencer is definitely using on purpose instead of the strange, sharp pain.

he fans out the cards and shows them to me, smiling. "pick a card, any card."

"hmm..." I tap my chin thoughtfully and stare at the bright red designs covering the back. I wonder if it's a rigged deck, or if he actually knows tricks. he doesn't seem like the type of person to be into magic. but then again, Spencer is full of surprises. I grab a random one in the middle, pluck it out and memorize it. a red six of spades.

"alright, then..." he grins and slams the deck back into one neat pile, then does some weird shuffling move again and shows the fanned-out deck to Morgan this time. "your turn."

Morgan's gaze flickers between the cards and Reid's face, which is trying to suppress a smile. the dimple on the right side of his cheek twitches once. when Derek taps a card near the end, Spencer nods and does the same thing that he did when I picked one.

except this time, as soon as he's got the whole deck together, he taps them a bit too hard and they go flying. fifty-two-pick-up style, Queens and Kings and Jokers tumbling to the linoleum floor in a defeated descent. my eyes widen and second-hand embarrassment rolls in, followed by the team's stunned silence.

I even feel the tattoo artist falter a bit in his work.

"oh." Spencer says. JJ puts her hand on his shoulder.

"Spence, it's fine."

"no, no, it's not-- I practiced this, like, fifty times last night--" his face is bright red as he drops to his knees. Penelope glances once at you and you return her stare with a pitying expression. Emily goes to help him, then Morgan and JJ.

"let me just..." he gathers up the remaining cards that they hand him, putting them back together into the pile again. I watch as he goes through them, somehow counting at lightning speed before frowning. "we're missing one."

everyone looks around, but it's obvious that there aren't any more stray cards lying about. I feel bad for him, not only because it didn't work but because he practiced it so much. I've been wondering what he does on the weekends-- magic tricks never even crossed my mind.

then Spencer's face lights up.

he comes over to me and gestures to my side, right by the spot where the tattoo artist is working. "may I?"

"uh--" I glance down at where he's pointing, the small patch of bare stomach. "sure?"

his fingertips graze beneath my tummy, between my skin and the smooth leather of the tattoo table, and snatch a card out from under me. it's barely a touch, but my breath hitches in my throat. my fingers tighten just slightly around Penelope's.

he holds up a red six of spades. the enormous grin on his face gives him away. "this wouldn't happen to be your card, would it?"

I gasp and nod, amazement on my face before it's wiped away by the sharp pain of the needle. Spencer displays the red six of spades to the whole team, then basks in their surprised applause.

Emily's smiling in disbelief. "you really had us going for a second."

"wait, wait--" I poke his leg and Spencer turns to me. "how did you do that?"

there's no way he could have hidden it there without me knowing; if he had slipped a card beneath my bare skin, surely I would have felt it. but the magic man just shrugs and shakes his head at me.

"a good magician never shares their secrets, Clea."

this time, the blush spreads over my cheeks. he's cocky right now, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not enjoying it. he's in his element, I realize, even if it is an unexpected one. and as he puts the cards into his back pocket, the group erupts with questions.

he's done magic before in front of them, but they seem to be awestruck by his performance this time. admittedly, I think the whole klutz act really added a nice dramatic element to it.

I'm mostly quiet for the rest of the tattooing process, although everyone else is chattering about the trick and how well the ink is going to turn out. I'm still wracking my brain for ideas of what they chose, but I honestly don't know. I've been banned from peeking.

maybe this was a mistake-- I've only recently joined this team, and already allowed them to decide what's going to be on my body forever. at least it's small. and maybe I'll actually like it; who knows?

when the artist lets out a satisfied sigh and turns the needle off, however, I find myself twisting around and staring frantically at the new design.

"oh my god."

it's a tiny airplane, with two dotted loopty-loops behind it. just small enough to be adorable.

"what do you think?" Garcia asks, eyeing it herself. they all gather around to admire the new design that sits on the outside of my upper thigh. I giggle.

"I love it."

"don't sound so relieved." Emily laughs. I can't help the bubbly excitement in my stomach.

"sorry, I just didn't know what to expect."

Spencer is staring at the ink when he turns to the tattoo artist. "how long until you think it'll be healed?"

the guy stands up to get treatment stuff for it. "I'd say about two weeks, but it varies from person to person." he leaves to grab cling film.

"I thought for sure you'd be the one to know that." I smirk at the genius. he shoves his hands in his pockets, makes sure the artist is out of earshot, and then looks back at you.

"I do know." he scoffs.

"uh huh." I laugh.

"actually, for the record," he lowers his voice. "I'd recommend at least three weeks instead of two. the last thing you want is infected flesh."

"yum, Spencer. thanks for that image." I smile with wide eyes and he shrugs.

...

it's quiet when I shut the door of my apartment shut behind me. I've got a bag full of supplies with me to clean the new art, and I'm feeling lethargic after getting lunch with the team. because Rossi wasn't around to foot the bill, I made the mistake of offering to pay.

we've got the day off after the most recent slew of cases, so I've determined to spend the rest of my day well. I could curl up with a nice documentary, or I could scrub my kitchen and do a little tidying up around here. god knows the film of dust on my bookshelves needs to be wiped away.

oh my god.

am I boring? maybe. possibly.

I shake the thought from my head and bring my things into the kitchen to organize. after spending a few hours cleaning up, I go out grocery shopping, then come home to sit down with a book. my errands take up so much time, I don't even notice the DC sunlight sinking beneath the harsh lines of the city, drenching my apartment in a silky darkness poked through with lit lamps.

it's already 9pm and I kind of want to hang out with someone, but I doubt any of the team wants to spend any more time with me than they did before lunch. or they might have plans with their families.

well, I know one person who definitely doesn't have plans.

I pull out my phone and hit Spencer's contact before I can talk myself out of it, knowing full well that it's not a big deal but still becoming a little nervous. it rings three times before he picks up.

"hello?"

"hey, Spencer."

"Clea. what's-- what's up?" he sounds more confused than anything. probably because I just saw him about an hour ago.

"I know it's late, but do you wanna come over? I'm bored and I feel like you know more about tattoo cleaning than I do." it's a weak excuse.

"why would I know more about tattoo cleaning--"

"you know damn well why, Reid," I laugh. "don't fish for compliments."

there's a slight laugh on the other end of the line before he replies. "I'll be over soon."

I wait patiently, preparing two mugs of coffee in the meantime. I'm sure we'll both want the caffeine, because I have no urge to turn in early tonight. my stomach twists a bit when he calls to tell me he's here, and I go to let him in. I'm not nervous.

except I actually am a little bit nervous when I open the door and there's Spencer with a shy smile and a coat that's a bit too big for him. it hangs off his narrow frame, and I realize that it must have just started raining. his hair is wet and there are dark spots on his clothes where the water has seeped through.

"get inside, my god." I move aside so he can come into the apartment and warm up. he walks in, looks around at my walls. I realize that he's never been here before. "welcome to my humble abode, Dr. Reid."

"it's nice." he compliments without much emotion. I lock the door and turn just in time to see his hand shaking at his side.

"thanks. let me take your coat." I glance out the window, where I now notice the rain pelting the glass.

Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hesitantly lets me hang it on the hook by the door before turning to him with my hands on my hips. "so, how are you?"

"I'm good," he smiles a little and runs a hand through his hair. "I actually read an article on the way here about those psychedelic mushrooms we were discussing the other day."

"is that, like, our thing, now?" I joke and gesture to the couch, where two mugs of hot coffee rest on coasters. he sits down gingerly on the cushions, sitting at the very opposite end of the couch from me.

"I can send it to you, if you'd like." he smiles.

"please do. I've been hoping for some titillating reading, recently." I hand him the mug and he stop before taking a sip.

"how many sugars did you put in this?"

"relax, genius, I'm not out to get you--" I catch his eye. "yet."

he giggles and takes a sip, then another. the smile tugging at my lips is too obvious for my liking; I'm just glad that I got the amount of sugar correct. it would have been funny to ambush him with a sweetness attack, although I think making him come here in the rain was punishment enough.

"have you ever had oat milk?" he asks out of the blue. I frown.

"yeah, why?"

"just wondering. I'm lactose intolerant and was considering trying it."

"you're lactose intolerant?"

"mhmm." he nods enthusiastically.

"I watched you eat three yogurt cups in a row yesterday." I chuckle at the memory of it. he eats so much and remains as skinny as a telephone pole.

"I love dairy." he shrugs it off. I pull my legs up beneath me on the couch and give him a serious expression.

"well, personally, I think oat milk tastes horrendous and it makes me want to vomit, but you should try it."

"noted."

we start to talk about various nondairy alternatives for coffee and it ends up being a surprisingly fun conversation. talking to Spencer has its own charm-- it's not just a conversation, it's a fully immersive experience. from his ambitious vocabulary to the unconscious gestures he makes, all of it keeps me hooked.

I rest my cheek on my palm, elbow leaning against the back of the couch while I nod along to him talking about almond farming. he's got a disdainful expression on his face as he brings up its environmental consequences, punctuating every few sentences with another sip of his coffee.

the rain is still pouring outside. thunder occasionally rolls over the sky and shakes the windows in their panes. my eyes flit from his face to the view when a flash of lightning catches my attention.

"--sorry, we should clean your tattoo." he seems to catch himself mid-thought, realizing that he came here to help me and not just rant about the business of almonds. I smile.

"no worries. this stuff is interesting to me, too."

"there's this documentary out now about it, too, that I've been meaning to watch."

"really?"

"yeah!" his face lights up. "if you want, we can--" he clears his throat. "we can watch it together."

he blushes as he says it, and I can tell that he's worried about how his intentions will come off. he can't take it back, so he runs the pad of his index over his middle finger and fidgets in a subtle way.

"that sounds like fun." I don't want him to feel weird. we've only hung out a few times, and I'm sort of looking forward to it.

"great," he straightens and adjusts his shirt, which has gotten slightly rumpled from his curling up on the couch. his tie is crooked, too. "where are the cleaning supplies?"

"in the kitchen."

"perfect, we should be doing it in there anyway." he stands, pushes a bit of his hair behind his ear while he waits for me to follow-- and I do, albeit with a wince from my tender side. it doesn't hurt as much as I expected.

he follows me into the minuscule kitchen and doesn't hesitate to start going through the things the artist gave me to take home. there's some foam wash and special moisturizer for it, not a lot. it's small enough that the care will be minimal, which is reassuring.

it's only when Spencer's washing his hands that I realize I'll need to unbutton my pants again in order to reach the tattoo. which means this is about to get at least slightly awkward for the both of us.

he turns around just in time to see me unzipping my jeans and his eyes widen.

"how else do you expect to clean it?" I laugh, and he gulps, visibly. his Adam's apple bobs in his throat and he nods in understanding.

"y-yeah, of course." his eyes are everywhere but on me. suddenly, my kitchen walls are incredibly interesting.

I shove down the waistband of my pants until they're just below my upper thigh, then I sit up on the counter and clear my throat. "I can cover some of myself if that makes you more comfortable."

"no, no, that's okay--" he speaks too quickly, then recognizes his mistake. "it's okay. this shouldn't take very long, anyway."

without another word, I shrug and watch him delicately peel away the film. his fingertips are back to barely touching my skin, just like when he pulled that card out from beneath me, and I stop breathing for a moment.

there's also a gel-like substance under the covering, which he tells me is just standard petroleum jelly. Spencer moves with a near surgical (and altogether unnecessary) precision. his eyes are glued to my skin as if forcing them not to stray to my now exposed panties. it doesn't feel sexual at all because it's not, thankfully.

when he uses the foam wash and begins to rub it into my skin, he frowns with concern and looks up at me. "is this okay? you can do it yourself if--"

"it's fine, Reid," I answer too quickly this time. heat rushes to my cheeks. "I honestly thought this was going to be a more complicated process than it really is."

"it's pretty simple, especially for something this small." he shrugs. "obviously, you don't want to get it infected, so I'd just think of it as treating a cut."

silence in our respective positions at the moment makes me nervous, so I change the subject.

"magic tricks, huh?" if anything, I need to distract myself from the way his hand is rubbing over my skin in a totally nonsexual and platonic way.

he relaxes a little, lifting his gaze to mine with a somewhat pleased countenance. "yeah, I love magic."

it's like peeling back a corner of wallpaper and seeing a shade of red beneath; not a lot, but enough to pique my curiosity. "a man of science?"

Spencer shakes his head at the air of faux sophistication I pour into it. "the world needs some wonder."

he says it in an offhand way, although I feel the weight of it from the way he runs a damp paper towel over the last of the cleansing foam. his touch presses into me and his eyes are lowered in a slightly distant way.

"how long have you been into it?" I fight the urge to ask a million questions at once.

"since I was a kid," he jerks back to attention. the grin on his face tells you just how special this is to him. "I used to buy all the books and practice for my mom constantly."

"did you ever do the trick with the never-ending string of handkerchiefs?" I recall one of the only classic moves I know. Reid laughs.

"that one's easy."

"what about the coin behind the ear?" I throw out another one.

Spencer straightens, doesn't even bother to set down the paper towel, before reaching up behind my ear and pulling away with a shiny quarter set between his thumb and forefinger. "you mean this one?"

there it is again, that confidence I saw in the tattoo parlor. he's standing just close enough for me to notice, and I grin as I snatch the metal out of his hand and set it on the counter beside me. "thanks."

"no problem." he laughs.

"you should do that more often."

"the coin trick? I'd go broke." he jokes. I laugh at the rare appearance of Spencer's playful side, hoping to get a bit more of it before we have to go back to being serious at work.

"magic in general, I mean. I think it would brighten up the office a bit."

he thinks about it for a moment, washing his hands again. the sound of the faucet reminds me to put my lotion on my leg. I get to it while he thinks of what to say.

"yeah, maybe you're right."

"I still find it funny that you're into that kind of stuff." I say honestly. of all the things for him to nerd out about, this feels almost comically unexpected. but Reid only gives me a shy smile before replying.

"it always made my mom laugh when I was a kid."

"is she also good at it?"

"tricks? no," he chuckles. there's a washcloth between his long, slender fingers that he's been using to dry them for the past two minutes. at this point, I think he's doing it to keep from fidgeting. "she says it's an old fashioned thing, and that only made me wanna do it more."

"well," I cap the bottle and set it down on the counter, pull my jeans up and lean against the counter with a smile. "I like old fashioned."

Spencer gives a friendly smile. "me too."

taglist (add yourself here or message me to be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @donald4spiderman @awritingtree @gingeraleluke @bewitchedbibliophile @multixfandomwriter @xoxomgg

[mssleepy876b]

Family Ties- Chapter 3

Summary: Family can be a positive and negative force in one's life. Detective Jay Halstead knows that personally and he helps a new Intelligence family member through it.

Requested? No. But promised @resanoona that I would post mine once she posted hers.

Word count: 2469

Warnings: domestic violence

A/n: Unedited Sorry for any mistakes

Family Ties Chapter 3

Jay and Hailey took Brielle to her former home first when they left Chicago Med. Hailey and Jay cleared the house using her keys to be sure it was empty before she entered. “Can I have a few minutes in my room to change?” she asked once the officers from the hospital brought her inside.

“Sure, go ahead.” Hailey said following her to the top of the stairs.

While he waited, Jay searched Michael’s study and stationed the officers who had been at the hospital to help guard the house while they were there. Hailey heard Brielle open the bedroom door a little over five minutes later. She walked down the hall and saw Brielle already with a pile of clothes on the bed. Brielle had changed into a pair of blue jeans and a cream short sleeve sweater with tennis shoes on. She had pulled her hair back into a high ponytail moving as she entered a large walk-in closet. She already had a smaller jewelry box on the bed leaving a larger one next to the dresser. Hailey saw her going through her shoes and other accessories next to be sure she had what she needed. Brielle had pulled mostly work style outfits and comfortable clothing that she felt secure in and that she liked. Hailey was surprised at the racks of clothes in the closet still full.

“It isn’t the glamourous life everyone thinks. These were loaned to me by force I would believe. I don’t know how or by whom and I don’t want that burden moving forward. My life has to change if I am to survive. I can’t take that negativity with me into my future.” Brielle said to her quietly her voice tinged with sadness. “Can we pack what is on the bed and these and I will get my bathroom things?”

“Sure, let me get a box from Jay.” Hailey said.

“Here, we can use my luggage set too. It was mine before Michael. It was a splurge when we first started dating. He would jet-set me all over wowing me. I realize how fake that is now. It was all for his work.” Brielle said her voice sounding pained, rolling a suitcase out of the closet at her side.

Jay brought up a box and found Brielle and Hailey gathering up her things from the bedroom. After they secured what Brie wanted from that room, Brielle went into her sitting room as Michael called it leading Jay and Hailey behind her. She pulled photo albums and specific books from the shelves. She also pulled pictures off the wall. “This was the only place I could have my family pictures. Michael demanded his family be center focus in the rest of the house.” Brielle said as Hailey watched recognizing Brie in the pictures.

Once finished there, They followed her to the kitchen where she grabbed a binder of her family recipes and then into Michael’s main office. She opened his wall safe using the combination in his desk and pulled out her wallet and identification papers as well as a trust her parents had for her to access since she was now an adult. Michael had taken the papers years ago and told her he would keep them safe for her. He denied her access to them later as the relationship changed as his control tightened on her life. Brie allowed Jay to search the safe and take whatever documents he chose. While he did that, she moved to a library and pulled several books that had meaning to her as well as pulling files from a desk to take with her. She then moved to a 2nd office to pull more things that she had from her parents’ home that she wanted to be sure she had. Jay had caught up with them and she let him have access to the safes in the library and the 2nd office.

She looked around as they finally prepared to leave. The two officers helped Hailey and Jay remove her belongings from the house that they had staged near the front door. She paused at the door and set down her keys and her engagement ring at a table by the back of the couch in the living room. Jay looked at her concerned. “I don’t want it anymore. It represents lies and a life that was never meant for me. I never plan to return here so I don’t need the keys either. I don’t have a car that is mine anymore. He sold off anything that was just mine so he could isolate me.” She said. She grabbed several jackets from the front closet threw them in to a box, locked the bottom lock of the front door, and closed it behind herself and Jay.

He placed his arm around her waist as they walked to the car, he had driven them in as a shiver rolled across her body. His presence helped her keep her fear down as the reality set in as his arm supported her as she walked. “He’s going to be furious. That or his Uncle Angelo will. They demanded such control and loyalty. I don’t know that I will ever be rid of them.” She whispered to Jay squeezing a coat to her chest as the officer took the box of her coats.

Jay quietly helped her into backseat the car. He then drove to the 21st District office. The officers moved her personal belongings to a storage area in the office as Jay and Hailey went to escort her to the upper stairs’ offices for Intelligence. Her fears rose as she climbed the stairs clutching her jacket to her chest. Jay felt a shiver go down her back as she came to the top of the stairs. Hailey introduced everyone and they moved slowly so that she was not afraid. Voight came up last. Hailey caught a look of recognition flash across Voight’s face as well as anger as he looked over Brielle’s face and bruises that were visible.

“This is Sergeant Voight, Brielle. He runs our Unit.” Hailey said.

Brielle looked him in his eyes and spoke. “You are brave to take on Michael and his family. I know they know of you as I have heard your name before, but they terrify me. Your name sticks in my memory for some other reason, but I can’t think of it right now.”

Hank spoke calmly after nodding his head. “Angelo and I have had dealings before. Michael is not as important to his uncle as Michael thinks. Angelo told us where he was once he saw your pictures. It will be made clear to Michael that you are to be left alone.”

“Michael is chafing under Angelo. Thinks he is old and foolish. Wants control on his own.” Brielle told him.

She shivered again. Jay caught it and spoke to Brielle. “Are you cold?”

“A little but also nervous and sore. A lot of change in less than 24 hours.” Brielle said quietly her voice displaying her exhaustion leaning slightly on Jay’s shoulder.

“We will watch out for you, Brielle. You asked for help and we are here to do that for you.” Jay said as Hank watched them.

Hank immediately led them into the break room where he questioned Brielle about everything she knew about Michael, his work, his colleagues, where he worked, who he met with, how he helped his uncle and then finally about that last argument.

“Brielle, what started the fight last night?” Hank asked.

Tears fell down Brie’s cheeks as the memories flashed back. “It was stupid, petty really. He felt I disrespected him in front his cousin. He felt I was not completing my role as his future wife. Didn’t show enough respect to him as it was his oldest cousin Carlo who was visiting that night. I had a busy day at the Charity Center that day and didn’t know Carlo was coming to visit. I was tired. The charities we work with are mid-funding cycle. They need all the activities they can to get donations. We were coordinating them all day. I came home and was exhausted. I had working non-stop. I hadn’t even stopped for lunch that day. Dinner wasn’t ready when he arrived with Carlo and I hadn’t even changed from my work clothes. He dragged me upstairs, bruising my arm here around my right elbow, and forced me to change into an outfit of his choice. He then threw keys at me to go get carry-out from his distant cousin Alonzo’s restaurant. I returned, my nerves on edge and acted as what I thought was a perfect hostess. Carlo always was one I liked of Michael’s family. He was charming, sweet almost if you didn’t know who his family was or what they do.”

She took a shaky breath and felt Jay’s hand take hers. She sighed trying to calm her fears and continued. “Once Carlo left, I immediately cleaned the kitchen and the dishes and went to prepare for today. Michael called me down from our room and ordered me into the car outside the house. It was unusual for him to do that. He would often head out without me most nights. I could tell he was mad, and I didn’t understand why. I was worried when it was the town car that he had ready. It is heavily tinted, and you can never tell who or what was inside. I jumped in and slid as far from Michael as I could as the fear filled me. I also tried to be sure that I could exit on my own if I chose. Once Freddy closed the door and the car was moving, Michael struck out at me.” She began to shake as the fear set in and felt Jay’s hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him, took a breath and continued. “He grabbed me by my hair. I had it in a ponytail by that point because I had been cleaning and didn’t want to get it dirty. He slapped me as he held me by my hair. I can’t remember what he said, I know he was saying something, but I didn’t hear it. I was in shock as the pain stung my face. He had never come to that point before where he had ever hit me before. I was stunned and confused. He had such a strong grip on my right arm again so I couldn’t stop him. He then took off his belt with one hand and proceeded to use it to hit me all over with it. It felt like he was using the buckle mostly. He focused on my mid-section, I guess from where it hurt. I felt weaker and weaker as he hit me. I begged him to stop. I tried to ask why but he just swung the belt again. He then set the belt aside and backhanded my face at least 4 times before we came to a stop. I was left in the car as he gathered himself and stepped out to enter some building just down the block from here. I heard him order his driver to stand outside the car but not to get back in until he returned. Jesse was driving that night; he was a guard who was kind of protective over me and hated how scared Michael would make me at times. I waited until I had the energy and I heard Jesse get called inside. I used that chance to get out and run. I knew if I stayed Michael would continue to hurt me. His anger could flip like a switch so quickly from one extreme to the next. He would be calm for those he met with but fly off the handle at any moment with me. I remember the fear that I had to get away. I was disoriented and confused about where I was. I just knew I needed help and needed to get to safety. I ran down the dark alley and when I didn’t hear anyone following, I turned up towards the station, I guess. I just saw the lights. Thought I could be safe here. I saw Detective Halstead and just had an instinct that he would help me. It then gets hazy for me other than I remember his green eyes and the sensation of safety once he met me mid-way.” She said as her body shivered again.

She looked up and saw the anger in Jay’s face, the deep set look in Hank’s and the tears in Hailey’s eyes. Hank reached his hand out for her. “I promise you, Brielle. He will never get the chance to do that again. Hailey will put the transcript into the computer and get it typed for you to sign. I am reaching out to some of my contacts to get you a safe place to stay tonight and then we will go from there. Plus, I known you and your parents a long time, Brielle. It has been since before Camille died that we have been together. You look exactly like your mom, but your eyes are your dad’s. You grew up as much with us as Justin did at your house with your parents. Michael will never get close enough to hurt you again, you are my family, Brielle.” He said calmly to her.

Hailey nodded and left, Hank stood and looked to Jay. “Keep an eye on her, Halstead. She is a part of this family. He made a mistake. He just doesn’t know how large yet.”

“Yes, Sarge.” Jay answered. Hank left them sitting quietly as Brie tried to calm her nerves and her body as she was still feeling the fear from the memories causing her to rub at her face. He pulled her close to him under his arm feeling her shiver still. “Hey, I’m right here, Brielle. He can’t hurt you anymore.” Jay whispered to her. She put her head against his shoulder breathing deep before she turned to face him.

She yawned as her body began to relax from the fear. “I’m so sorry. I just feel so exhausted. I feel so drained, weak. Might be the medicine too. Dr. Choi said I might get sleepy from it.” She whispered leaning against him.

“Not surprised. Go ahead and lay down in here while you wait. I will be just outside the door at my desk if you need me, okay.” He said to her. She nodded and he helped her lay down on the couch in the room and left his jacket with her as she allowed her body to slip into calming sleep feeling safe.

[blackrose343]

Hopeless - Chapter 5: The Consequences

Warnings: Angst, Language and PTSD

I am not a medical professional so I cannot say if this chapter accurately portrays PTSD. I did research it and compared it to what I have written. From what I saw, it looks like the reader is going through something along the lines of PTSD. So to be on the safe side, I decided to put PTSD in the warning.

Devil May Cry - V x Gender Neutral Reader

Fanfic summary:  You have been kidnapped by a Soul Snatcher clan that used to reside within Red Grave. They’re torturing you for more information about the one who helped you kill their leader. While being held captive you begin to think about how to escape, how this all started, and if someone will find you. Then again, what would happen if you escape?

Hopeless Masterlist

Sorry this took so long.

Part of the poem V reads is  Auguries of Innocence by William Blake.

Present Day

Vergil returned with you to Devil May Cry not too long after the others. Everyone gathered around, excited to finally meet you. (Although, they wished it was under better circumstances.) Nero covered Nico’s mouth, quieting her before she exclaimed her excitement about meeting you. Vergil reminded everyone you’ve been through a lot and needed rest. A lot of it. He also stressed the importance of giving you space once you regain consciousness. Vergil didn’t want you to become overwhelmed by everyone bombarding you at once. You would need time to readjust to your life; to relearn what you have forgotten.

“Try not to wake (Y/N).” Vergil left the room as V approached you. A big sigh of relief left him. You were okay just like Vergil promised you’d be. Lovingly, V stroked your hair. He got onto his knees, then placed a tender kiss on your forehead. A tiny smile graced your lips. To not disturb slumber, V took his leave.

Vergil was sitting outside enjoying the night’s cool breeze. No, he was still trying to figure out how to tell V the decision he made. Ever since he made the decision he has been trying to find the best way to tell V. Vergil knew V wouldn’t take it well. Especially since he didn't know if all or some of your memories were sealed.

It wasn’t hard for V to find Vergil. He recognized Vergil’s agitated sigh anywhere. V’s expression showed Vergil he wanted to know what happened. Vergil chose to explain to V what the healer explained to him. V’s grip on his cane was so tight his knuckles whitened. He was furious Vergil made the decision of you possibly forgetting him. But, he understood why. V expressed to Vergil he wanted you to be okay no matter what. And that’s what Vergil achieved. Before V said anything he shouldn’t, he left.

Slowly, you opened your eyes, then you observed your surroundings. You had no idea where you were. After further inspection, you realized you were in someone’s bedroom. The room more than likely belonged to the man next to you. You studied the sleeping man. A book with a “V” on the cover was on his face. Pale, slender, covered in tattoos and some bruises. You wondered who he was. That thought soon vanished. Silently, you freaked out when you saw a panther by his feet. Even more so when you saw the bird next to him. Does that bird have three pupils?!

“Hey Shakespeare, wake up! (Y/N) is awake.” The bird ruffled his feathers, then flew around the room. The panther lazily yawned then looked up at you. It would have pounced onto you but the man commanded it not to. His sultry voice soothed you yet you don’t know why. You’ve never met him. Or at least you didn't think you did.

Heartbreak filled V’s eyes when you told him you didn’t know who he was. You could tell he was restraining himself from approaching you. V wanted to hold you; to do whatever he could to make you remember him. To make him feel better you mentioned his voice was familiar to you. V’s saddened eyes lightened with hope. He knew you would remember him in due time.

To get an idea of how much has been sealed away, V convinced you to tell him about your life. You briefly babbled about your childhood. Nothing too unusual about it. You glossed over your demon hunting training. You didn't have many friends because of it. You slightly elaborated your demon hunting career. Honestly, you enjoyed it and would never leave it. When you reached recent events, nothing came to mind. All you could remember was meeting with a gentleman for a job. You couldn’t remember the conversation or what the job was.

V meticulously chose his words while explaining what happened to you and how you met him. He also kept some details to himself. You took it as him not wanting to offend you. V did not want to be the reason you regain your horrid memories so soon. He knew you would remember eventually yet he will try to prolong it for as long as possible.

Few Years Later

You were surrounded by darkness. The sound of your breathing was interrupted by an agonizing scream. A familiar scream. You couldn’t remember where you heard it from. But you knew it. You instinctively followed it. The scenery changed as you made your way to the scream. The scenes varied from a bar to chaotic parts of  Red Grave. It felt as if you were a part of each scene. As if you were reliving someone’s life. 

The screams were muffled when you spotted an out of place door. The same door you’ve been seeing for too many nights. You banged on the door. Its barrier forced you away once again. You stared at the door, cursing at it. Each time you approach the door, the same thing happens. You didn’t know why you let yourself repeat this scenario so many times: banging the door non-stop till your hands bleed and the screaming abruptly stops. You wanted to say it was because you wanted to save whoever was behind the door. For some reason curiosity was more of a reason. You were unsure if you were curious to see who was behind the door or what was happening. There was no doubt you would find out soon. The barrier was significantly weaker than when you first saw it.

The muffled screams were non-stop. Whoever was screaming seemed to be in more pain than before. Desperately, you kicked the door while reassuring whoever was on the other side you were there to help. Nothing seemed to be working. It made no sense. It was a simple door. Nothing special about it besides the barrier. It didn’t matter. You had to get through it. 

The door's final attempt to keep you away woke you. Your eyes shot open. Your mind felt hazy, then it was racing. Your heart was beating frantically. Sweat rolled down your body as you sat up. You growled from irritation when you realized you were in your room.

“(Y/N), are you alright? It seemed like you were having another nightmare.” V’s worried voice relaxed you. He softly caressed your face then kissed your forehead.

“The dream with the damned door...like almost every night now…” You were so frustrated with it. At first, you didn’t mind not opening it. You can’t always achieve something on the first attempt. After a couple weeks, well...It started to become frustrating. You tried to stop yourself from going near the door. The temptation of seeing what was behind it grew stronger with each attempt to open it. Not only did it create the most interesting scenarios the closer you got to opening it. It also seemed to be calling you to it. You were too close to give up on it now.

You yawned as you rubbed your temples. Lazily, you kissed V on the cheek then made your way to the bathroom. Whispered curses could be heard through the bathroom door. 

V’s eyes followed you until the door blocked his view. His worry for you grows each time you mention the door to him. Ever since you started to dream about that door, you slowly started to become different. When the door made its first appearance, you became more irritable. V thought the irritability was from difficulty sleeping. He read poetry to you before bed but it didn’t always work. 

The next thing V noticed was your interactions with everyone changed. Most of the time you would secretly observe them as if you were on a mission. Sometimes, you would barely talk to them or get lost during a conversation. V knew you were listening. It just seemed other stuff was on your mind. Other times you put up your guard when around a crowd of people.

Attempts to discuss your behavioral changes were made. Each time you yelled at V, confirming nothing was wrong. When you realized you were yelling at him, you automatically apologized. You explained to V you had no idea why you were acting the way you were. V would try to get some sort of explanation out of you. Eventually, you explained it was your dream with the door. The weaker the door got, the more realistic the dreams from it felt. 

V was certain the door in your dreams was the seal to your memories. V brought up his concerns for you with Vergil the first chance he got. Solemnly, Vergil explained to V once the seal was released it cannot be remade. V was furious but hid it well. Instead of dealing with his feelings about this, he focused on you. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Whenever you were feeling down or anxious, he would do everything he could to make you feel better and safe.

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

You and V were on a double date with Nero and Kyrie. Kyrie wanted to have dinner at a new restaurant on the other side of Red Grave. The subway ride there was like any other subway ride. Nothing exciting to see. All of you chatted with each other, trying to decide where else to go besides the restaurant. You were excited to see a whole new part of Red Grave. It took the government long enough to start rebuilding it after what happened. Yet for some reason an uneasy feeling started to consume you.

Kyrie and Nero got off the subway with V following behind them. They’re voices faded as they neared the exit. You sat in the subway, staring at the advertisement on the station’s wall. The advertisement seemed familiar to you in a way. Yes, you’ve seen this advertisement in many places but that wasn’t it. It was as if this specific advertisement contained something. You were convincing yourself it was nothing and to catch up with the others. You couldn’t think of any reason as to why you didn’t want to get off the subway. You forced yourself to get off when the last call was announced.

A flash from a faulty light took you to a destroyed version of the subway station. The advertisement you were looking at before was torn. Not from age but from claws. As you turned your head, you saw the subway was no longer on the tracks. It was stuck in the wall on the opposite side of the tracks. Chunks of the station were around you, along with corpses. Broken electrical wires and pipes were above you. You turned your head again. Your eyes focused on the claws about to strike you. Your instincts screamed at you to defend yourself. “Get away from me!”

“V, are you okay?!” Kyrie’s voice rang through your ears. Your eyes shot open. The station was intact. Not one thing was out of place. Nero was helping V get up. V reassured Nero he could get up on his own. You could see a bruise forming on his chest. You were petrified. Nothing could explain what just happened or why. I attacked V? No, that’s not right. I punched something else. I was being attacked.

“V, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You examined V’s chest while apologizing to him over and over. V continued his reassurance. He didn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood, especially yours. He kept quiet about how much your punch hurt him. He gently wiped your guilt ridden tears. He kissed your hand, then led the way to the restaurant. You squeezed his hand, pouring your emotions into it. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

V kept himself composed the entire time. Within himself, V was more than worried. He felt your fear through your punch. Your eyes were filled with fear and yet they had determination. The last time he saw you like this was when you almost died. V had no doubt your memories will be freed soon. 

V and Nero froze as you and Kyrie crossed the street. Disbelief filled them. They couldn’t believe the shitty luck today was presenting. The restaurant was on the roof of the building you were held captive at. Nero was spitting out excuses for V to get you away from here. There was no way either of them could let you enter that building, let alone let you eat dinner exactly where you were almost murdered. Before either of them could get to you, they watched Kyrie pull you into the building. Nero muttered “fuck” as he and V made their way to the restaurant.

Nervously, you laughed as Kyrie pulled you to the building. The uneasy feeling from earlier strengthened the closer you got to it. The feeling continued to worsen as you reached the roof. Your stomach was in knots. Your breathing started to become shaky. Your mind screamed for you to get away. You couldn't understand what was going on with you. You noticed Nero and V were a bit hesitant about coming to this place too. So maybe it wasn’t just you freaking out over nothing. 

You wrapped a few ice cubes in napkins then placed it on V’s chest. You kept apologizing to him. You couldn’t understand why he wasn’t mad at you. All you saw was his concern for you. You wanted to explain to V what happened earlier. Just not with an audience. Everyone would think you lost your damn mind. 

You couldn't stop yourself from figuring out why the events from earlier happened. Your mind conjured up so many reasons. You tried to figure out which one was a plausible reason. You didn’t want V to hear it was because of your damned dreams again. You’ve been using them as an excuse for too long. You could only conclude work may be starting to become too much. Maybe you needed a vacation. Who knows? 

“(Y/N)”? You looked at Nero like a deer in headlights. Was he reading your mind? You weren’t sure. He was giving you a questioning look. Sheepishly, you apologized for not listening then asked him to repeat himself. You found out everyone was discussing the changes made when this part of town was rebuilt.

“What happened here? I know the Qliphoth was here. It just seems something else happened too.” Nero threw V into the spotlight. V’s explanation was vague. It barely gave you the answer you were looking for. You gave Kyrie a look, silently asking her if V was hiding something from you. Kyrie’s reply was a subtle shrug. She had no idea what was going on.

Dinner continued normally. It was as if everything from earlier never happened. Nero and Kyrie acting lovey dovey. You and V were trying not to tease them. It scared you how easily everyone was able to push something like that aside. 

V glanced at you, looking for any sign that you were well. Ever since you entered the restaurant he noticed you were shaking. He knew you were attempting to hide it. The shaking appeared so strong, everyone thought you were freezing. He noticed you barely touched your food even though you claimed you were starving earlier. V thought it was best if you and him went home after dinner.

You and everyone else walked along the edge of the roof to exit the restaurant. V used his cane to deviate your wandering eyes to him. He made absolutely sure you didn’t look below or beyond. He had to. He wanted to prevent you from feeling worse than you already are. He feared you would remember what happened here.

Kyrie managed to find enough room to take a couple of pictures. Nero tried to get out of it by saying he didn’t look decent enough. V attempted to convince Kyrie to wait since the restaurant was crowded. Kyrie asked what was the harm of taking a couple pictures. It’s been too long since Kyrie got to take group photos. Also, the sunset would be the perfect background. The guys sighed in defeat.

You and Kyrie gushed over the pictures as you continued to leave the restaurant. Nero pleaded with Kyrie to wait until she was out of the restaurant to look at them. Kyrie showed Nero the picture she was currently looking at. Nero made a quick comment, then placed his hands on her shoulders. You and V watched Nero guide Kyrie. It was entertaining, even impressive. Nero had Kyrie dodge everyone coming through the door.

Your laughter at Nero and Kyrie was abruptly interrupted. Someone forced their way between you and V causing you to slam into the railing. As you situated yourself, you caught a glimpse of a black haired figure below. For just a second, the figure looked like a beaten V. You knew V wasn’t down there, he was next to you. You couldn’t stop yourself from checking. You saw V, then someone strangely familiar looking at the table behind him. Briefly, you tried to remember how you knew him.

“Are you ok-tell me who killed Carmilla!” The calm voice evolved into an aggressive demand. You couldn’t figure out who was talking to you. The demand was repeated. You kept quiet. You had no idea who Carmilla was. You don’t remember any mission involving anyone with that name. The harshness of the demand escalated until it evolved into yelling in your ear. You covered your ears but it sounded like it was coming from all over. Even from right next to you.

“I’m not telling you shit. Give up.” The haughty voice was yours, but you didn’t move your lips. The sound of powerful strikes, along with your whimpers followed.  Frantically, you searched for help. Nothing. No one. It was just you and the one asking about Carmilla. You closed your eyes preparing for the next strike. You started to take deep breaths. It was the only thing you believed would put everything back into place.

Few people asked if V wanted them to call an ambulance. V persuaded everyone to leave you be. He reassured them you would be fine and needed to be left alone. He knew the best thing for you was to have as much space as possible. To have as much time as you need to gather yourself. He knew you needed him too, but there was no way to physically calm you without possibly making the situation worse.

You stood still, gripping the rail for dear life. V studied the rhythm of your deep breaths and heaving chest. It was obvious you were trying to calm yourself. Even more obvious you were currently reliving your time while held captive here. Nightmarish thoughts raced through V’s mind. Nothing he conjured could be compared to what you actually went through. He wanted to understand but couldn’t come close to. In hopes of helping you and calming himself, V recited poetry from his book. “To see a world in a  grain of sand…”

“WHO KILLED CARMILLA?! TELL ME! TELL...poor souls...dwell in night...does…” Softly, the harsh demands transformed into V’s poetic voice. You completely focused on V’s voice, hoping he wouldn’t stop. The man in front of you morphed into V. Tears cascaded your face as you tightened your closed eyes. You begged V to stay with you. You wanted nothing more than for this madness to end. 

Gingerly, you opened your tear ridden eyes. You were back at the restaurant. For the most part, everything was back to normal. It was darker and people were failing to not steal glances at you and V. V was still standing next to you. He gently closed his book, then turned to you. Concern and worry were radiating off of him. V pulled you into a hug as soon as he saw your tears. You gripped V’s hand for dear life as he led you out of the restaurant.

As soon as V opened the door, Griffon flew around the house. You headed to your bedroom with Shadow behind. You collapsed on the bed, burying your head in your pillow. You released the anxiety and fear you have been holding. You screams and cries could be heard throughout your home. To help calm yourself you cuddled with Shadow, letting her fur catch your tears. Shadow’s purring was the perfect lullaby to fall asleep to, especially after today.

“...H-HE-LP!...HELP!...He-help...” Those pleas were all the encouragement you needed to continue to get through the door. Nothing was going to stop you this time. You mustered your strength then delivered one final strike against the door. The barrier dissipated, as it pushed you away one last time. The door became ajar. 

Regret consumed you as soon as you stepped through the door. A blinding flash brought you to an abandoned building. Someone similar looking to the man from the restaurant was interrogating someone who looked like you. The person being interrogated was severely beaten. It was obvious the man was doing whatever he pleased. No one was around to stop him. It wouldn’t be long until the person was dead. In an attempt to stop him, you jumped on his back. He threw you across his back. Somehow you merged with the one you were trying to save.

The man deeply slashed your abdomen. He was merciless. It felt as if he was never going to stop until he got what he wanted. Not once did his sinister smile disappear. If anything, it grew with each of your screams, your pleas. You screamed for help but no one came.

The strike to your head was excruciating. You gripped your head, screaming, as your mind released every single memory that was sealed away. Meeting V at the grocery store. Tracking Carmilla. Working with V. Your fight with Carmilla. Your captivity. All of them. It was too much for your mind to process at once.

V raced to your bedroom as soon as he heard you scream. Quickly, he studied the room and determined nothing was amiss. V attempted to loosen the ironclad grip you had on your head. V winced from pain when you grabbed his hands. It was possible you may have sprained his finger or two. V didn’t care. He stayed with you, reminding you how strong you are and how you can get through this.

Once you were calm V asked if you were hurt. Hysterically, you described your nightmare. The torture, the pain. The rush of other dreams within it. It felt so real to you. As if it happened to you as you dreamt it. V tried to explain that even though you were attacked in your dream it doesn’t mean the attacks actually happened. You were having none of it. You described every attack explicitly while tracing each one on your body.

V tried his best to calm you. Nothing he did relieved you. Not one bit. Your mind was frantically processing the memories it released. You couldn’t think straight. V tried to hug you but you pushed him away. His hurt expression made you feel worse, but you had no choice. You needed to stay away from him. You weren’t sure if the one in front of you was V or a Soul Snatcher; friend or enemy.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shakily, you cocked your gun, indicating you weren’t playing around. Shadow immediately placed herself between you and V. Griffon babbled about you not recognizing V or them. You didn’t care. You just needed to know what was going on.

“(Y/N) put the gun down and I’ll answer all of your questions.” Your defensive aggressiveness from before your memories were sealed has returned. There was no way V could weasel his way to convince you nothing was going on. To V this situation felt like he was reliving his very first encounter with you.

Your eyes narrowed with suspicion. Would he attack once you lower your gun? Will he actually tell the truth? What if this was a Soul Snatcher? Too many questions raced through your mind. You had no idea what part of yourself to listen to. Fuck it. You needed answers. “Lie or attack, I’ll make you regret it.”

For your sake V had to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. He recalled when he gave you the ring you were wearing. Hearing your argument made V realize it was pointless to retell the time you spent together. He was determined to prove he wasn’t a Soul Snatcher. No matter what. The only thing he could think of that a Soul Snatcher couldn’t do was summon Nightmare. Doing so caused quite a scare for your neighbors.

Your neighbors panic soon turned into silence. Irritated tension was all either of you could feel. Both of you wanted to say something. Neither of you knew what to say or where to start. So you both stayed quiet, trying to figure out what to say. The silence was unbearable for Griffon but he managed to stay quiet. God knows what either of you would do if Griffon said anything.

You took one deep breath, then decided to tell V everything about your time in captivity. The torture, the Soul Snatchers involved, your thoughts. Everything. You turned yourself away from V when you started crying. V attempted to reach over to comfort you but you indicated for him to stay where he was. You didn’t want to be touched by anyone. 

V wanted to hold you. He wanted to do anything and everything he could to remind you you’re safe with him. But he fought himself from doing anything that would make you uncomfortable. He knew you would fulfill your promise if he did anything you saw as a threat.

If V had to be honest, he didn’t want to explain what happened when he found you. Besides the fact he was like you; not wanting to show weakness or vulnerability. He isn’t proud of how he reacted. That night was a tornado to him. It was fast and destructive yet it was a blur. Still. It was no excuse to not tell you. You told him everything. Now it was his turn. V sucked it up and reluctantly told you what happened.

You listened to V, unsure how to take it. At first, you were terrified to hear you almost died. (You remembered you made the choice but it was frightening to think about.) Soon fright turned into anger. You blamed V for having your memories sealed. Not long after, you questioned if being with V was the right thing for you. You even questioned if you would be with V after everything that happened. 

V sat across from you, waiting for you to say anything. He was aware you were angry. He knew you would need time to process everything. It could take a long time, but V was more than willing to do whatever he could to help you. Except for one thing.

“I-I...I don’t know how to take in all of this...I-I think I need to sp-spend some time away from y-you. To absorb everything I just remembered..a-and what we just talked about...I also have to think of what’s be-est for me.” V’s heart broke in two. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was at a loss for words. He was unable to argue with you.

“Don’t.” You froze. V’s hand was hovering above yours. Without touching you, he guided your hand to lower itself, then release the clothing you were holding. Was V going to convince you to stay with him? You couldn’t tell. You knew he was going to say something. He was close to you but stepped away. “You should stay here. I’ll leave.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Why would he leave? You should be the one leaving. You whipped your head around to see if V was really leaving. He was. Already he grabbed his bag, then his book. It didn’t take long for him to gather the rest of what he needed. Once he was packed, he approached you. You anticipated him doing some gesture to say goodbye. Your heart broke when he did nothing except say his goodbye. With each step V took away from you, you felt more alone than ever before. When he was completely gone you believed you made the wrong choice.

[nightshade-minho]

3021:Starless

-(1)-

Warnings: Nothing much for this chapter. Scenes of mild violence. Future smut. Please view the teasers before reading this part.

Word Count: 2.9k

Hyunjin x fem! Reader, Minho x fem! Reader, Jisung x fem! Reader

A rainy summer’s day. 

Oxymoronic, yes...but what was Neos, if not a city of oxymorons? 

The larger part of the city was crammed with skyscrapers, packed atop each other. The streets were filled with rich cyborgs and their androids, chatting away on their neodisks and living their glamorous, expensive lives. 

The rain definitely wasn’t affecting them too much. Water-resistant metal plating and advanced technology made it possible for them to live their lives as usual, despite the heavy downpour.

However, things were different out here. The outskirts of the city were a lot quieter, the streets empty and deserted. There were no skyscrapers here, just sad-looking buildings and dilapidated abodes. Here, nearly everyone was made of junk and scrap metal dating back to 2032- the rain was a huge inconvenience for most.

As you walked down the street, you made sure to wrap your cloak around you tighter. You couldn’t afford any repairs at the moment. 

Though that would change soon, once you finally manage to earn your Phantom license. You smiled as you thought about the crescents you’d win with each bounty. You’d finally be able to buy a new arm...

Two fingers in your right arm had stopped working years ago- you’d made do with it till now, but being a Phantom meant that you would need your bionic arm to be fully functional, since it was your dominant one. You’d learnt to use your left hand to carry out most tasks- though it was flesh and bone, and weaker than your right, it was definitely more reliable. It never glitched out on you. 

Sometimes, you wished you were entirely human. Being one of the 98% of Xaliens who were technologically advanced definitely had its perks- but it was also expensive. You were glad for Mr. Han’s discounts. 

You continued walking, the icy cold air biting at your skin, and making you shiver. It was supposed to be summer. You sighed, humming a tune to yourself as you made your way to the shop.

Beep.

Fuck.

That sound could only mean one thing. You paused, the low beeping resonating in your head as you inhaled deeply.

1...2...3-

You swivelled around, slipping your dagger out from your waistband in the process and swinging it at the spindly-legged automaton that had been creeping up on you. As soon as the knife made contact with its large, blue eye, it started glitching, convulsing for a few seconds before dying.

Your chest heaved, eyes wide as you stared at the dead machine. Inching closer, you ripped your knife out of its metal, tucking it back into your pants as you crouched to inspect it closely. 

Your suspicions were correct. You pulled your neodisk out of your pocket, scrolling through the news. It only confirmed what you already knew. 

It was a Zenx, though it seemed to be a newer model...it looked a lot more advanced than the ones you'd seen photos of. The arrival of the mysterious, hostile androids had been all the news were filled with, recently. Nobody knew where they came from, who was controlling them or what their purpose was. The royal family had offered the people in the poorer areas of the city a generous amount of crescents if they caught the Zenx and sent them along to the palace for observation. The ones who would sign up were to be called the Phantoms.

It was the very reason you were walking down the street to the workshop, despite it being past curfew. Tomorrow, the applications to be a Phantom would have to be filled and submitted. If you wanted to be a cyber-assassin, you’d have to have two fully functioning arms.

You flipped the machine over onto its side. Unlike most androids, these weren’t humanoid. They were strangely creature-like. You took note of the numbers and symbols on its plated metal belly, mentally jotting them down. Wrenching the plate off of it, you pocketed it with a groan. Maybe Jisung could take a look at it, tell you what you needed to know.

You stood up, sighing as you turned around- only to be met with a dark figure standing right in front of you.

Your eyes narrowed, tilting your head at the hooded man and rolling your eyes.

"I know it's you, Minho."

He let out a grunt of frustration, whipping the hood of his cloak off. "Its unfair, really. You're literally scared of nothing...you sure you're a cyborg and not an android?"

"Hmm...You had your hood on. Maybe I would have been scared if you'd shown me your face."

"Har di har." Minho chuckled. "You know you like my face, baby."

You wrinkled your nose. "Don't call me that. And I don't...like your face-" You stammered a little as he came closer, nose almost brushing against yours.

"Yeah? Why are you blushing, then?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to keep your composure. "I am not blushing." You put your hands on his chest and pushed him away slightly.

He shrugged, looking past you at the upturned machine.

"Woah. Is that a Zenx?"

"Maybe."

"You killed it? Alone? Without any government issued weapons?" He asked incredulously.

You glared at him. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"It's just a little surprising, that's all." He smirks at you. "You're a bit of a badass, hm? But all I have to do to get you flustered is lean a little closer."

You frowned at him. "That's not true." 

Your watch suddenly let out a beep, and you grunted, standing up and scowling at him.

"I have somewhere to go. Leave me alone." You started walking away from him, sighing as you heard his footsteps follow you. Whipping around, you crossed your arms.

"Honestly, do you have nothing better to do? Are you stalking me or something?"

"You wish, princess. I just happen to be in the same places you are."

You pressed your lips together, rolling your eyes and turning away again, walking a little faster...but he was still right next to you, strolling along beside you as he hummed under his breath.

You stopped, making him stop as well.

"Fucking leave."

"No can do. You think I'm just going to leave you alone, especially after you just got attacked? These streets aren't safe." There was no teasing lilt to his words anymore, and his voice was firm as he looked at you. "I'm walking you to wherever you're going."

"No you're not." You said, trying to keep your tone chilly. "I can take care of myself, okay? I don't need you. I don't need anyone." You snarled.

"Calm down."

"You're lucky my middle finger isn't working." You grumbled under your breath, turning away and walking as fast as you could. 

A minute later, you looked behind you, but he was gone. You pushed down the slight disappointment in your heart, and continued on your path.

A few minutes later, you were finally there. You knocked twice on the shutter, tapping your foot impatiently.

Seconds passed by with no response. You couldn’t shout, since you were supposed to be inconspicuous. About four whole minutes passed before he finally opened the shutter.

“Finally! What the fuck, Sung? You knew I was coming at this time.”

He fiddled with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. “I know. It’s just...I feel like Dad’s getting worse. I was feeding him.”

Your glare disappeared, your expression softening. “Oh...sorry.”

Jisung looked up at you. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I just...feel guilty. I could have signed up earlier, if I hadn’t spilled coffee on my hand...I’m so fucking careless.”

“Y/n. You’re doing more than enough to help.” He met your eyes, sighing and looking away again.  “Seriously...you don’t have to do this.”

You shook your head firmly. “I will. Mr. Han’s the closest thing I’ve had to a father. I’m not prepared to lose him yet. Besides, once I become a Phantom, I’ll have more crescents than I know what to do with.”

You moved closer, slipping your hood off and brushing a hand through your hair as you gave him a soft smile. “I’ll have more than enough money to take him to the city, and get him admitted in one of the best hospitals. We can finally move out of this shitty neighborhood. I promise you.”

Jisung gave you a weak smile, watching you as you pushed past him, making your way to the reclining chair in the corner of the workshop and collapsing onto it. 

You held your hand out. “But in order to make crescents, I need to become a Phantom. And to do that, I need my hand to work right, and I need to be fully charged to pass all my tests tomorrow.”

He chuckled, rolling his sleeves up and flopping onto his chair, rolling over to you. He took your arm, turning it slightly and inspecting it closely. 

“Hmm, you really do need a new arm.” He hummed under his breath, grabbing his oculus from the table and peering through it. He held your arm with one hand, using his other to lift each of your fingers individually. 

“Hmm, okay. I think I have replacements for your fingers lying around here somewhere...” He rolled to his desk, rummaging through a drawer and pulling out a box filled with prostheses. He scoured it for a few minutes before finally pulling out the appropriate parts.

Coming back over to you, he cocked his head to the side.

“What’s wrong? You look...sad.”

He felt his heart beat a little faster as you looked at him, making eye contact with him. “I’m not sad...just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“You don’t need to be. You’re going to be great. I’ve never met someone so strong, powerful and badass as you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve never met someone as kind and funn-”

“Can you lovebirds get a room or something?”

You looked up, laughing as you spotted Jeongin enter, his apron streaked with soot. Jisung’s cheeks turned redder than a tomato, his grip on your hand loosening a little.

“Seriously, though. Jisung, you’re supposed to be working on her, not gushing over her-”

“Hey! Remember you’re supposed to be my a-assistant!” He stuttered. “So instead of running your mouth, come over here and hand me my tools.”

Jeongin smiled, walking forward and lifting the wire up from the floor. Plugging it into the socket, he handed the other end to Jisung.

Jisung stood up, gently brushing your hair behind your ear, heart jumping in his chest as he did so. Exposing the circular socket on your head, he attached the wires to it, turning to arrange his tools as you made yourself a little more comfortable. The whirring sound combined with Jisung’s humming had a calming effect on you, your eyes slowly closing. 

Jisung watched as you fell asleep, sighing as he got to work, detaching your arm with his screwdriver as gently as he could. 

“You’re so fucking whipped.” Jeongin called, handing Jisung the prostheses.

“Shut up.” Jisung growled, adjusting the oculus attached to his eye as he unscrewed your middle finger and thumb, attaching the new ones with some difficulty. Your arm was an old make- how he wished he had the crescents to get you a new one. 

You’ve always been his...guardian angel, for lack of a better word. He wished, for once, he could be the one to protect you. Jisung admired your strength, your tenacity and determination. However...sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered why he couldn’t be the same. 

“Seriously though, Hyung...you really need to stop giving her those heart-eyes and just confess, already.”

Jisung looked up at Jeongin, frown settling on his features. “It’s not that simple.” He glanced over at you, eyes still closed as the machine charged the processor embedded in your brain. “She’s not the type to be bothered with things like romance. We’re just friends. In fact, I’m pretty sure she once said I’m like a brother to her.”

Jeongin stayed silent, not wanting to say much more. 

There wasn’t really any point in protesting really, because what Jisung said was true, more or less. Love just wasn’t on your agenda. 

Jisung shook his head at the boy’s silence, affixing your arm back to you and humming as he did so. He stole glances at your peaceful face from time to time, his heart jumping in his chest.

Maybe one day.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the light in the room. Sitting up a little, your eyes landed on Jisung, his back facing you as he worked on something at his desk. You cleared your throat, causing him to turn around and look at you.

“Ah! I didn’t realize you woke up...” He came over, unplugging you. “How are you feeling? Fingers?”

“Yeah, I feel so much more refreshed now.” You lifted up your arm, moving your fingers and making a small sound of delight. “Thank you so much.” You smiled up at him, getting up to wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Jisung felt his heartbeat speed up, hesitating as he let his hands rest on your waist. All his senses were flooded with you...he almost forgot how to breathe for a second.

It felt too good to have you in his arms. It was scary.

When you finally pulled away, you went over to the corner to grab your cloak, fastening it around you as he felt his heart drop. He didn’t want you to leave yet.

“Hey...wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine, Sung. You don’t have to do that...besides Mr. Han needs you.”

“Um, Dad’s asleep. Please? Jeongin already left...and I just wanna talk. We haven’t had a proper talk in ages.”

You sighed, pausing. “Fine.”

Jisung walked alongside you as you kicked a small pebble with your foot. The subway tunnels were long abandoned, and you often came here for some peace and quiet. It was also the safest place to take a walk, considering it was after curfew.

“So...how nervous are you? For tomorrow?”

“Just...a little.”

“Don’t be. I know you’ll do great. I can come watch, right?”

“Yeah, I think it’s open to the public...which is why I really don’t want to mess up. I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of so many people.”

“Hmm...don’t worry, it’s going to be a piece of cake for you. I’ve seen you train, Y/n. You’ll be able to handle any challenge they throw at you.”

Suddenly, you remembered the weight in your pocket, eyes widening. “Oh wait...um. I almost forgot to show you...before I came here, I crossed paths with one of them.”

“Them? What?”

“A Zenx. I killed it.”

“Wha...what!?” Jisung spluttered, shocked at the nonchalance with which you uttered those words. You pulled out the piece of metal from your pocket, handing it to him. He stared at it with wide eyes, hands trembling a little as he took it from you, turning it over as he inspected it. 

“Y/n...this looks so different from what I’ve seen online...”

“Yeah. They seem to be getting more advanced. I wonder who’s upgrading them...”

“Hmm, it doesn’t have to be a who...but it’s possible. Y/n, you really killed it alone? That could have been dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please. You’re the one who said I was capable enough.”

“Yeah, but...” He sighed. “I’m sorry. Just a little concerned, that’s all.” He smiled at you. “Now I’m even more convinced that you’re going to be amazing tomorrow.”

You smiled, looking at the floor as you continued along the tunnel.

“So?” You gestured to the plate in Jisung’s hand.

“I left my oculus back home.” He pocketed it, “I’ll inspect it at the workshop... I’ve been reading up on the Zenx lately. Very little information....not much to go off of, but I suspect that...”

You squinted a little as Jisung went off on a tangent, gesticulating as he talked...you tuned him out. Your eyes had noticed something. You blinked, wondering if it was a trick of the light. 

Something...was lying on the tracks. Humanoid, it was panting....you stopped Jisung with your arm stretched out, staring at the body that was a short distance away from you. Jisung looked at you with a confused expression, following your gaze and gasping as he noticed it too.

“What the FUCK is that-”

“Shh!”

The figure was lying facedown, writhing a little as it struggled to get to its feet. 

You and Jisung shared a look, considering what to do. Putting a finger on your lips, you slowly approached the body, carefully trying your best to not make a sound. Jisung followed, trying his best to be quiet...but as he took another step with his heavy boot, the stones crunched beneath his feet.

The figure looked up, eyes landing right on you, who was closer to it.

Beautiful, onyx eyes..shiny hair and plump lips...you recognized it. Him.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His face twisted into an expression filled with fear and confusion. “P-please...help me...” He begged, crawling a little closer. Jisung grabbed your wrist, trying to pull you away a little, but you stayed put, eyes trained on the man in front of you, brain going into overdrive as you tried to figure out what was happening.

“I- Y/n, he’s-”

“H-hwang Hyunjin.” The man choked out, his voice glitching a little as he collapsed right in front of you, eyes closed as he fell unconscious.

H88.

[lovingmyselfcore]

Chapter III; You Ever Just Shoot Yourself? No? Me either...

Is this even good?? Not feeling very confident about this, it always seems better in my head

“Jude! How are you feeling?” Lilliver’s voice was way too loud for so early in the morning.

I’d just arrived, after a lovely morning filled with throwing up, Vivi’s barely contained laughter and voicemails from Madoc yelling at me to show up at work.

I threw myself down next to Garett on the couch and glared at her, “This is your fault.” I pointed a finger at her and glared.

Van snorted, “You’re the one who decided to get that drunk. We had nothing to do with that.”

“She invited me out, ergo, she is to blame.”

“That makes sense,” Garett said sarcastically and I turned my glare on him, a jolt of satisfaction running through me when he actually edged away with his hands raised in defense.

“So,” Van started, his eyes gleaming with laughter, “Baby Greenbriar was the one who brought you home, huh?”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, Cardan drove me home.”

“Anything you want to share with the class?” I didn’t like his tone at all.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You said that you two despise each other?” Lilliver reminded me, sitting down on my other side.

“We do.” I said with a snarl, “I wouldn’t be all that broken up about it if I never have to see him again.”

None of them responded and I felt like I had to justify myself. “I didn’t ask for him to drive me home.”

Garrett opened his mouth but was interrupted when Lilliver’s phone rang.

“It’s Dain.” She said, hurrying to answer it.

Garrett, Van, and I all went stiff, watching her face as she answered. Despite her sitting right next to me I couldn’t hear Dain, only her occasional yes, or no sirs.

When she hung up she met Van’s eyes before looking at Garett, avoiding me entirely. “He wants her in it.”

Van leaned forward, brows furrowed. “She’s so new.”

“I know.”

“How much does he want us to tell her?” Garrett asked.

The three of them were acting like I wasn’t there and, honestly, it was pissing me off.

I moved to ask what exactly it was when Lilliver spoke again, “We’re not telling her anything. He is.”

~~~

“Is anybody going to tell me what the hell is happening?”

I felt like I’d been asking that question for hours, despite Dain’s call only being 10 minutes ago. It didn't help that none of them were answering me.

Their silence was making me nervous, what was it I was about to be 'in'? The Greenbriar's were a family of narcissistic, rich air-heads but here were Garrett, Van, and Lilliver acting like I was about to find out they needed a new hitwoman, it was unsettling.

I was still sitting on the couch, at Garrett and Lilliver's insistence. They'd left to accompany Dain from the Greenbriar mansion to where we were meeting to talk. Van and I were the only two left in the trailer, and he was pacing the length of the tiny room. He looked worried.

As I opened my mouth to question this entire situation again he halted, turning to face me and raising a hand to quiet me.

"Look, Jude," Van said finally, taking pity on me. "I know you think the Greenbriar's are all shallow and mindless, but there is so much you don't know about them." I felt annoyance shoot through me, he was acting like I was some stupid child. "How they got so much power and money. How so unlike the personas they display on the show are from the calculating creatures underneath. They got their power, Jude." He held out a hand to help me up. I didn't take it.

He moved towards the door and before he opened it he spoke so quietly I strained to hear him.

"You're about to learn what they do to keep it."

The room suddenly became twenty degrees cooler.

~~~~

Van and I arrived before Dain and the others did. 

It was a small house, only a few miles from the trailers and hidden behind a small forest. I wondered what was taking them so long to get here as Van swung the door open.

My first thought was how weird this was. A three-room house. The main room, the one we were currently in, a table with chairs, a singular bookcase filled with bins and containers, and no real signs of life aside from the barren kitchen tucked in a corner. The next room was curtained off. The third room was a tiny bathroom.

Van closed the door behind me and sat heavily in one of the chairs. He looked at me when I made no movement and gestured to the chair next to him.

"Sit." A dry laugh, "Stay awhile."

"Van," I said quietly, my voice still echoing in the room. "What is this place."

He sighed, "The 'war room'." The what? "We have all our meetings with Dain here."

"Why not just at the trailers? Or the mansion? Or literally anywhere else?" 

He met my eyes, voice so serious it startled me. "Anybody could be listening there."

What. The. Fuck. This is insanity. Van was acting like these were secrets worth more than my life. Like the Greenbriar's were harboring some kind of dark and even deadly secret.

The door opened and Van stood up, bowing his head as Dain entered. 

“Sir,” Van said, motioning to an empty chair. Dain sat, his eyes never leaving me.

His gaze made me feel gross like it was coating my skin in a layer of filth I couldn't get rid of.

Lilliver and Garrett sat down, Lilliver shooting me an encouraging look, Garrett not looking at me at all.

"I heard you're a clever liar, Jude."

I raised my eyebrows, meeting his probing gaze, "Am I?"

"You're good at fighting?"

"Why don't you find out?"

Lilliver, Van, and Garrett all looked at me, their eyes open wide.

Dain's voice got dangerously low, "Don't talk to me like that. It won't end well for you. I promise."

Van's hand wrapped around my upper arm, forcing me to break Dain's gaze.

"What do you about them?" Dain asked, gesturing to the three of them.

I didn't know what to say. His tone told me that whatever I said would not be the right answer. That I wasn't going to impress him.

"I don't know exactly what they do for you," I ceded. I hated giving him that but it seemed like the only right answer.

"What they do for me?" He leaned forward, towards me. "They do whatever I tell them to. You do whatever I tell you to, isn't that right."

I stiffened, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He grinned, "It's not that hard to understand. You do whatever I want, whenever I want. And you never question me. Understood?" 

I didn't respond and he lunged across the table, grabbing my arm and squeezing tight enough to bruise. "If you repeat anything that is said in this room, to anybody, ever-" He trailed off, tightening his grip.

I nodded, it was the only thing I could do. I was sure I could fight him, but from the way Dain had been acting with the others, I doubted they would fight on my side.

  He released my arm, leaning back, reclining in the chair in a way that reminded me too much of Cardan.

"I need you to do something for me. But first, I suppose you need to know some background."

Lilliver looked to Dain, once he nodded she spoke, "We do anything to help Dain. With anything."

"Our main objective is to allow him to keep his power within the family," Van said.

"There are a lot of things happening within my family that are not within the public eye," Dain said, eyes scrutinizing every move I made in my seat. "My father is sick." I raised my eyebrows, Eldred hadn't seemed sick every time I'd seen him. Granted, it was only on the show, I haven't seen him in person in a long time.

"Which means the Greenbriar's are all out for each other." Garrett said, "We are fighting to be sure Dain comes out on top of that fight."

I furrowed my eyebrows and held my hands up, "What do you gain in you 'come out on top'?"

"My family has their fingers in a lot of different pies," Dain said, "A lot of power in a lot of different communities. A lot of connections, and a lot of dirty money." He raised his eyebrows like he knew I understood what exactly he meant.

"From what?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know. 

Dain shrugged casually, "Blackmail, the occasional 'disappearance', drugs and the like."

I froze. I'd assumed as much but I still didn't like the sound of 'occasional disappearance'. “No,” I said, standing. “No, I’m out. This is insane.” I gestured to them, “You are all insane and I’m leaving. Find someone else to do your dirty work.” I spat at Dain. “If you even need one. You’ve got three people who for some reason are wrapped around your finger.”

I walked towards the door when an arm shot out and stopped me. I whirled, attempting to knock Garrett’s feet out from under him. He lept back bringing an arm up to deflect my punch. We fought for what must have been only a minute before Van and Lilliver helped him wrangle me. 

My struggle was futile, they had me pinned.

Dain strode forward, unaffected as ever. He stuck two fingers under my chin pulling my head up. He scanned my face before purring, “Feisty,”

I resisted the urge to spit at him. With Lilliver, Garrett and Van undoubtedly all armed and definitely willing to take me down if Dain even raised a finger, that wouldn’t end well for me.

“Do you care about your family, Jude?” He asked. “What are their names again?”

He dropped my chin and went to sit back down. They forced me back into my chair before Garrett and Lilliver sat down themselves, Van was at my back, ready to tackle me if so much as blinked wrong in Dain’s direction.

He held up his hands as if he had counted to ten, “Madoc and Oriana.” He put two fingers down. “Vivienne and her girlfriend. Heather right?” Two more fingers. How did he know- “Your weaker other half, Taryn, of course.” Another finger. Cue a low growl at me. “And that adorable little brother of yours. Oak. Imagine what I could have done to them if you decide to tell anybody what happened here. Imagine it, Jude.” I saw red, shooting forward in my seat. 

I wasn’t fast enough, Van reached out and caught me, tugging me forcefully back against the chair. I struggled against him until a click. It was quiet, but there was no mistaking it.

I leaned back a little more and my suspicions were confirmed. This absolute motherfucker had pulled a gun on me.

Dain grinned, “So, Jude. Tell me. What are you going to do? It doesn’t seem to me like you have very many options.”

~~~~~~

"The biggest threat to Dain is Balekin." Van had sat down, leaving me alone in my seat. Dain had instructed him to leave it on the table and he’d done so. Resting his hand on top of it. Right in my line of sight, where I couldn’t forget about it. Not like I’d forget even if he put it away.

Lilliver was talking now as if what had just happened was just a fever dream. They were explaining to me more what was happening. Not like it was really helping.

His lip curled in distaste, "Elowyn is my father's not-so-secret favorite as I'm sure you know." I nodded. "But she doesn't want it. None of my sisters do, for their own individual reasons. But, Balekin wants it."

They didn't even mention Cardan.

This was insane. There was no way they did what my wild imagination was acting like they do. I'm being dramatic. This isn’t really happening.

"Prove yourself," Dain said suddenly.

The intensity in his tone startled me, "What?"

"You know things now. But I want you to prove you aren't going to run to any of my family and tattle." He stood up and walked around the table until he was towering directly above me. "Would you kill for me, Jude?" His voice was soft.

I didn't answer. How the hell was I supposed to answer. Well, I knew what he wanted me to say.

"I don't think there's anyone for her to kill right now, sir." Lilliver's was an angel. A perfect angel trying to save me from whatever was going to happen if she hadn't. Dain and I both looked at her.

He sighed, very dramatically, and Jude was reminded again that he was Cardan's brother.

"I suppose you're right." Suddenly he held his hand out. “Give me that gun.”

"Sir?" He asked. Van and Lilliver looked just as confused but he didn't respond.

Garrett pulled a gun out of his pocket and I edged away as Dain flicked the safety off.

He motioned for me to take it, "Shoot yourself."

"What?" Van asked. Lilliver made a distressed choking noise.

I evaluated him and the situation. The soft sunlight filtering in through the small window above the kitchen, reflecting off Dain's golden hair. He was haloed, almost like an angel. An angel with his own cadre of spies against his own family, who have undoubtedly done unspeakable things for him. An angel holding out a gun and instructing me to shoot myself with a bored expression. 

I stood up, he was taller than me but I stretched until I could almost meet him. He wasn't kidding. He wanted me to shoot myself, and I had a sinking feeling that was the least of what was going to happen to me. What I was going to do.

I took the gun, bouncing it in my hand, getting a feel for it. "Where?"

His eyes flashed with what, if I didn't know better, might have been admiration. “Your arm will be fine.”

I held the gun up, pointing it at my opposite arm. What. The. Fuck. Was I doing? This is insanity, that was all I could think about, it was running through my brain on loop.

Then I squeezed.

The shot echoed, bouncing around like a scream in a canyon. I don’t know if I screamed, I don’t know how they reacted initially. I do know, however, that to this day, in a small cabin tucked away from everyone there’s a bloodstain on the floor, right under a thick oak table. A girl died there. A girl whose biggest concern was fighting her adopted father about having to be in the same room as her high school nemesis. A girl that wasn’t going to come back.

Lilliver was holding a cloth against my arm, muttering something to herself. I refused to blackout. That would be showing too much weakness.

We were on the floor of the cabin. They were crouched over me. I had no idea where Dain had gone, and even though I should, I didn’t really care.

“You’ll be fine, Jude. I know how to take care of a gunshot wound.” Despite what had happened today, I didn’t fight her. I didn’t trust her. But I didn’t fight her.

“You did good. You did good.” Garrett’s voice was almost indistinguishable from the rush in my head.

My ears were filled with water that was soaking into my brain. It was going to come bubbling out of my mouth, my nose. I was going to drown within my own body.

Van’s hand wrapped around mine. “Welcome to the Shadows.”

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be in it!):

@ladyofbloodandroses @foreverscreaming @cultofvamps

[bonjour-rainycity]

The Long Way Around ~ Chapter 14

Link to previous part: https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/624936041495822336/the-long-way-around-chapter-13-link-to-previous

Pairing: Jasper x Reader

Word Count: 1998

Warnings: None

Y/n’s POV

It’s dark when we reach the waterfall, and I’ve barely said a word. I spoke once to request a hunting stop, but aside from that, nothing. I know Jasper can feel my frustration, as well as my sadness. But, whether out of fear or respect, he gives me my space. When we reach the top of the cliff, he gives me a nervous glance.

“What are you thinking?”

I sigh, sitting criss-cross on the hard rock. Jasper sits as well a few inches in front of me. “I don’t like it. You, Esme, and Carlisle going all the way to Italy? I’ve heard the stories, Jazz, I know the Volturi are bad news.”

He shakes his head. “While they have a fearsome reputation, the Volturi are a generally respected group. They act for the good of all vampires, not just selfishly.”

Now it’s my turn to protest. “I don’t believe that. The implications of what Aro has done…it doesn’t bode well for this trip.”

Jasper smiles hesitantly, tapping a finger against his head. “If they’re planning something bad, I’ll know.”

I bite my lip, feeling no better than I did at the start of this conversation. “Even if you do have  a warning, you three will be ridiculously outnumbered! Your training and experience isn’t enough to overcome the odds of three against twenty. And even if it’s only the few core members, they still have Jane. I just,” I sigh, feeling helpless. “I just wish I was going with you.” Or better yet, that you weren’t going at all.

“I’m glad you’re staying here.” Jasper’s voice is confident, and I bristle. “Not because I doubt your capabilities,” he hurries, feeling my annoyance, “but because I worry of Aro’s reaction. Undoubtedly, he would pit you and Jane against each other to see who came out on top, and no one in that scenario has a good outcome. The weaker of you two would be disposed of somewhere down the line due to the threat they present, and the stronger would find a place in Aro’s guard. It’s best to keep you out of Aro’s presence for as long as possible.”

I groan, knowing he’s right. “But then how am I supposed to feel comfortable with you going to Aro? What if he decides he wants you to join him?”

“He does,” Jasper says simply, and I shoot him a look of exasperation. “But not as much as he wants Alice or Edward,” he continues, sounding calm and self-assured. “Aro knows that if he somehow obtained me during my trip to Italy, he would outrage my family and lose any chance of acquiring Alice and Edward, the true prizes. That’s why I feel relatively comfortable going to Volterra. Aro will have to make a choice, and I’m betting that he chooses to play the long game.”

“The long game Carlisle is going to try to end,” I deadpan.

Jasper offers me a smile. “Exactly.”

I sigh, still not feeling good about the situation. “You seem too confident.”

He leans forward, stopping only when his face is centimeters from mine. “I’m confident because I know that, no matter what happens on this trip, I will do everything in my power to make it back to you. Anything else just isn’t an option.”

I physically feel myself soften at his words and conviction, and close the space between us to kiss him. Too soon, he pulls back.

“How do you feel? I mean,” he shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rest on my neck. “I know how you feel, but do you want to talk about it? Battles are hard, and everything you’re feeling is perfectly normal. Lord knows I’ve felt it.”

I close my eyes and sigh, allowing his touch to bring me comfort. “I don’t know…everything we did today…all the people we killed…it all seems so distant, like it didn’t actually happen. It’ll probably hit me sometime when it’s really inconvenient.” I force a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. I’m not good with the heavy.

Jasper shakes his head, emphatic. “You did not kill anyone.”

I smile sadly. “I may as well have. I’m the reason Hélene and the other man are dead, as well as the guy whose arm I held while Arthur-” I swallow, and cut off my words.

Jasper pulls me in a tight hug. “I know you know this, but it really was kill or be killed. There were no other options.”

“I know,” I sigh, recognizing the truth in his words. Then, I soften, remembering his actions from earlier. “I probably wouldn’t have gotten out of there as unscathed as I did if it wasn’t for you. Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Always,” he growls, kissing me firmly. And I believe him. Deep in my gut, I know that Jasper would give his life for mine, just as I would unquestionably do the same for him. That realization, along with the intensity of what I feel for him, is a little terrifying. I pull back, trying to distract myself with a question I’ve been meaning to ask.

“What about you? Did the battle today bring up any unpleasant…memories?” I feel his hand tighten in mine, so I’m surprised to look up and see the serene smile on his face.

“Fights always do, but it gets better with time. Especially now that I know what and who I’m fighting for.” His words, impossibly sweet and honest, hit right to my heart. I kiss him once more and then push back so we’re lying on the ground, my head on his chest. I love the feel of his arms around me, holding me close. I force down the still-lingering worries about his trip to Volterra and allow myself to just enjoy this time with him.

{***}

When Carlisle calls, warning that we need to be back at the house in two hours, both of our moods take a dip. The jump to the bottom of the waterfall doesn’t cure our spirits and really just leaves us soggy. We take the precaution of hunting extensively on the way home, wanting Jasper to be as comfortable as possible on the long flight. Still, I know he’s in for a difficult time, Esme too. I can’t even imagine being on a small plane, in such close quarters to dozens of mouth-watering humans, with the air recycling their sweet scent back to me over and over and over…And humans get injured all the time, what if one accidentally cut their hand on a knife or broken glass? Then, the blood would flow freely from them, and the scent would be tantalizing, irresistible…I would have no choice but to rush forward and sink my teeth into their soft, breakable skin, and drink freely.

I groan, pushing the deer away from me, and Jasper chuckles.

“Not doing it for ya?”

I shake my head, biting my knuckle as the burn in my throat flares. “It’s my own fault. I was thinking about the plane.”

He nods in understanding and pushes me lightly back toward my kill. I obey and continue drinking. The burn subsides somewhat, but the flimsy, weak blood does not satisfy my true desire.

“It will be difficult,” Jasper continues, leaning back against a tree. “I’ve done it a few times before and it was awful, but hopefully it will be a little easier this time, especially now that we’ve prepared like this. Besides,” he grins, darting out to bring me a stray rabbit, which I eye with hesitation, but still bite. “I’ll be too distracted thinking of you to focus on the humans.”

I laugh and toss the drained rabbit a few feet ahead. “Cheesy!” He tackles me then, peppering my face with kisses, and we dissolve into laughter.

I pull back, staring up at his face from my spot in the dirt. “You better call me though, when you land. And take pictures. And bring me a postcard.”

He mock-salutes. “Yes ma’am.”

He feels my attraction and buries his face in my neck, laughing once more. “Really? Ma’am?”

“Stop,” I whine through laughs against my own and try to push him off of me. He refuses to budge though, instead bringing his head back up to kiss me passionately. I wrap my legs around his waist but, before deepening the kiss like I want to, I pull back. “How mad will Carlisle be if you’re like, twenty minutes late for your flight?”

Jasper chuckles, his hair close enough to tickle my face. “I’ve never quite seen Carlisle angry, but I wouldn’t like to test it.”

We push our time limit as long as we can, another three minutes, then bury our kills and head back to the house.

Carlisle and Esme are ready to go, but Jasper still has to gather a few things. I throw some necessities on the bed while he takes the quickest shower known to man and, before I know it, it’s 4:34 on the dot and Alice is calling to us, saying that they have to leave in the next five minutes or they’ll be late. With one hand holding mine and the other holding a small suitcase, Jasper descends the stairs, me trailing behind. The sight of an entire suitcase, small as it is, had been upsetting. I was under the impression that this would be a quick trip needing only a backpack or satchel, and the presence of the suitcase threw me. But Jasper assured me that it was just a precaution; that they really didn’t intend to stay long. But still, it seems the length of their trip, and the issue of their return, would depend on Aro’s good graces. I force these terrifying thoughts down. He will come back.

The family is gathered by the front door, and Carlisle has already retrieved the car. He and Edward are engaged in a tight embrace, and Rosalie lays her head on Esme’s shoulder, promising to tend to Esme’s garden while she’s away. The sight makes me deeply sad, and I feel Jasper’s thumb rubbing soothing circles over my hand in response. Jasper sets down his suitcase and allows himself to be pulled away by Arthur, and I wait my turn to see Carlisle and Esme. When the time comes, I hug them both tightly, begging them to be safe. Esme caresses my cheek and Carlisle gives my hand a squeeze, promising that they’ll see me soon. Carlisle advises me to continue working on my desensitization and expanding my ability while he’s gone, and I hear my new siblings echoing their support. At least it will give me something to do, to help distract me from…

I’ve put it off for as long as I can, but the moment is here. When I turn to Jasper, I have to clench my fists to keep from dissolving into sobs. But he knows, he can feel it. And I can see his own anguish plainly on his face. I reach for him, and he takes my face in his hands, much like he did yesterday in the woods, and kisses me. I grip at his sides and back, trying in vain to pull him closer. Emmett, who is usually prone to wolf-whistles and suggestive jokes, keeps noticeably silent. Even he must feel the pain of our goodbye.

With considerable effort, I pull back just far enough to rest my forehead against his. His golden eyes bore into mine, the sadness in them evident.

I try for a smile. “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.”

He brings my hands up to his lips for a gentle kiss. Then, he turns, grabs his suitcase, and stalks out the door. Carlisle and Esme are already there and, in the next second, the car is screeching down the driveway.

I take a step back, feeling like a hole has just been ripped through my chest.

A/n A sad one! Let me know what you thought and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

xx, 

Bjr

Next part:

https://bonjour-rainycity.tumblr.com/post/625552318938611712/the-long-way-around-chapter-15

Tag list: @puer-de-infinitate @charliestuff @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @one-thread-can-save-a-life @salsameter @enchantedcruelsummer @meashy-moo @sana-li @femflorals @80strashbag @tomisbaeholland @heyimval13 @triscuitcracker @deviantly-gayy

[katnissmellarkkk]

AN: Hiiiii, alright I’ve been working on this story since I posted my first chapter and, as it turns out, no surprise, this is gonna be longer than I originally expected. Probably like five-ish chapters? I’m not re-writing every chapter or part of Mockingjay if Peeta wasn’t hijacked, just snippets of the essential plotline and events if Peeta hadn’t been hijacked.... did that make sense? 

Alright, anyways, I wanna also take this time to say I definitely did not expect the amount of love I received on the first part of this and omg I’m so honored and touched. I really wasn't expecting you guys to be so supportive in this fandom. Thank you all so much, for liking, commenting and reblogging. It really made me so happy <3.

Also if you didn’t read part one and you want to, here’s the link. 

I hope everything’s going well for all you reading this! 

Also I need a title for this so any suggestions are more than welcome alright buh-bye.

Shattered Pearl

| Part One |

/

I know I've been shot. I felt it hit me, right underneath my chest. If I didn't vaguely remember standing in the tunnels, appealing to and pleading with the District Two men, trapped inside the Nut, the gunshot of a man standing behind us in the crowd, too cowardly to come closer and confront me to my face, if I didn't retain the image of seeing myself shot on television, I'd swear I'd been hit by one of the Capitol trains that once took me and Peeta district to district.

The thought of the train brought back memories I'd long held close to my heart. I had never spoken of nights shared between me and Peeta on the Victory Tour and prior to the Quarter Quell. Not to anyone. Not even Prim. It felt too personal and too vulnerable a memory to let anyone else claim it. For so long it was all I had to cling to, with him presumed dead and then only seen on Caesar's talkshow, tormented and a shell of the boy with the bread.

I miss him now, as I lay despondently, wherever I am. I feel a jabbing pain right where I predict I was shot, the injury feeling closer to a brutal beating than a penetration.

My mind whirls and flies and wracks itself up and down, backwards and forwards and side to side and somehow I can't remember even a split second where I felt the bullet enter into my body.

I feel my consciousness, my awareness, growing stronger now, slowly crawling in an upwards motion, like I was lying on the bottom of a lake and I'm only now floating to the top.

When my head breaks the surface, there's a bright, ugly, glaring light stinging my eyes and my first thought is one of comparison. Does Peeta experience this too, when he wakes up in his recovery room? Do they actually think that'll help anyone recover here, blasting unsettling yellow colors into their eyes as soon as they crack open? Is it their idea of a luxury, since everything and everyone else is so void of color here in Thirteen, like one of Peeta's drawings that have yet to be painted.

"Disorienting, huh?" I hear a familiar—so familar—voice laugh quietly. "I think Thirteen believes the more the lights hurt your eyes, the less we'll use them and the more energy they'll save in the end."

"Peeta?" I mean to murmur but instead my voice comes out in a whimper.

"Shh," he whispers, his voice all gentleness and sweetness now. The teasing, conversational edge is gone. He runs his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my sweat covered forehead, hoping the ministration will soothe me.

It takes me longer than it should to place, but it strikes me after a moment that his voice now reminds me of a different foreign place and a different wound and an altogether different time.

The confusion. The comforting, appeasing voice. The soft, tender gesture. It eerily reminds me of waking up in the cave, after having bled out from my head, only to find my body weak and Peeta's shockingly strong and the tables turning and him taking care of me.

My hands act to their own accord and cannot be stilled, no matter how comforting Peeta's fingers feel, sifting through my hair.

I fumble roughly with the bandages covering my left side, where the bullet must have hit, and I force my eyes wide open now, in spite of the still disturbing light overhead.

"What am I still doing here?" I ask before I can really register what I'm saying. At his confused and—now I can see his features better, with my eyes adjusting to the brightness—exhausted face, I clarify. "The bullet didn't kill me?" I look to him for confirmation.

"No," he promises smoothly, understanding my puzzlement now. "No, I promise you, the bullet didn't kill you."

"What happened?" I ask, my voice and body both still far weaker than I'm in any way comfortable with. "I think I blacked out after I was shot."

Peeta forces himself to give me a faint ghost of a smile. "Yeah, I imagine that happens when a bullet hits you in the side." He takes my hand in his and begins to softly kiss it, repeatedly. Finally he replies, "you were shot on live TV and everyone in the country saw you go down. Coin and Plutarch decided immediately to spin this and fake your death. But Cinna made your Mockingjay outfit bulletproof. The bullet never touched you," he assures before adverting his eyes as they grew watery with his words.

"Peeta," I start, my voice raspy as it's ever been.

"I don't think I was that scared in the Capitol," he blurts out as if I didn't speak. "Snow knew, he always knew, that you getting hurt would have been worse torture than anything else he could have ever done to me."

"How do you think I felt when Snow and his guards had you prisoner?" I shoot back before I can stop myself. His torture was harrowing enough without me making it all about myself. He flinches slightly at my words but tries to mask it, for my sake, no doubt. I reach out and squeeze his hand, my body's grip embarrassingly lame and in no way soothing. "I'm so sorry you had to see that."

"No," he automatically refutes. "Don't apologize to me. You have enough people putting their burdens on your shoulders without adding me to that list."

I swallow hard now, my memory starting to piece everything together and I remember suddenly that this is the first time I've seen Peeta since Coin's men had essentially interrogated him into hysteria.

I hadn't told him I was even going to Two. I didn't even tell him how long I'd be gone.

And then I got shot on camera. And—as I should have predicted—the rebels used this opportunity to their advantage.

I can imagine what that felt like for him. I remember on the hovercraft to and for the first few weeks in Thirteen. Refusing to eat. Refusing to speak. Hiding in closets and sleeping only sporadically. Picturing every single time I closed my eyes Peeta being beaten to death, Peeta being abused, Peeta crying out helplessly.

I wait for him to blink back his tears again before final speaking. "Can I apologize for not telling you I was going to Two in the first place?"

Something new crosses his features and in place of the fear, the agony, the pain, comes an almost sarcastic, satirical expression. "Please do, Sweetheart."

I roll my eyes instinctively when he calls me sweetheart. He'd only ever called me that in the past to get on my nerves or irritate me. "You sound like Haymitch," I can't help but point out.

"This isn't sounding like an apology for lying."

"I'm getting there."

"I've been waiting for days."

I raise my eyebrow mockingly. "So that's why you're here by my bedside?"

"Only reason. I'm out as soon as I get my reparation."

"Well in that case," I trail off, shrugging—and inwardly cringing at the movement before bringing his hand to my lips now and planting a kiss there. "I'm not apologizing then."

He laughs and I pretend to be put out, which works until I try to cross my arms in false indignation and involuntarily eject a loud gasp of pain from the way the motion upsets whatever is broken inside of me.

Peeta drops the ruse then too and stand from his chair, sitting on the side of my bed to get closer to me. "Hey, it's okay," he murmurs softly, cupping my cheek and turning my distressed face towards him now. "Breathe," he commands genially, leaning his forehesd against mine. "The pain will go away, Katniss, just breathe."

I let out a large breath but it only makes the pain worse and eventually I just grip the hand cupping my face and squeeze with all my might. The lame grip I felt ashamed of minutes before is now replaced with an adrenaline rush of strength and I nearly break Peeta's hand in my much smaller one.

He doesn't complain and begins to rub my back to calm me down. When the searing, paralyzing discomfort subsides, the first thing I utter is, "so if I never got actually shot, what is going on with my body?"

He strokes my face affectionately. "You have a bruised lung. Bruised ribs. And your spleen was ruptured so they removed that."

"So I'm without a spleen?" I realize, my voice raising involuntarily. For some reason, I'm petrified that a whole organ was taken out of my body and I had no say in it whatsoever.

"You don't need it, Katniss," Peeta quickly reassures.

I deflate then, not sure if I feel any better or not. Peeta's words suddenly come back to me.

"Katniss, these people aren't too different from the ones in the Capitol."

Would I trust Snow or his guards to remove my spleen? No. So should I be okay with Thirteen operating on me?

I shake my head, knowing this is redundant and ridiculous. My spleen was ruptured. They'd saved my life. I was being paranoid for nothing and I couldn't afford falsely accusing the very people I needed to survive. Especially not when they likely are what saved my life.

Peeta sees my face contort and the disheartenment etch itself across my features. Still remaining tender and cautious, he leans his own wounded, beaten face down and places kisses against my cheek.

I try to hold off but his lips bring a smile to mine, and even with all the confusion bubbling around my head, all the disbelief and uncertainty, in regards to my feelings towards him, Gale, Coin, this war and the Revolution itself, I still can't help the feeling of hope spreading across my chest, filling my heart up in a way I never let myself consider it could again.

"Peeta?" I whisper then and he pulls back from planting kisses on my face to look at me.

"Hmm?"

"If my lung is bruised, why did you tell me to breathe deeply to stop the pain?"

He freezes for a second, contemplating and considering before a slightly bashful smile crosses his mouth. "You're the healer here, not me," he finally teases. When I smile back at him, he leans in simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the word, and kisses me full on the mouth.

The kiss catches me off-guard but only after the fact. In the moment it feels right and tingly and reassuring and I'm lightheadedly happy and I don't even know what to make of how I feel on the inside.

"I'm not a healer," I remind with very little passion for the correction in my voice.

He laughs again lightly but then bites his lip and brushed my hair back. "You did say that to me in our first games, right? Real or not real?"

I hesitate for a full ten seconds before I respond, my face scrunching up. His words almost seem like an already formed game that no one had explained the rules of. "Real," I finally answer.

He's already elaborating before I can ask. "Finnick came up with it. He said it works for Annie and I should try it. If I'm ever unsure about anything that happened or what the Capitol tried to make me believe, I should ask." He shrugs then, slightly abashed. "It's repetitive-"

"It's actually a really good idea," I encourage, grabbing his hand in mine again and giving him a reassuring squeeze. And he looks at me then and gives me a grateful smile and his eyes are lighter now than they were when I woke up and I don't know where this is even going between us or if it's even going anywhere and I don't know where Gale stands and I really can't focus on my feelings right now because I'm a symbol of an entire revolution, whether I asked to be or not, and it may be selfish or immature, but I push away all my other conflicting thoughts and pull the boy with the pretty blue eyes down towards me.

He goes willingly, wrapping his body to me, only placing pressure on my right side, and I feel his face burrow in my neck. When his lips press to the sensitive skin there, like he's done dozens of times before, I shiver instinctively and close my eyes against him.

For the first time in forever I feel, for a fleeting moment, safe.

//

Prim and my mom interrupt not too long after that, but for some reason—other than Prim's cheerful smile—they don't comment on the compromising position they found us in.

Peeta promptly moves back to his previous chair and remains there for the duration of the day.

Haymitch joins us not even five minutes after my mom and sister, and he brings boiled cabbage stew from the cafeteria in tow.

"Here you go, Sweetheart," he says with a large smile, looking at the disgusting concoction with excitement now.

I look at the bowl, wishing I had more of an appetite so I could actually feel some desire to eat it. In spite of Haymitch's jokes, the cabbage stew would have been a luxury to me once upon a time, when all I could find to fill my screaming stomach was mint leaves and, if I were lucky, the roots I was named after. "How'd you know I'd be awake?" I inquire, turning the spoon around in the bowl.

"Oh I didn't," my old mentor quickly replies, plopping down in a chair against the wall. "It was for the boy." He gestured towards Peeta, who's running his fingers softly along my spine, inconspicuous enough that not even Prim catches on. "But I figure you deserve it more, since you're the one in the hospital. Speaking of that, why did you two switch places?" He asks, brash and wry.

My mom glares at Haymitch, disapproving of his callous comment, which catches me completely off guard.

My mother usually ignores all chatter between me and Haymitch and Peeta, only chiming in if Haymitch is speaking of something from Twelve that I'd be too young to understand.

I remember then watching Haymitch's tape on the train with Peeta, realizing he and my mom shared a permanent tie labeled Maysilee Donner. I look between them for a hint of familiarity I didn't see before and quickly realize Peeta's doing the exact same thing.

My mom quickly turns back to me, and gingerly but vigoriously, coaxes the stew into my stomach, even when I try to refuse because my ribs ache and using any of my muscles leaves me feeling irritable and shaky and hot inside.

"Just a little bit more, sweet girl," my mom murmurs, forcing me to finish the entire bowl, and it's only when Prim looks at me, the corners of her mouth turning upwards, that I realize my mom had used a long forgotten term of endearment. One that I'd rejected since her bout of deep, delbilitating depression.

I didn't comment on it and I don't think my mother even realized, but I avoid Peeta's eyes because evidently, by the looks of his smirk, even he knew the exchange was rare and hard to come by.

Just as I all but lick the soup bowl clean and my mom's whispering mournfully she has to go back to work and was only allowed to come see me for lunch. I am caught off guard once again though, when she kisses my forehead and whispers, with audible tears, that she loves me so much.

I feel like a monster all of a sudden, for the absolute hell I must have put her through.

I squeeze Prim's hand as tight as I can as she takes our mom's seat and scoots it even closer to my bed. "Hey, little duck," I greet in my most comforting voice. "How're things while I was gone."

Prim, as usual, puts up a-albeit, very weak-pretense in order to make me feel better. "They were okay for the most part." She pauses and bites her lip, contemplating to herself before adding. "It was just hard because we didn't even know you were leaving and then we watched you be shot on live TV."

"I know," I murmur apologetically, because it's all I can do. "I'm so sorry, Prim."

But my sister's shaking her head before I can finish and I swear Peeta and Haymitch roll their eyes at the same moment and if Prim wasn't here, I'd be telling them both off.

"No one's mad at you, Katniss," she promises, like that's my concern. People I love being angry, not people I love going through absolute turmoil. "Just... next time could you let us know?"

I nod automatically, because I want my sister to feel better, even though I'm unsure if I can even fulfill this promise. "Yeah, of course."

Prim just stares at me for a moment. "You're such a bad liar," she finally calls out.

Haymitch noisily laughs from across the room, but Peeta remains completely stoic now, and I want three sets of eyes so I could focus on multiple people at once.

I choose to keep my focus on my little sister. "Prim," I start, my voice still unconvincing. "I just... I never know what's going to happen next, so it's hard to know ahead of time what I'll do. The last thing I want, that I've ever wanted, was to worry you and mom."

"Yeah, but, Katniss," She refutes even and diplomatically. "You not telling us only makes it worse. Finding out from strangers you and Gale disappeared off to District Two on a secret mission with the rebels? Only to watch them fake your death? It was as bad as watching you in the games."

I feel my chest constrict and the breath fly out of my aching lungs as I swallow down the lump formed in my throat. "Prim, I never meant-"

"She knows, Katniss," Peeta chimes in, his hand sifting through my hair once again.

Prim looks at Peeta—with more familiarity than I've ever seen between them before—and then back at me. "He's right. I know you never meant for that to happen but... if you could just let us into the loop a little more, it'd make things a lot more bearable."

I nod, meaning my promise to keep her and our mom more informed now. I squeeze Prim's hand again and ask quietly, "how bad was mom when I was shot?"

Prim's eyes shoot to Peeta almost intractably. But I catch it and I press it before they can pretend it didn't happen.

"What's going on with you two?"

They both look at me in utter shock. Or is that the look of getting caught keeping a secret?

"Nothing," Prim immediately covers. Peeta, on the other hand, doesn't react so quick, and instead chooses to just shut his eyes to avoid looking at me.

There's something more going on that they want to avoid telling me. And instinctively, I don't think it's about my mother. Even without him meeting my glance, I can tell Peeta's embarrassed about something.

"Prim," I say evenly. "You're a worse liar than I am."

"You actually are, kid," Haymitch adds. "Didn't think that was possible."

"What happened when I was shot?" I ask again, my voice closer to a threat than a comfort now.

"Let it go, Katniss. It's not important," Peeta urges, his own voice more worn and irritated than I'd heard it since the last games.

"When has she ever let something go?" Haymitch ponders, unfazed by our whole exchange.

"Katniss," Prim starts but I cut her off. I can tell she was going to placate me, like getting shot turned me into our mother.

"As your older sister, you're not allowed to lie to me."

"C'mon now, Sweetheart. That's not being fair."

"Then you tell me, Haymitch. What happened when I was shot that they don't want me to know?"

Our old mentor sighs deeply but I can tell he's relenting. If I couldn't see the resignation on Haymitch's face, Peeta's whole body tensing up in anticipation would be a dead giveaway.

"The boy had a meltdown when you were shot," Haymitch finally states. He gives Peeta a long, measuring look before continuing. "He basically went ballistic and lost his grip on reality." He moves his eyes to train them on the floor of my hospital room. I know he's trying now to avoid Peeta's furious eyes, full of betrayal.

"What?" I turn and look at the boy beside me, remorse overtaking my entire being. I reach out and touch his face but he won't look at me, even when I try to force him.

"He was frantic for days. Couldn't tell the difference in reality and the lies the Calitol fed him. He was only released probably an hour before you woke up. So I guess you guys have good timing," Haymitch adds, trying too hard to lighten the mood.

"Peeta," I whisper after a beat, pleading with him to just look at me, talk to me, but to no avail.

"Peeta, talk to her," Prim begs on my behalf.

"It wasn't that severe," he finally states, his voice extremely muted now as he speaks in a hushed tone, only to me. "I didn't want to tell you because you don't need anything else on your plate. Especially not about me. And it was barely worth mentioning."

"I think it was worth mentioning," Prim chimes and Haymitch points at her and nods.

"She's got better sense than both of you."

Peeta ignores Haymitch. "Prim," he groans with an air of affinity that still boggled me. "Stop. It was fine."

"You were so upset though. And she should know, since she's the one the Capitol wanted to hurt when they tortured you," she advocates, impressing even me with her reason. "And I think we should all stop lying," my pure-of-heart little sister tacts onto the end.

Haymitch nods affirmatively towards Prim again, and I see something akin to wonder now in his eyes as he looks at her, and it takes no more than common sense to realize he's imagining life with Prim as his victor and how much easier that would have been.

"I just don't think now is the time to be talking about this, Prim," Peeta tersely states.

I can't help but interject now, after having witnessed their exchange this whole time, "I'm sorry, but do you two know each other?"

A look is exchanged between all three of them and I'm so tempted to ask if they'd like me to leave so they can freely converse in private. Finally Prim informs quietly, "me and mom were there with Peeta when he got upset. He actually helped mom because she had somewhere to focus all her own emotions. You know how she is, Katniss. When things get rough, she puts all of herself into her healing."

"Glad of be of service," Peeta mumbles despondently and I can see in his troubled eyes, he's blatantly ashamed of himself.

"Peeta," I murmur softly, taking his hand against his will—he tries to fight me from even picking it up—and bringing it to my lips.

He sighs deeply and offers me a half smile. "My being a lunatic doesn't disturb you?"

"Of course not," I quickly dispute. My mind is still processing all of this though. "So you and my family... bonded after I was shot?"

Peeta outwardly groans, dropping my hand. "Let it go, Katniss."

"I just never considered it a huge connecting technique. You know, I could have gotten shot a long time ago-"

"That's not even funny," Peeta chides and there's nothing humorous in his voice now.

I shut up instantly, feeling the mood of the room drop. Even Haymitch falls silent and adverts his eyes to the floor.

"I'm sorry," I finally whisper and I don't know who I'm apologizing to, Peeta or Prim. I'm know I'm not saying sorry to Haymitch, who is still lolled in his chair across the room. Although maybe I should, since he was undoubtedly as scared as the rest of my family. Not that he'd ever admit that to me.

Peeta shakes his head and his expression softens. Leaning in closer, he gently brushes his lips to my cheek, very lightly and very chaste, considering Prim's proximity.

"Just don't lie to us again," Prim pleads, taking my other hand firmly. "No matter how much you want to protect us."

I nod obligingly, maybe more to relieve my guilt than anything else but I do actually mean my promise. "Okay," I swear.

Peeta pushes back my hair soothingly before running the back of his hand over my cheek. "Okay," he finally repeats, only loud enough for me to hear.

And I know then that he's forgiven me.

///

Within an hour, my mom, Gale, Boggs, Plutarch and my doctor all join the party inside my hospital room.

"Isn't there a limited amount of people allowed in one room?" Haymitch retorts gruffly, unhappy about being squished into the corner and unable to spread out the way he was before.

"Oh there usually is," Plutarch confirms, his tone more joyful than I find appropriate, given my situation. And the state of the rebels now. "But I asked Coin to make an exception for Katniss."

"Can Coin make an exception and give Katniss a bigger room?" Gale mumbles under his breath.

I laugh at his sarcasm and his disgruntled expression. We'd made amends on the way to District Two, not wanting to be in potentially dangerous territories and still on the outs with each other. I expected the issues that made us clash—and whatever feelings that still lied between us—would all come to a head once we returned to Thirteen, but we unexpectedly took longer than anticipated in Two and now I was wounded. And even Gale can't deny he was scared out of his mind when I went down. Even he isn't in the mindset to wrangle with me.

I squeeze Peeta's hand in my own and pretend I don't see Gale's envious eyes staring at our interconnected limbs. I don't feel the same guilt I usually do when it was apparent Gale was upset by me and Peeta, and I wonder, idly, in the back of my mind, if this isn't because of the morphling I'm pumped full of.

My doctor is one of the same people who checked Peeta out after he was rescued and I realize I don't even know his name. It doesn't seem like I'll learn it now either, as he barely speaks. I'm half inclined—though I know it's impossible—to think my own mother is the one who operated on me, from the lack of insight the man provides.

In any case, the doctor doesn't seem concerned in the slightest about me and slips out of the room as soon as Plutarch shifts the conversation in a new direction.

"So, I was wondering," he starts, his face still much too happy to completely sit right with me. "Maybe if you'd be up—once you're out of bed and recovered, of course—to film a propo?"

I just stare at him blankly, wondering how on Earth he expected me to have any desire to film anything right now, while I'm still currently getting pain relievers pumped into my veins.

He misreads my expression and quickly adds, "Of course Peeta would be in it! The Star-Cross Lovers need to be shown reunited. I feel that could help with the cause immensely—"

He keeps talking but I automatically tune out his chirping voice as he prattles on. I can see his vision now. The Mockingjay Lives splayed across the screen, me and Peeta wrapped in an embrace, my voice loud and strong, announcing that we're going to keep fighting to the end.

I'm not the only one looking at Platurch like he's grown a second head. The only person who's not looking at the man with distain or disbelief is Haymitch, who's expression is either mildly entertained or filled with such incredulity that he looks like he's grinning.

Peeta's reaction is much stronger than I expect and it's only after he looks like he's grown nauseous from disgust or is planning on throwing something at Plutarch's joyous face, that I realize Peeta has no real experience with the Gamemaker.

He was in the Capitol the entire time I've really gotten to know Plutarch and the man's antics must seem completely foreign to Peeta.

I squeeze his hand before he can say anything and shake my head in Plutarch's general direction. He isn't harmful and I don't want Peeta to waste the energy he needs to recover.

But he has trouble swallowing down his obvious repulsion and his hands begin to shake and his eyes are far angrier than I would have expected in these circumstances a few months ago.

It's my mom who is murmuring about Peeta needing to check in with his doctors and how she'll walk him down there and she waits expectantly for him to get up and part of me faintly envies him for some reason. And I realize quickly that it's the way she talks to him—it's the way she speaks to all patients of her's, really. It's a firm tone, that's still kind but is very direct. Maybe a little authoritative and unyielding. And I realize at once it's a tone I almost never heard again after my dad's death and I took over caring for the family.

And I miss it. Despite everything. Despite my lack of trust in her and my fear she'll retreat back into her shell one day and leave me and Prim behind all over again. Despite my instincts to never put my faith in my mother again, a big part of me still misses the days when she parented me.

Peeta sighs, seeing through the ruse, and kisses my nose before heading out the door behind my mother.

Plutarch follows too, blatantly unaware of what he set into motion, and saying he was needs to review the film of the other Victors for their propos. I'm still appalled he wanted to parade me out while I'm lying in a hospital bed, but I do feel a bit more at ease knowing it's not just me and Peeta he wants to exploit for the sake of the rebellion.

I wished to myself I could actually go to where the fight was. That I could actually have a shot of getting close enough to really be involved in taking down Snow and his supporters, rather than being filmed as a icon to motivate other people to fight in this war.

I kept this to myself, as my even being in this bed was proof of what happened when I was a more central part of the fighting. And even then, I somehow managed to get shot while they were essentially using me as a talking piece for the other soldiers.

But there was something else on my mind and I turned to focus onto Gale now. Only he, Prim and Haymitch remained in my room and Prim was telling my old mentor about the medical uses of alcohol. I don't know what she planned on accomplishing with that, but it worked as a diversion for me at the moment.

"Okay, so what happened?" I press Gale in a hushed voice when I know Prim isn't listening. He gives me a quizzical look and I quickly clarify. "With Peeta and my mom and Prim?"

Comprehension fills his eyes and he sighs before continuing. "I wasn't there for the beginning. Obviously. I was with you in District Two. But I know that he was watching TV when you were shot, and he completely lost it. Apparently it triggered some kind of flashback to something they used to do to him in the Capitol. He was still yelling when we arrived back. I heard it when I passed his room while you were in surgery. Whatever Snow did to him-"

He's promptly cut off by a new but familiar voice joining the room now. "Ah, yes," Johanna Mason shoves back the curtain separating my cubicle from the one next door. Her's, I guess. "Fond memories you mention, Handsome." She winks at Gale. "One of Snow's favorite methods of torture. The old 'make Peeta watch a thousand fabricated video simulations of Katniss being brutally murdered, on repeat. Don't let him sleep. Beat him. Water him down and beat him some more. Make him watch the Katniss Dying Simmulations again', until he can't even tell you what's real and what's not."

I just stare at her, my heart sinking in my chest rapidly. "What?" Is all I can manage to say, my mouth drying up fast.

"I mean, there were worse forms of torture Snow and his men liked to use on me and your fiancé, but I was told you needed to be kept in the dark about those," she state cheekily, obviously trying to goad me.

"Who told you to keep me in the dark?" I snap, my eyes shooting between Prim, who's now looking right at me, and Gale.

Johanna, much to my surprise, points to Haymitch. The older man is still laid out in a chair in the corner of the room, having made himself comfortable again, but at least now has the decency to look sheepish.

"Listen, Sweetheart," he immediately defends. "You and the boy have your own separate issues, alright? You both don't need to take on the other's all the dang time."

"Haymitch-" I start to growl but am caught off guard by a completely unexpected noise. Johanna's hysterical, dark, morbid laughter.

"I can't believe you were rescued and I was tortured, and I'm expected to protect you from the truth."

I don't blame her. No one could honestly. She was tortured because of me and the rebels. She could say and do whatever she wanted at this point, and no one had the right to tell her differently.

"Johanna," I start but let her cut me off once again, becoming accustomed to the feeling.

"And don't worry about Peeta," she says but the resentful shake of her head doesn't fill me with hope. "Your mom made him her project once they informed her your suit was bulletproof. Her and your sister basically walked him off the ledge."

And because I know she's the only person who will be completely uncensored—something I can't even say about Haymitch these days—I blurt out my next question. "What was Peeta saying? When he lost it?"

Her response is immediate and I get the impression she enjoys telling me, for some sick reason.

"Give me back to the Capitol. They'll find a way to revive her if you give me back. I want to go back. I'll trade my life for her's. Please, let me go back."

As soon as the words sunk into my brain, I wanted to puke.

So I did.

////

Johanna wasn't happy about my vomiting a literal foot away from her and she was downright livid when no one else appeared to be irritated with me but she reached a breaking point when both Peeta—who returned upon hearing my loud gagging—and Gale comforted me.

It was an odd sensation to be in not just conversation with both Peeta and Gale but to have them both be so sweet to me, at the same exact time. Without even so much as looking crossly towards the other one.

Gale held my hand and told me to calm down in a gentle voice he only ordinarily used for one of our sisters or his mom. Peeta was sitting opposite him, on the edge of my bed and telling me softly to just relax as he stroked my hair tenderly. Even Haymitch had gotten out of his seat to call an attendant to clean up my vomit and Prim and my mom were standing at the end of my bed, looking worriedly onto the scene.

Johanna's voice was biting as she took us all in. "How much hand holding does she need? Considering she was apparently strong enough to be the face of our entire cause."

"I shouldn't be," I instantly agree with her. "You should be. No one has to push you or tell you what to say."

"No one likes me, brainless," she says snidely, a leering smile spreading across her face.

"That's because everyone's afraid of you," Prim chimes in timidly, and I drop Gale's hand to reach for my little sister's, almost on instinct upon hearing her scared voice.

But Johanna has the decency to not swipe at Prim and instead gives her a sympathetic look. As if to say you don't have to be scared of me.

Her compassion evidently only extends to the thirteen-year-old, as when Finnick and Annie join the room right on the heels of Prim's words, Johanna barks out a cruel laugh. "Really? More people? Are we having a party to celebrate Katniss?" She gives everyone a mocking look around the room. "Well, I wish someone would have told me. I forgot to bring my streamers."

For some reason her tone suddenly forces back a memory of the last night in the arena. Her cutting my arm open and my red, hot, sticky blood gushing everywhere. My understanding at the time being that this was an attempt to kill me. I know now that this was the rebels' plan and she was really cutting out my tracker but the sense memory can't be so easily rationalized away.

I flinch outwardly and both Gale and Prim's faces silently ask if I'm alright. But I'm quickly distracted elsewhere.

I'm, once again, wholly surprised by Peeta's reaction.

"Don't you have anything else to do, Johanna, besides bug Katniss?" There's a strong irritability in his voice, one I'd only heard from an outsider prospective in the past. On the off occasion I'd witnessed he and his brothers in any sort of conversation. Their relationship was tense at times but they were still siblings and extremely close in age. That made for a lot of squabbling and a lot of fighting and a lot of sparring with each other. And a lot of aggravating each other, causing Peeta to behave in a way I'd never seen him otherwise.

"I don't know?" She shoots back, not even missing a beat. "Didn't I have better things to do than cuddle you after Snow's guards were done for the day? And yet, who's shoulder did you cry on? Who held your hand through our adjoining cells?" She smirks and it's obvious she's speaking for the rest of us to hear.

Annie makes an animalistic squeak and covers her ears. Finnick quickly wraps an arm around her and shoots a glare at Johanna.

"What?" She snaps. "Annie was there in the Capitol, Finnick. She know what went down."

"Doesn't mean you have to remind her of it," I state, my voice grave as I watch the mad girl Finnick loves more than life itself retreat into her own psyche.

And for some odd reason, I relate. To both Finnick, who's doing everything he can now to bring her back from the dark depths of her own mind, and Annie herself, who is buried beneath the ruins of a trauma she'll never be able to escape and is visibly struggling to dig her way back out.

I look to Peeta then, almost imperceptibly, and he just gives me a knowing, almost satirical glance. He was undoubtably thinking the same thing.

Johanna is ready to spit in my face, and she probably would, no doubt, if it were just the two of us. "You have no idea what went down after we were captured," she seethes, growing closer to me, and Peeta places an arm in front of her, blocking me from her reach, but I note the gesture isn't rough or hostile.

Gale and my mom both look like they're going to intervene. Finnick is busy with Annie now. Prim looks shell shocked and Haymitch seems to have lost interest in watching us.

For some reason, maybe it's the morphling, maybe I just feel safe surrounded by so many people who would stop her if she lunged for my throat, but I decide to reply. "Is that why you hate me so much?"

Her violent demeanor dissipates but she still has a spiteful glint in her gaze. "That's part of it. And partially because everyone is so obsessed with you. I've never seen anything about you that's so good or special."

"I agree with you about that," I say quietly, knowing it'll do nothing to mend fences with her.

Haymitch, who out of everyone I thought would agree as well, is the one who speaks up. "There's plenty good in that girl," he retorts sharply, his grey eyes hard as he stares at Johanna.

That caught me—and Peeta, by the look on his face—more off guard than anything Johanna had said thus far.

But it's Johanna's words, which aren't even directed at me, that send a chill to my spine. "Careful, Haymitch. Remember, I'm the one who's always there for the victor you constantly forget about. Or was that you who held his hand while the doctors and Mrs. Everdeen had him strapped down for two days?"

Gale is the one who responds, much to my surprise. "Okay, stop. I know you've been through—"

"Handsome," she cuts off, her voice clipped and snarky but she still bats her lashes in his direction. "You don't know anything."

"Johanna, please," Peeta murmurs now, his tone softer and a lot more understanding. "Please go back to your cubicle. I'll tell the doctors you're complaining of massive pain and need more morphling."

She stares at Peeta, her eyes softening the same way they did for Prim only minutes before. Finally she says, "it's the least you can do. Considering you wouldn't share your fiancé's with me."

And, as soon as she appeared, she had evaporated behind the curtain.

And I feel like somehow, I'm the only person who is left reeling in her absence.

/////

My mom was called back to work once again—and this time, she was made to stay there, my condition apparently too stabilized for them to be letting one of their better healers cut back on her hours—and she took Prim with her. I don't know if it was because Prim would be of use or if she just thought I needed alone time without worrying about my sister overhearing too much.

It occurs to me how much my mom is trying now to wordlessly look out for my needs. I decide to make a point in finding a way to say thank you to her. Even if our relationship will never be what it could have been, had there never been corruption or games or mine explosions. Had there been proper help to those suffering and in need.

Finnick chats with me and Peeta for a moment—and entirely ignores Gale but I suspect that's less about being intentionally rude and more about never knowing what to do with my best friend slash fake cousin—before escorting Annie away. She still looks shaken up and I wonder what happened to her in the Capitol. Or if she was already this unstable. I scarcely remember anything about her or her games, prior to what Peeta reminded me of in the Quell.

"You look tired," Peeta notes, brushing my hair back from my forehead. I smile lightly, about to kiss the palm of his hand before noticing Gale's eyes. They are quite apparently envious of Peeta's affection towards me and my acceptance of it, of how naturally Peeta can touch me, of the innate intimacy between the two of us that I never shared with him. But he tries his best to mask it and for that, I feel even worse.

I look to Haymitch without realizing it and somehow the older man understands without me even consciously thinking of asking.

"Boy," Haymitch grunts, putting on a good show as he stands up. "Let's go get some real food from the cafeteria. I hear if we say we'll participate in Plutarch's Propos, we can get better grub than the rest of Thirteen."

Peeta nods, his eyes gently running over my face, as if memorizing it in his mind. "Will you be okay-"

"Okay, Johanna was right," Haymitch barks now, grabbing Peeta by the back of the shirt, his grip much too docile to pass as normal though. "She'll be fine. Let's all stop hovering. She'll be up and tormenting us in a day."

I roll my eyes at his antics but smile meagerly at him as he guides Peeta out the door.

"Well," Gale breathes out as they leave. "That was subtle."

I laugh loud enough that I hear Johanna hiss from the cubicle next door. "I wanted to talk to you privately."

Gale chuckles. "Gathered that."

I know I have a limited time before Peeta returns and honestly I'm not too mad about that fact either, as I somehow, chessily, long for him now whenever he's gone. I inwardly cringe at myself before shaking it off to hurry this conversation along. "I wanted to apologize for me and Peeta. For how we can act. For..." I trail off, realizing too late I didn't pre-plan my words.

Peeta was right when he'd spat at Haymitch on the Victory Tour, "we all know I'm better on camera than Katniss. No one has to coach me on what to say."

I wished for his ease and talent with words now as I fumble around, trying to convey my message to the person who's been my best friend for years now.

He understands though—thankfully—and needs no more explanation. His tone has become solemn when he speaks. "You're really not faking it anymore, are you? Being in love with him?" His eyes are full of pain and he quickly downcasts them. "You fell in love with him in the Quarter Quell," he says as a fact, not a question.

"I don't know, Gale!" I exclaim, quick to defend myself here, like I'm being accused of something horrific. In truth, I feel like I am. I feel like I am, when I see how much it hurts him when me and Peeta are together. "I don't know how I feel. I just know I feel a lot for both of you."

"That's not good enough, Catnip," Gale whispers, shaking his head. But he uses my old nickname and that gives me hope. Hope that he won't hate me for not being able to give him what he wishes. Hope that I won't lose him entirely by the end of this war. "You really do need him."

I open my mouth to say something, anything, to try and rectify this. But I can't because it's true. Those are my words he's repeating back to me and they completely true. I do need Peeta. Maybe in a way I'll never need Gale. I don't know. I can't know. Not with all that rests on my shoulders already.

"What if I made you choose?" Gale presses now, leaning in closer. "What if I begged and pled and promised I'd find a way to make you happy? Would you pick me then?"

My mouth still hangs open, unsure what to say that get me out of this. I look towards the door, wishing Haymitch would reappear, that Peeta would burst through with his loud footfalls, that Johanna would pop back in and rub some salt in everyone's wounds.

All that would be preferable to this right now and I wonder why I ever wanted Haymitch to take Peeta away.

Gale shakes his head now though, having recieved his answer. "I thought so."

"Gale-" I start, not knowing where I was planning on taking the exchange but before I can even make a redundant attempt to mend whatever broke between me and him a long time ago, he's leaning in and his lips are pressing to mine and after half a second of shock, I'm giving in.

After everything I'd denied him, after all that he'd done for me and for my family, after how much he'd been there for me while Peeta was in the Capitol, I let myself give in and kiss him back.

His lips are different from Peeta's and I can't figure out how I feel about them. He's always been more grown, appearance wise, than Peeta and me, who both still could pass for years younger in the right clothing. But even his kissing is reeks of more experience, more practice, and somehow I find myself learning as his mouth shift under mine, as both his lips suck on my bottom lip expertly.

But it's lacking something and it's only then I realize, what I'm searching for inside Gale's mouth, is the spark that only Peeta's ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn't manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn't be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale's demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I'm not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I'm hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale's face isn't even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

[beeblebrox-be-damned]

Hotel Happenings, Part 2

Alpha!Stucky x Reader

TW: blood, birth, angst-ish stuff.

AN: Hooooooooooo boy extensive plot chapter. I swear, we’ll get to good stuff soon. Probably. Hopefully. Idk tbh. I start writing and then they kinda take on a life of their own and then we end up with a multi-part fic instea dof the originally intended oneshot. AN Part 2- Electric Boogaloo: I’ll be reblogging this later with the taglist for people who wanted to be tagged. My brain is running on empty at this point, its 4 AM, I need sleep fdjmfdmkdfvmk

Long ago, as the primordial oceans churned and raged, a species that would later rise to dominion over the primitive planet  was in the early stages of formation. It was in these barest of centuries when a great divergence took place among the genetic makeup of the creatures. A rift caused by the shifting of the planet’s crust formed, cleaving the small but steadily growing population in two.

It is in this way that one species may become two separate species, though still inextricably intertwined by common ancestors. And thus, the world beget the Humans and the Designates.

It is possible that the change would have occurred even without the rift, though it would have happened at a much slower rate. As it was, the two species, while alike in almost all ways, were unable to breed when they once more found each other.

Humans, despite lacking the prolificacy of Designates, swarmed the Earth quickly. To do so, they pushed the Designates nearly to the brink of extinction. Even today, Designates make up the minority of the Earth’s sentient inhabitants. A deep rift, this time not literal, formed between the two over the millennia that spanned the development of the modern world.

The separation of species, however, was not complete. Despite being unable to interbreed, which would have led to the eventual “out-breeding” of the Designate traits, it was apparent that one species could, through circumstances not yet understood by modern-day science, bare members of the other. It was possible for a pairing of two Humans to bring forth a Designate child and vice versa, though the anomaly remains incredibly rare.

It is possible that it wasn’t as rare as it seems. Taboo as it is to most civilized creatures, the destruction or abandonment of undesired offspring is not unheard of in the natural world. Take the instance of an albino rabbit born into a litter of normally coloured siblings. It is normal for the mother to shun the out-of-place offspring, resulting in its untimely demise. With the deep hatred between the two species it is not unfathomable that a Human or a Designate may allow offspring born of their counterpart species to die, leading to a skewed statistical error of reported counter-births.

While hatred wanes, some remain that still hold deep, unfounded malice towards the other species, as it was that led to the abandonment of our dear main character…

……………………………

“C’mon, c’mon. It’ll be okay… just a little further and then we can- can-” the man’s words stuttered to a stop with a distressed whine. His Alpha tugged at his hand, urging him to allow her to sit and rest. One of her hands clutched her swollen belly tightly, her face twisted in agony.

“No, ‘Mega. I need to sit. F-uck.” Her words were tight, pained. A gust of wind brushed her hair away from her face as she slid to the ground, letting go of her distressed Omega’s hand. She leaned against a tree as he crouched down beside her. He gave a small whine, fear shining in his wide eyes. 

The moon, covered with piebald clouds, provided very little light in the forest. He couldn’t see the red, but he could smell the blood. His frantic whines grew louder. His panting Alpha reached up and stroked her hand over his cheek. “Hush now, it’ll be alright. We’ll just have to- ah!” Her words cut off in a sharp cry of agony. After a moment, she regained her breath. “Y-your jacket, give me your jacket,” she sputtered, “Can’t wait any longer.”

Her Omega, despite his panic, obeyed promptly. He shrugged the ragged jacket off of his thin shoulders and with the Alpha’s guidance, spread it beneath her. Her hair clung to her forehead as she groaned, her Omega watching by helplessly.

“Alpha, we need to get to a hospital, need to get help-” he cried, hands scrambling feebly to try to assist with the birth. “There’s so much blood- oh god there’s so much blood.” Tears streamed freely down his cheeks, mingling with the rain that spat from the sky.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” the Alpha said weakly, taking one of his bloodied hands in her own. Her thumb stroked his skin softly as she locked her gaze on his. It pained her more than the physical pain of birth to see her beloved so distraught. “It will be alright, I promise.” Her voice was steadily growing weaker, the blood pooling around her. “Just… hold my hand. She’s almost here.”

He held her hand tightly, too afraid to look, too afraid to see how much blood was leaching from her body. She could feel the infant crowing, almost ready. She wished it had been different, wished she could watch her first pup grow up. Gripping her Omega’s hand tightly and using her last reserve of strength, she gave a final harsh push. A wail greeted her ears as she slipped into the velveteen darkness.

The Omega listen to the child wail, frozen in place. He could feel it in his bond when his Alpha’s last breath left her body. He leapt onto her, frantically trying to breathe life back into her limp form. His heart wrenched in his chest as the hopelessness of it hit him. His a loud cry he stood, turning his face away as he screamed curses towards the inky tree-tops.

A whine reminded him of the new life. Swallowing another scream, he turned to gaze upon the pup he had sired. He laughed through his grief as he realized it was indeed a girl, just as his Alpha had thought. They hadn’t been able to go to the doctor to find out for sure, too poor to pay the bills, too poor to even afford proper clothing. But they had each other.

They had each other. No more.

He leaned down, gathering his daughter in the bloodied rag of a jacket he had worn. He sobbed, eyes shut tight as the pain hit him in waves. As he stared at the infant, he realized just how tiny she was. Horror and rage slowly crept over him, and his frown grew into a sneer.

“Y-you,” he growled, “you’re human.” There was venom in his voice, centuries of hatred. Had the light been stronger, he may have seen he was mistaken. But perhaps not. The scent glands of a premature Designated infant are very difficult to locate, nor do they produce any of the scent that differentiates the two species.

He stood, holding the infant far from his body. “A human… a human killed her.” His voice rose in pitch. “A human killed my Alpha. You killed her,” he screamed. “You killed her!”

Part of him wanted to toss the infant to the ground and run, but something kept him from doing so. With an angered sob, he clutched the baby close again. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Nor did he want to raise this pup, this human, on his own. 

It was then, as he looked up, that he happened to glimpse a small glint of light through the trees. An old woman had just happened to be awake then, unable to sleep though she did not know why. He stumbled forward, eyes fixed on the light. A window came into view, illuminating a trellis-archway above a doorstep.

The scent of wisteria hung heavily in the air as the infant cried.

……………………….

The woman brushed the hair off of her neck, wincing as sweat caused it to cling to her skin. Steam rose from the large pots on the stove and heat poured from the oven. The windows were open as wide as they could go, but it did little to ease the stifling heat of the small kitchen.

Turning on her heel, she walked over to the door, pushing it open and haphazardly fanning it back and forth in an attempt to stir up the air. After a moment she gave up, opting instead to prop it open. She really needed to get a fan or something to put in the kitchen. This old building just wasn’t very well ventilated, and the air conditioning on this side had never worked quite properly after it was installed. She never bothered to have it repaired since it still worked in the guest rooms and the second floor. There just wasn’t the money in the bank account to do it.

Content that the potatoes were far enough away from boiling over and the roast wasn’t going anywhere, she ducked out of the hot room and strolled down the short hall between the dining area, kitchen, and foyer. Ro was still in the office, her usual spot. Before she had lost her sight, she would spend hours looking out the office’s large window to observe the wildlife. It held especially fond memories, she had told the woman once, because that was the first room she ever held her in after she’d been left outside the foyer doorsteps.

The woman knocked on the door, signaling her presence so she wouldn’t startle the elderly lady. Of course, she probably had heard her coming down the hall, but it was better to be safe than sorry. “Yes?” came the reply promptly.

The woman pushed open the door and stepped inside, propping it open wide. She sat down in a comfortable chair across from Ro’s rocker, wiping at her sweat-sticky forehead. “It’s awful warm today, isn’t it?”

Ro raised her eyebrow, pursing her lips. “Not particularly, but I can imagine it mus’ be hot in that stuffy little kitchen. How’s the roast comin’ along?” Her gnarled hands rested on her lap, clasping each other lightly.

The woman smiled. “It’s in the oven as we speak. Had to get out the big one we’d saved in the freezer. Got a lot of guests today.” She paused a moment, thinking. “How’d you know we were having roast?”

Ro chuckled. “Silly girl. I can smell it. Smells real nice too. Did ye’ use rosemary?” Her face was turned towards the window, the light from it highlighting each smile-line and wrinkle that the woman loved so dearly. As time she had to spend with her adoptive guardian grew shorter, she spent more time committing each detail about her to memory.

“Yeah, fresh from the garden. I added a little thyme too, but not a whole lot.” She leaned forward and took one of Ro’s hands in her own, smiling as Ro gently squeezed her fingers. “You’ll never guess who our guests are, Mama. I was so shocked I almost passed clean out.”

Ro turned towards her, eyebrow raised. “Yeah? Who is it, baby?” Her wispy hair circled her face loosely where it had slipped out of the confines of her bun.

“You remember a few years back when that mind-controlled man invaded New York with aliens?” the woman asked, remembering the chaos that had been broadcast live on all the major news channels. Ro nodded, pursing her lips as she remembered. 

“Those were nasty lookin’ creatures,” she said, shaking her head. “Nasty, nasty, nasty.”

“Agreed,” said the woman, finding herself nodding even though her companion couldn’t see it. “Anyway, there were those people that defeated them and chased the rest of them off. The Avengers.”

Ro nodded, licking her lips. “Now you aren’t tellin’ me,” she said, “that the Avengers are staying at our hotel, are you?” The quirk of her eyebrow marked her slight disbelief.

“Yup, they are. No- I’m not kidding.” She replied, watching the surprised look on Ro’s face. “And he’s with them, Mama.”

Ro laughed loudly, rocking back in her chair for a moment. “Well I’ll be darned,” she said, chuckling excitedly. “Never in my life did I ever think I’d get to meet the Captain America himself in person, let alone havin’ him an; his whole team stay in the hotel! My, my, this world sure is a funny place.”

Ro had spent many nights tucking her into bed and telling her stories when she was young. Often times, the stories were mostly true, centered around Ro’s favorite hero from World War 2, Captain America. As the woman got older, she figured out that Ro had had a bit of a crush on him, as most women of his time probably had. It had come as a great surprise to both of them when the word got out his body had been found- alive. Ro had clapped her hands and declared that miracles really did happen.

“Dinner will be ready soon, do you want to go ahead down to the dining room?” Ro released the woman’s hand and nodded, allowing her to stand. She walked to the corner of the room and retrieved Ro’s wheelchair, bringing it over to her. She helped her stand and situate herself in the wheelchair.

As they moved past the open kitchen, the woman winced at the heat. Even being in Ro’s cooled office, she still was uncomfortably warm. Ro seemed to sense her discomfort, tilting her head with a quizzical stare as the woman situated her at the dining table.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” the woman asked as she pulled open the chest of drawers where the good silverware was kept. She and Ro wouldn’t usually use it, as most guests opted to dine out in the town, but this was a special occasion to warrant the carefully polished utensils.

Ro hummed thoughtfully. “Nothin’ baby, you just seems a little off today. You sure you ain’t feelin’ unwell?” She couldn’t see her ward, but she could hear there was something unusual just by the change in the pace of the woman’s steps. They were almost sluggish.

The woman carefully spread the tablecloth over the hard oak table, moving on to place dishes at each seat. “To be perfectly honest, I’m a bit tired I suppose. I think the heat has me down,” she admitted, smoothing the tablecloth idly as she examined herself.

Ro frowned, worried. “Baby, it’s not that hot out. C’mere,” she said, beckoning with one hand. The woman came over obediently, knowing Ro wouldn’t take no for an answer. She knelt beside the wheelchair, allowing Ro to place her hand against her forehead. It was cold, pleasantly so. She nearly found herself leaning into the touch. “Child, you are positively burning up! If it weren’t for your tone a’ voice, I’d say you had a fever.”

The woman stood. “Odd. Other than the warmth, I feel fine.” She laid out napkins and the silverware, making sure each place was properly set. Perhaps if they made a good impression on their guests, they’d recommend the place to others. Wistful thinking, honestly, but it was worth a shot.

Ro pursed her lips, her worry clearly written across her face. “If you insist, baby. Just take it easy after dinner. The dishes ‘ll wait until morning just fine.”

The woman smiled. “Alright, Mama, whatever you say.” Satisfied the table was set properly, she returned to the kitchen to finish prepping the meal.

…………………..

“Alright, Mama, ready?” the woman asked, making sure Ro was comfortably seated in the chairlift to their upstairs residency. She pressed the button, briefly pausing to make sure the chair was running properly before turning and folding up the wheelchair so she could carry it with a bit more ease up the stairs. “So,” she asked as she followed Ro up the stairs, “what’d you think of the Avengers?”

Ro gave a hearty laugh, grinning widely. “They are somethin’ else! I tell you what, I’m glad they’re stayin’ for a couple days. They’ve gotta be the liveliest bunch we’ve had here in years.”

The woman smiled as they reached the top of the stairs, unfolding the wheelchair and assisting Ro back into it. The elderly lady could walk short distances with a walker to the bathroom and such, but you both agreed it was far safer for her to use the wheelchair for most things. The woman had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t mind caring for Ro but had agreed at Ro’s stubborn insistence that should the burden ever be too much, she would take her to the local retirement home.

“I’ve got to agree with you there, Mama.” She took Ro to her room, making sure everything was in order for the night. She waited outside the door as Ro readied herself for bed. “So, what’d you think about Captain Rog-, er, Steve?” Steve had insisted on them referring to him by his first name, as did most of the others, including Bucky. He had seemed almost embarrassed to request being called James instead of ‘Mr. Barnes’, but the grin he wore hearing it was certainly a sight to behold.

Ro shuffled out of the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the bed, slipping off her houseshoes. The woman leaned over and carefully undid her bun, setting the pins on the nightstand and grabbing a hairbrush. “He’s such a charmer,” Ro said, “just like he was back in the day. And such a sweetheart! I swear, that man doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. And his friend seems awful nice too. What was his name? James?”

The woman smiled softly as she finished combing Ro’s hair. “They are quite nice, aren’t they. I can’t believe they offered to help clean up after dinner. I guess that’s the sort of kindness people have been loosing, huh?” she sighed. 

Ro smiled and patted her hand. “Baby, sometimes kindness is all we got. I’m proud of you, did you know that? So proud.” She paused, squeezing her hand tightly. “I’m glad you showed up on my doorstep. Who knew such a tiny little thing would grow up to be such a strong lady.”

The woman smiled, eyes misting as she walked towards the bedroom door. “It’s all because of you, Mama Ro. You’ve taught me a lot. Sleep well, call for me if you need anything. Love you.” She shut the door partway and departed to her own room across the hall, opening the window wide to let in the cool night air before she baked in her own skin.

Ro settled back into her pillows. Her face was aimed towards her own window, moonlight highlighting the wise elder’s features. “I don’t know if it’s all ‘cause of me,” she murmured to herself. “Beginin’ to think it may be heritage too.” She chuckled to herself. “My baby ain’t human at all. This is one funny world.”

………………………..

Downstairs, two men were settling into bed, eagerly settling into the crisp, clean-smelling sheets that bore the faint scent of the woman, who they were now sure was an Omega, who’d placed them earlier.

“Jesus, Steve, that was a good meal. She sure can cook,” Buck said, turning over on his side to face his longtime friend and partner. It was a bit odd for two Alphas to be in a relationship, let alone one so long-term, without an Omega to accompany them, but Bucky felt sure that was going to change soon.

Steve smiled, stifling a yawn. “Absolutely. I could get used to that.” He chuckled, resting his arms behind his head, contentment washing over him. It was silent for several minutes, but then Steve spoke up again. “So, we’re gonna talk about what’s going on, right? I could tell by the look on your face soon as we walked into the dining room that you could smell her too.”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, alright, I did. She’s definitely an Omega. So faint though, kinda strange.” The only Designates he’d ever known who’d been so faint of scent were the ones who’d been on heavy suppressants for much longer than the recommended usage period, but that couldn’t be the case with the hostess seeing as she thought she was human.

“Did it- well, no, maybe it was just my imagination- well, did it maybe smell to you like she’s going into, well, y’know…” Steve glanced over at Bucky with his eyebrows raised, reluctant to say what was on the tip of his tongue.

“Heat?” Bucky snorted at Steve’s coyness. “So strong I thought I was gonna pop a goddamn knot right in the middle of dinner. Super-soldier senses are both a blessing and a curse. Nat and Bruce had it lucky.”

Steve nodded in agreement. “I guess what I’m thinking is… what if she’s never had much contact with other Designates and that delayed… stuff? Maybe our scents or something, I don’t know, triggered her presentation.”

Bucky rolled onto his stomach, wrapping one arm around Steve’s torso as he buried his face in his pillow. “We can look into it tomorrow. For now, get some sleep punk. G’night.”

Steve smiled. “Night.”