#MORE PAIN AND SUFFERING OH BOY THOSE WARNING TAGS LOOK

[ka0ila]

|Enemity

genre- angst, smut, mafia au, dark romance, enemies to lovers¿

pairing- mafia!straykids x mafia!reader

type- series

warnings- smut, degradation, death, murder, blood, childhood trauma, virginity, dark, mention of rape, guns.

m.list

tags- @hann1bee

A winter morning,

My parents were shot.

That look on his face, i can't forget.

Those suffering eyes, i can't forget.

Blood, all over.

my face,

my clothes,

the floor.

everywhere.

The tall, muscular expression-less man stepped inside, looked at my brother and i, bent down and grabbed my dad by his hair and made him look towards him,

"i told you,hazlurt, i did. i warned you, i did and now, you're gonna pay it with your own life and your poor little wife." a disgusting smirk displayed on his face. He started walking towards my mom, all of a sudden, two men came in, held me and my brother, grabbed our jaws, and made us look towards our parents. Lyrian was sobbing, badly. The muscular man, grabbed my mom by her hair, "poor little thing, gonna pay for your husband's mistake, yeah?" my mom winced and he slapped her.

"stop! Valzart, don't bring her into this, don't hurt her, i beg of you!" my dad screamed, with a little energy he had left.

"not so fast, you know what i wanted Hazlurt, but you and your fucking loyalty towards your pitty little job is gonna get you, and your family killed." he snapped back.

He took out a knife and placed it on my mom's collarbone, "hey, i'm gonna engrave my name on your skin, infront of your husband, isn't that so exciting?" he said chuckling, dad tried to get up, he just couldn't and then Valzart, the muscular man, placed the knife on my mom's collarbone, "Stop! please" Jeongin shouted crying. Valzart looked towards him, "oh hey, you pity little momma's boy, it's alright, i'm not hurting your momma, it's just something she paying for because of your daddy's actions" he said and a disgusting little smile displayed on his disgusting face.

'C'

'R'

'I'

'S'

'T'

‘O’

‘P’

‘H’

‘E’

‘R’

Bahng Christopher Chahn.

The leader of straykids.

The engraving looked deep, my mom was screaming, even i wanted to look away i couldn't because one of his men was grabbing my jaw and made my look at my mom struggling, when i tried to close my eyes, he slapped me. Jeongin passed out hearing my mom scream, and yelp in pain, it was too much.

I was just a 8 year old kid, too small and understand or to express emotions.

"poor little girl, wanna know what daddy did? your daddy tried to betray us, and him being this poor little spy, tried to leak something very important, that's wrong right? betraying, betraying is wrong right, little one?"

Suddenly, someone hit him from the behind with a wooden stick,

It was my brother, Jeongin,

he mouthed 'run'

i looked around,

everything was so slow,

everything was echoing,

blurry,

hazy,

Jeongin held my hand, and

we ran.

BangChan

I can never in my fucking life forget his filthy name.

A mafia, A well known filthy mafia.

Known to be 'heartless', 'cold', and definitely not merciful.

Killed more than half of the top mafia's including Ogumai Kamasaki.

nearly no one was able to dream surpass The Great Harlenlando Eziquas, but he did.

My biggest enemy since i was eight.

…

"you came, RaIz." (Y/N) Hazlurt said while sipping her imported wine. "you called, Hazlurt" Jorian replied back smirking, Lileth raised her left eyebrow and smirked as no one ever dares to call her by her surname. "daring, aren't ya?" (Y/N) said in a stern tone, leaving goosebumps on Jorian's body, "here for a good reason, my lady."

"very well." (Y/N) said as she kept her wine glass on the back marble table infront of the pool. "what made you call me here, my lady?" Jorian said as he moved his hand to grab his whiskey glass. "nothing special really, just for my own personal pleasure" (Y/N) gave him a stern look, and smirked. As she moved towards him, he moved when step back. Soon, he was pinned down by (Y/N), "what are you planning to do to me?" Jorian said with lustfull eyes.

"Kill you just like you killed my brother's girlfriend"

"you know she deserved it." Jorian said with a scared but stubborn tone, with a wish to live. "oh? well then, you deserve to die" she placed her pistol's pointer inside his mouth and shot him. Jeongin was in the pool, looking at the drama. He was satisfied with what happened, flipped his hair; spread his arms and fell back on his back inside the water.

…

with a bang, i submersed myself in the water, he deserved it, he deserved to die, he deserved to die because he killed and raped his own sister and my girlfriend, the only girl i've ever loved in my entire life. i've had so many girlfriends but all of them were only for my own pleasure, but i fell in love with Miuka.

"Jeongin?" I heard my sister call out my name. For some reason i just didn't want to answer."I.N?" If she ever gave anyone a nickname, it was me, if she ever cared about someone, it was me. So, not many know i'm her brother as it's 'danger' for me. If people get to know about it, i'll be all her enemy's target. So, we're 'cousins' in the eyes of people, 'cousins with enmity' it's for the best i guess.Jorian Ralz, a man who worked under Bang Chan. When i found Miuka's dead body in our room, i saw his initials on her neck. Ever killed body under him, had those initials engraved. Whether it's his men, or him. Even if his men kill someone for their on pleasure or need, they had to engrave his name on the dead body. It's creepy; having your name engraved on someone's dead body you don't even know of, but it did make people terror him."yeah?" i said looking up at her swimming towards the edge. "are you satisfied now?" she said while ruffling my hair with a smile. "mhm, thankyou" i said and gave her a quick smile. She nodded and walked inside. she takes a bath everytime she kills someone. The moment she left, the staff came in, cleaned up that place, picked up the body, and took it somewhere, i don't even know what they do of all these bodies. Now, let's get to the police.The police, government, or anyone doesn't talk about the mafia's especially, (Y/N) Hazlurt and Christopher. Everyone knows about their rivalry, people who tried to interfere are now, well, dead. 'Being an enemies to lovers fan, i'd like them to fall in love and fuck everyday all around the villa.' is what Miuka used to say. I never said anything, Bang Chan ruined my family.

…

"fuck" she moaned as i inserted my second finger inside her. I looked in her dark brown eyes. I was moving my fingers inside her just the way she liked it, by her tightness,

i knew she was a virgin. She was squirming under me and i fucking loved it. I loved how i was controlling the amount of pleasure she was receiving.

She was flushed, her face looked adorable and sexy at the same time. Her black hair strands on her face, her mouth wide open, Moaning my name everytime i hit her spot, her arched back, her shivering body,

i loved it.

"i'm gonna cum" she said with teary eyes and barely audible. I stopped moving my finger, "beg for it" i said with a cold rough tone with my two fingers still inside her,

stretching her out.

She looked flustered, i was definitely her first. "please" she said whining, "please, what? what do you want me to do?" i said looking at her, she failed to maintain an eye contact.

She threw her head back, shut her eyes, and begged, "Please sir, pump your long fingers inside me, hit my spot over and over again, finger me like it's the end of the fucking world, just please let me cum, fuck"

she said and let out a loud moan when i suddenly started moving my fingers in a fastened pace with letting her complete and inserted my third finger. 'sir' definitely caught me off gaurd.

Soon, she came all over my three fingers, i made her look at the mess she made and the condition of my room's bedsheet. I inserted my fingers inside her mouth and made her taste herself.

I started moving my fingers in and out, the sound of the gags, oh how much i loved them. She looked at me those teary eyes, gagging on my fingers. Oh, how much it turned me on. "Do you want me to fuck you?" i asked her looking deep in her eyes, "i'm not ready"

she said stuttering in between the gags, i nodded and took out my fingers and got up.  "im so sorry, but i'm just not ready" she started sobbing. why was she apologising for not being ready? i frowned and sat back down taking her into my embrace.

"why did you apologise for not wanting to have sex right now?" i asked her after i made her stop crying, "it just, it just ruins the mood, and it's such a big turn off for you, i fear it's gonna make you not want me.." she said while looking at me sitting in my lap, hugging me.

"i won't get mad at you for not being ready, lair. Keep that in mind, always. Don't push yourself into something you're not ready for." She gave me a heart warming smile and kissed me. “you know, never mind” with that she kissed me again, with lust.

i was taken back a bit, did she think i’d lose interest? did she feel forced? all these thoughts muffled as i started losing control. i flipped her over,

she groaned as i slapped her ass cheek, everything was happening so fast. i was about to grab a condom when she said “i’m on birth control”. I pulled down her soaked panties, and started unbuckling my belt. “such a whore, such a whore for me, say it” she was flustered.

“i’m your whore, only yours.”

“yeah that’s right, you’re my fucking whore, mine”

i aligned myself infront of her entrance, i started rubbing it with the tip of my cock. i heard her whine, oh how much i loved her crying and whining. “are you sure?” i asked her as i huffed. “yes, yes, yes sir, please sir, just enter” she said in adrenaline. i chuckled and started submerging myself inside of her tight little hole, my hole to ruin. i heard her groan in pain,

“it’ll be pleasurable, adjust, it’s okay” i couldn’t be rough on her first, even if i wanted to ruin her and see her cry, i couldn’t. i gave her time to adjust, pumping slowly in and out, she was crying, “you’re huge!” she cried, i chuckled. “speed up” she said, “okay.” i said. I started pulling in and out of her dripping glistening pussy, what a sight.

“mmh- fuck.” she cried as i fastened my pace, i just couldn’t hold back, i couldn’t, her cunt was just so addictive.

“fucking cunt, wants me to go faster and then fucking cries, such a fucking loser” she clenched around me, “oh? you love degradation? such a fucking slut, my slut” i said fastening my pace, i was losing it,

the way she clenched around me, it was fucking me up, it was making me lose my mind, it was just so fucking addictive, i couldn’t hold back, i just couldn’t.

“i’m gonna cum”

“not now”

“please”

“shut the fuck up slut, you cum when you’re told”

“pleas-”

i slapped her ass cheek before she could complete her sentence.

she was a whimpering mess, crying, begging, begging for me to allow her cum, oh how much i loved it.

“cum.”

…

Jeongin, my next assignment. He doesn’t know i’m an assassin, he doesn’t have to.

i’ve been assigned to bring him, dead or alive.

He’s important they say,

he fell in love with me, but did i?

did i fell for his godly beauty? did i fell for his charisma?

i’m unsure.

last time i fell in love was when i was 11.

first and last.

…

“cum” he said. i left out a cry and whine, of both pleasure and pain. i lost my virginity to my assignment, i’m good as dead now.

[filmbyjy]

How hyung line would look after you on your period ?

a/n: oh actually I’ve done one with the whole group before but since this is only for the hyung line, it’s going to be a new one! also it’s great to know i’m currently on my period as I started writing this🧌currently dying👍🏻

WARNING: since it is the hyung line, i'm making it more suggestive than usual. why? bc these four have me on chokehold. which also means minors please do not interact. mentions about giving head. mentions of makeout. i'm putting this in the smut tag only bc i realise the more i write, the more i want to go further😀.

enhypen reacts [hyung line]: taking care of you during your period

— placing this in case the read more messes up —

❦ heeseung

oh lee heeseung…holding back myself bc i may pounce

but anyways, i've said in my other post with the whole group, heeseung would definitely be sweet

he buys you pads whenever you run out (with addition of him being terrified by the heaps of pads and tampons in that section)

helps make tea (or coffee but i'm more of tea girl) when you feel in pain.

helps you distract from your cramps by making you laugh

he still that sweet boyfriend but...

his patience is at the low when he's getting hot and heavy.

i mentioned that heeseung now uses kisses to make you feel better whenever you are having cramps.

and when those kisses get carried away, you bet your asses you will be laid back onto the couch as heeseung hovers over you.

and he would get annoyed if your cramps interrupt his kissing session with you.

if it escalates even further, you have to stop him and remind him that you are on your period.

to which, he groans

"i just want to give you some love. why does mother nature have to come at the worst timing." he complains.

oh lee heeseung, you wished god never made women suffer with periods every month but there was no choice.

so to suffice heeseung's lust, you umm well offer him to give him head.

and yes, he agreed bc who wouldn't want to receive head from their significant other.

❦ jay

okay so i've mentioned before that since jay is an only child, he wouldn't know much about periods and stuff

after all, the only womanly figure around him is his mom.

however, he does quickly learn how to handle these sorts of things bc well he is simply park jongseong.

and once he becomes a pro at it then yay! happy girlfriend = happy jay

now for the suggestive part...

jay, to put it quite frankly, has a high sex drive. i won't lie

but he is a patient man so he will wait

however, not when you've been teasing him.

you've gotten more horknee during your period and like you have a hunk of a boyfriend

how are you not supposed to tease him

your kisses always lingered on him and it makes him want to swoop you in and kiss you hard

but he knows he shouldn't

"love, we shouldn't." jay says.

"but i just want to kiss you."

"if i kiss you, i won't be able to control myself."

but of course, you kissed him.

it ends with you and him having clothed sex and yes, it was the hottest thing you've done with jay.

❦ jake

i've mentioned that jake has 'golden retriever' energy

and it's true he does

he would be a good boy and run around helping you whenever he needs to

bc he loves you

which does make him sound like a total simp, which he is. however, do you wear the pants in the relationship?

unfortunately, you don't bc although jake is all 'happy puppy', he can turn into a total menace with you.

tbh, he hates whenever you have your period. sure he takes care of you and whatever.

but to him, a period is like cockblocker

he can't have sex with you

and we all can tell that he has a high sex drive (read: scorpio sign staring right back at you)

so like whenever, it's that time of the month...jake has no choice but to either jerk off or be holy and not touch himself

if he decides to stay holy is bc he would rather feel you than use his hands.

however, if he can't wait then his right hand will be of use.

❦ sunghoon

i didn't mention much in hoon's side bc it was just crack

and honestly, it's true

sunghoon just wants to liven up the mood bc he knows it probably hurts

or well you told him how much it hurts

sunghoon doesn't enjoy seeing you in pain so he opts to make you smile

or well...see you flustered

sunghoon likes to also tease you during your period

why? bc you can't do anything about it

little does he know, your hormones go way worse when it's that time of the month.

he will trap you against a wall, lean down to nearly kiss your lips and then pulling away.

you hate it but you also loved it bc god you loved the tension whenever it happens.

finally, you cracked. you wrapped your arms around sunghoon's neck and kissed him. he wasn't fazed by it since he wanted this too.

it escalates further, you were in the bedroom. straddling sunghoon's lap still kissing him and grinding down on him.

sunghoon knows this should stop but he drunk off the feeling, it had been a long time (it was only 2-3 days).

you had ended it off by giving him head and he helped you out by letting you ride his thigh.

[wongyuseokie]

Sleep Talking | l.s.m

Summary: Your boyfriend has a habit of talking in his sleep, and usually, it’s something very random, but tonight? He mumbled that he loved you in his sleep. 

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff |  ♥ completed works

Word Count:  925 words

Pairings: Lee Seokmin x Female Reader 

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Fluff

Content Warnings: One mention of food, and it’s so fucking fluffy, this is just me in my Seokrot and I’m in pain. I don’t even think it’s a Seokrot phase anymore. I’m just in it, and I can’t escape.  

Authors Note: This fic was inspired by the Weverse post where DK sleep-talked and wanted to party in his sleep (I swear this man is smth else). I also said I wouldn’t write this because I do not have any time, but here we are. 

Authors Note 2: @gyuwoncheol, for fueling my delulu self. I love you, my darling and @seungkwansphd for hearing me yap about this too.

Tagging: @aaniag @onlyseokmins @cheollipop @the-boy-meets-evil because let's suffer together, my Seok fans.

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

“So, Seok, you were ready to party in your dream?” You asked your boyfriend. 

“You saw the post?” Seokmin asked, and you grinned at him. Your boyfriend had just posted an audio recording of him sleep-talking where he was more than ready to party. 

“I should just stay awake a little longer tonight to see if I can record you saying something funny or blackmail worthy,” you teased, making Seokmin pout. 

“Kidding,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a soft kiss. 

“So it’s our first time spending the night together,” Seokmin mumbled. 

“Yeah, it is,” you added shyly, hiding your face in his chest. 

“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable or anything at any time, tell me, okay? I’ll take the couch,” Seokmin offered, making your heart swell at his thoughtfulness. 

“I will, but I doubt you could ever make me feel uncomfortable,” you said honestly. 

You always took at least an hour or two to fall asleep; even if you were in bed by 10 p.m., you wouldn’t be asleep before midnight. It’s just how you were, but tonight, you were grateful for this because you eagerly hoped to hear your boyfriend say something funny in his sleep and record him. 

You noticed him starting to stir in his sleep. His arm, which was slung across your waist, pulled you in closer, and you could hear him begin to mumble ever so faintly. You grabbed your phone, making sure you’d be able to record him. 

You were about to press record when you heard him faintly; his voice was so soft that you could have almost missed it, but you were eternally grateful that you didn’t. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You almost dropped your phone on his face when you heard his confession. You wanted to wake him up and say those three words back to him, but instead, you thought of a plan and placed your phone back onto your nightstand, curled up to his touch and fell asleep with a huge grin. 

“Morning, handsome,” you greeted Seokmin the following day as he walked into the kitchen, his hair still wet from his shower. 

“Wow, look at all this food!” Seokmin exclaimed when he saw the various breakfast options on the kitchen island. 

“Is this all for us?” Seokmin asked, his eyes wide, and you nodded at him. 

“Baby, this is all so amazing, but you didn’t have to go through all this trouble!” Seokmin pouted, feeling bad that you did so much work. 

“I just wanted to show my love for you and thank you for being the sweetest boyfriend ever,” you admitted, and Seokmin grinned at you shyly. 

“Love?” Seokmin asked. 

“Yes, my love?” You teased, making him roll his eyes playfully at you. 

“No, you said you wanted to show your love for me?” Seokmin asked, his voice nervous and unsure. 

“Yeah, Seok,” you mumbled shyly, looking down at your feet before looking up. 

“I love you too,” you added, looking up at him. 

“Too?” Seokmin exclaimed, and you mistook his tone for confusion. 

“Oh, um, no, it’s just you said you loved me in your sleep last night, and I thought I’d say it back to you like this, but I guess maybe I read into your words too much; you were asleep,” you rambled, as Seokmin’s eyes grew wider with each word. 

“I confessed to you in my sleep?” Seokmin asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, but you were asleep; just ignore what I said if it’s too soon. I don’t want to overstep or make you worry. Just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen?” You offered, panicking slightly. 

“Nope!” Seokmin said as he ran off back to the bedroom. You could only worry, thinking that you had scared your boyfriend off. You waited a couple of minutes before you decided to follow after him. 

“Here!” Seokmin said, running back into the kitchen, huffing slightly with a rose in his hand. 

“Uh? Seok?” You asked. It was now your turn to be confused. 

“I love you. I just wanted the first time I said it to be more elaborate and special, and not in my sleep, but I meant every word. I love you, my baby,” Seokmin confessed, making you let out a sigh of relief, and you ran into his arms. 

“I love you too,” you mumbled into his chest, and you looked up at him, he leaned down, and your lips met in a gentle and tender kiss. The soft brush of your lips against each other sent shivers down your spine.

His lips were warm and inviting, and you could taste the subtle hint of the sweet, unspoken words that had been hanging in the air between you. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation, and lose yourself in the kiss.

Your bodies drew closer, and your arms encircle each other, pulling you nearer. The world disappears, and all that matters is this moment. It's a kiss filled with passion, a kiss that speaks of all the emotions you've been holding back.

“Seok?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you yank this rose out from my rose bush? The one I have been trying to grow?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at me. 

“Love forgives all!” Seokmin yelled dramatically, making you laugh. 

“It does, right?” Seokmin asked gently, and you smiled fondly at him. 

“Yes, but no more killing my plants, okay?” 

“Yes, no more dead plants!” 

[nescamonster]

Not terrible moment

So I am in love with @asterbae 's amazing Fic "Perfect Slaughter" on Ao3. Unfortunately I was not blessed with the artistic streak, all I can do is offer up is a non cannon, fanfiction of Their fanfiction to give the Boys a tiny sliver of a not terrible moment in their eternal lives cause boy does Tyrus and Astarion got it rough and i love it but also wanna let them take a breath.

Any who hope I didn't butcher the characters too badly, Don't judge on my work, check out Perfect slaughter for yourselves! (Though beware dead dove, definitely take in the tags before you read)

It had taken 87 years, but finally, the stars aligned.

Tyrus couldn't let the chance pass them by, as he didnt know when another perfect night would arrive. Cazador so rarely let Tyrus bring in prey, and rarer still on the same night as Astarion.

"Come, darling, I'll help you find a mark." Astarion called to Tryus as the spawns started dispersing after receiving orders.

"Surely he doesn't need his hand held anymore astarion." Violet teased, her sharp eyes going between them wonderingly.

"It's about not being punished. Do you think the master will stop at tyrus' incompetence or would he then look to the one who trained him?" Astarion gave a sarcastic tap against his temple, "i know you rarely use it darling, but if you don't stretch those mental muscles they will degrade you know."

Violet hissed, showing her fangs but she left without another word. No doubt fearing standing there arguing was eating into her hunting time.

Astarion flashed a victorious smile then looked more softly at Tyrus who happily fell into step beside the older vampire spawn. This was what he wanted after all.

"Lets try the elfsong for you I think." Astarion mused aloud only to raise a brow when Tryus shook his head, "oh? You've something else in mind?"

Tyrus had felt ill when he made this plan, but he knew now after so many years that there was no enjoyment without pain. His, astarions, someones. There had to be suffering to equal the scales.

"Homeless twins. Near the wyrms rock last I saw them." Tyrus wanted this part over as quickly as possible, "they run a scam where they pretend to be the same human, but their blood scent betrays them."

Astarions eyes lit up with interest and his step increased, "I guess we could spare an hour to look…"

Tyrus kept the pace, his eyes down and Astarion noticed, slowing slightly and clearing his throat to have the younger drow look up at him.

"Any particular reason why you've waited until now to speak of such prey?" A warning tone entered his honeyed voice, "you weren't attempting to spare-"

Tyrus couldn't help the burst of bitter laughter that spilt from his lips at the thought.

"This is the most selfish thing I have ever done." He admitted, "I saved them for when we could hunt together. I knew you would do better at securing them quickly."

"Well a night in our bunks is preferable too-"

"No." Tyrus was firm with his denial. He didn't do this, offering up innocent siblings so they could lay in the dark and wait for the next atrocity. Astarions step faltered but he caught himself and they kept moving at a quick pace through the city.

As Astarion stayed quiet, Tyrus knew he was waiting for an explanation.

"I-I wanted at least an hour… to-to show you something." Why were the words so hard to say? Why did astarions guarded look cut him to the core?

Tyrus was not well fed enough to blush, but he kept his eyes on the road they walked and pushed through, "i would like if we could secure our offering then- take a, a moment, before…"

No doubt astarion was burning with curiosity but tyrus was thankful he asked no more. Instead he had the drow direct them to these homeless vagabonds.

The twins were comely, by no means beautiful but their identical faces made for an interesting gimmick that was sure to please Cazador. Astarion took the lead, for which Tyrus was grateful.

He didn't need to do more than smile and wrap his arms around one woman's waist before her sister was drugged and asleep. She squirmed as she saw this, but Tyrus knew better than to let her go. He just held her still as Astarion force fed her the drugged wine and helped his fellow spawn stow them both in a secure location they could return to in an hour.

Astarion brushed off his doublet and smiled at Tyrus when the drow used his cantrip to clean the dirt desperate fingers had left on him. They were taking a risk not immediatly returning but Astarion said nothing of that, instead cocking his head at Tyrus.

"So, where too now?" He asked.

Tyrus lead the way, checking homes as they found one that didn't prevent them entry. An abandoned home filled with dirt and vermin that Astarion eyed with distaste and thirst warring in his face.

"You cannot be thinking of sneaking a drink." Astarion in an unbelieving tone, "you cannot be that dense even after all these years."

Tyrus was cleaning up a small amount of space, using the weave to clear the dirt and scare away the rats, "no,no. I would never." He shuddered, remembering with vivid detail the consequences of taking blood from anywhere but cazadors' hands.

Instead he sat down in the cleared space and pet the floor next to him. Astarion was cautious but less so than any of their siblings. He lowered himself with grace and looked about warily.

"A nice little hovel. I can see why you just had to show me."

Tyrus gave a shaky breath and smiled at the Spawn who had made the years just slightly less terrible then they could have been. He pulled from his pocket some fleece and reached into the weave as he spoke.

"Close your eyes for a moment, they might take a bit of time to adjust…" then he spoke the incantation, pulling the impossible through to the possible.

Astarion hadnt closed his eyes so it was with a fearful shout that he slammed his shoulders back against the wall as the major image illusion unfolded around them.

Grass sprung up, earsing the floorboards, as the world expanded, grey skies and dark trees filling a twenty foot space. Tyrus held onto his concentration even as Asatrion swore, gazing up a stormy sky just before the rain broke, sunlight diluted by the clouds but clearly day in a forest clearing.

They could smell the ozone, the scent of wet foliage strong in the air. A light breeze tingled their skin but no illusion could ruffle their clothes which stayed static in this moment. They could hear the soft rumble of the thunder and the rustle of the leaves. Tyrus turned to look fully at his companion once the spell was fully cast and was horrified to see tears starting to spill.

Astarion lifted a shaky hand to clasp over his mouth as his eyes were blown wide, taking in the sight. He had only shed two tears but as starved as they were kept, he may as well have been sobbing.

"Oh, I'm sorry! This-this was meant to be- i-i'll cancel it, hold on." Tyrus prepared to drop it, but astarions hand shot out, grasping his forearm.

"Don't you dare!" He hissed, "don't you give me this just to take it away!"

Tyrus stopped, then carefully and slowly placed his hands over astarions, nodding his agreement, "I won't. We can stay here for as long as… well twenty minutes or so anyway."

Astarion paid no heed to the time limit, instead taking in the view, seemingly trying to imprint it into his mind. He didn't move his grip, so Tyrus settled for petting Astarions hand gently and looking around himself.

"I don't remember… where this is." Tyrus felt he owed Astarion an explanation but it was difficult. So much was gone, so many important things.

"I think I had a family? And, and we were… i've no idea why i was here, or when… but i remember the storm" they both looked at it now, rolling lazily towards them, "i remember thinking it was beautiful."

"It is…" Astarion suddenly gave a choked laugh, "we can never speak of this."

"I know." Of course Tyrus knew that. Cazador was strict with how much access his spawn had to the weave. He'd be furious they had experienced even a second of sunlight, illusioned and storm dimmed as it was.

Tyrus looked down as Astarion moved his hand from forearm to clasp with Tyrus' fingers. The High elf looked him in the eye as he gentle brought the drows hand to his lips, a chaste kiss planted on his knuckles, featherlight but filled with emotion.

"Thank you… Tyrus…" Astarion sounded breathless, his voice hushed as another roll of thunder broke, "I will never forget this… thank you."

The image faded around them, a silence falling as reality reasserted itself. Astarion still had his hand and Tyrus realized that neither of them were breathing.

Astarion closed his eyes then took a shuddering breath before opening them, his face a mask of mischievous once more. He kindly returned tyrus' hand to its owner and stood in one graceful movment.

"We should be off"

"I-i have one more-" Tyrus stuttered, trying to offer another casting. He didn't want the moment to be over, did not want to return to their lives so soon.

Astarions smile was sad but kind as he offered a hand to the drow, "best not live in dreams darling, magnificent as they are."

Tyrus squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the burn of tears unshed for a long moment before he too let go of the dream. They had a single moment where they were not spawn, but free under an untamed sky. A moment that was as illusionary as the spell itself.

He took Astarions hand, standing and nodding. It was time to return to what was real for no amount of trickery would stop cazador from finding them if they didn't return themselves.

Their hands fell apart, palms still carrying the warmth of the other. Then the two left the hovel and went to collect their offering to their cruel master.

Above the city, a storm crackled, beginning to roll across the night sky…

[borealwrites]

For today’s @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt!

See Me Burning

Fandom: Witcher

Pairing: A hint of Geralt/Jaskier

Warnings: Temporary Character Death, Minor Violence

Other Tags: Storytelling, Myths and Legends, 2nd Person POV (sort of), Alternate Universe—Modern, Alternate Universe—Canon, Canon Typical Racism

————

You are a storyteller; myths and legends are your bread and butter, and you’ve recently learned a new one you’re dying to share. Trapped in a pub by a summer storm, you find yourself with an audience eager to hear your stories. With a grin you settle in and begin your tale:

“It started with an auspicious birth; a nobleman born during a glorious meteor shower, with eyes bluer than flame and skin that practically glowed in the light of the torches. A strong and healthy baby, who cooed and giggled from his first breath, watching the world with wide, excited eyes.

“As the boy grew, he was deeply loved by his family. An intelligent and curious child, he spent his days devouring every bit of knowledge he could find. Especially if it pertained to the stars. The boy loved the stars and would spend hours staring up at night, and, on occasion, reaching up as though to touch them. Of course, he was unable to reach them and eventually turned his attention to the ground, flowers being as close to the stars as he could get.

“The boy grew into a young man, and he left his home for further schooling. There he learned more of the world and delighted in it. Out of all the heaps of knowledge, he especially fell in love with music. Oh yes, the stars were his first love, but music joined flowers as his second, and he decided his path forward was to be a bard. All great bards had stage names, and so he called himself Jaskier, or perhaps Dandelion, or Ranunculus, or some other flower name. Something pretty, delicate, and stubborn.

“Jaskier set off to explore the world, a lute in hand. Everywhere he went he saw hardship like he had never experienced or seen, and found himself dismayed. He began to sing songs of hope so that he might lift people’s spirits.”

You stop here and glance around at your audience. “This is a myth,” you remind them. “Things are about to get fantastical, as myths often do. But it’s not real, of course.”

They chuckle, and you continue on.

One day, he met a monster in the shape of a man. A witcher. Jaskier had of course heard all the stories about witchers, and especially this witcher. The Butcher of Blaviken, the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. Though at the time he was simply the Butcher. Full of love for the world, Jaskier befriended the witcher, seeing past the man, past the monster, and to the soul inside. They had many adventures; we all know those stories. Of The White Wolf and his beloved bard.

Eventually, as it always does, war came. Jaskier and the White Wolf were separated, whether by fate or by their own design nobody knows. Jaskier looked around at the world he loved, and saw pain and suffering even more than before. Saw that humans were hunting down elves and dwarves, fae and dopplers, gnomes, halflings, selkies, anyone different. That couldn’t be allowed. So Jaskier disguised himself and began saving anyone he could, rescuing them every night with only his beloved stars to guide him.

It seemed hopeless in the end. Nowhere was safe for those he rescued. They were endlessly hunted by soldiers and those who wanted to purge the world. Running from it could only last so long, and eventually, they were caught. A well-aimed arrow pierced Jaskier through the eye before he could warn anyone, killing him instantly.

But it wasn’t the end.

The place that would have become a battleground went still as Jaskier’s body began to glow. Bright, twinkling light radiated out of his body, attracting the soldier’s attention as he stood, the arrow vanishing in a flash, his eyes as bright as stars. His enemies were transfixed, staring in awe and fear. They couldn’t look away, as though hypnotized. He took a step back, and they took a step forward.

Jaskier turned his burning gaze towards the people he had been trying to save, nodded once, then turned and fled to the north. The soldiers followed him, ignoring their original quarry. Jaskier’s second in command, a fellow bard known only as Sandpiper, gathered their wits and began heading south, away from where the soldiers had been led. As they looked back to the north, they saw a new star in the sky; brighter than its fellows, it drew the eye. And Sandpiper knew it was Jaskier, distracting their enemies.

Eventually, Sandpiper and their followers arrived at the mythical land of Xin’trea, where everyone could live peacefully, without fear of the humans hunting them. And every night they turned towards the north to watch Jaskier appear in the night sky. We now call him the North Star, but he was originally Jaskier.

Some say that if you keep him at your back and head south, you too will eventually reach Xin’trea, but that the gates are barred against all humans, save for one. The entire land waits for Jaskier to return to them, to return to a place where there is no suffering or pain, where Geralt stands ready to welcome his beloved, the last person who can enter Xin’trea before it closes forever.”

There’s a moment of silence once you finish, and then someone in your audience gives an appreciative whistle. You receive many compliments, and even enough cash to cover your lunch as thanks. The storm has stopped now, and people trickle out or back to their tables. Except for one couple; two men, one with long silver hair and the other with short brown hair. You ignore them and return to counting your money. Without asking, the second man settles into the chair across from you.

“An excellent story,” he says. “But I don’t think you got the ending quite right.”

You glance up from counting the bills and into a pair of eyes bluer than flame.

————

Find this on Ao3

[kaissauce]

WAKE UP HOMIE NEW HTSTW CHAPTER DROPPED WOOWOWOWOWOWOW

[writer-akihiko]

so mc running away i love it the angst 👌 so if its alright can you the same but with the dorm leaders?(pls do a good ending my poor heart cannot take it-༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

Dorm Leaders + MC Running Away

So I apologise for the lack of happy endings, if you want to call it that. The scenarios turned out much more different than the First Years probably because of the power gap I had in mind. Also, for anyone wondering, the Vice Dorm Leaders will have a shot of saving you next! When I get to it... Cut for length. Also please help to share because I limited the tags!

Warnings: Character Death [Not you or the main boy], mentions of abuse and emotional manipulation [On the Reader] and violent actions [The Dorm Leaders]

"I'm not going back."

"Wh... What?" He was astonished. "YN... I've looked far and wide for you- please-"

No words left his mouth as you stepped away from him, tears in your eyes and you were going to make a run for it again.

Malleus Draconia

Your words struck a chord in him. He didn't mean it, but when you said that you weren't going back, he almost lost control. What did you mean you weren't going back? You promised him to be his Queen!

No... he's not accepting this. His Queen deserved better. His larger hands encircled your wrists, stopping you in your tracks. No matter how much you tugged and pushed, Malleus' strength was beyond you. In your sole despair, you fell in his embrace.

Every ache and injury struck your core, as you cried your heart out. "I can't go back Malleus," you whimpered. "I... I'm sorry."

Your hands gripped tighter onto his clothes. "I don't mean to fight against you, I-"

The Fae Prince sealed your bruised lips with his own, pulling your smaller form into his lap as he took in the moment of the bittersweet, longing kiss. "YN... listen to me," He said, his own ice cold tears falling onto your cheek, healing your wounds. "You never have to apologise for your suffering. Not even to me."

Malleus held you close as you drowsed off. The gentle smile hardened into a growl, as his back arched, black wings bursting out of his body. Malleus, in his dragon form, summoned the thorns to protect you, holding you as if you were his personal dragon hoard…

The principal, or more accurately the culprit, Dire Crowley was a fool to step out. It disgusted Malleus to his very core, his claws setting the very ground on fire as Crowley stepped closer. No words were exchanged between them. For all the suffering you faced, it was to be paid in tenfold as the dragon took a deep breath, releasing the fire in his chest.

"It was a fraction of her suffering…"

Riddle Rosehearts

He was ballistic. Riddle had been eager to bring you back immediately, but the sheer refusal and attempt to run away made him think that you hate him. He was blaming himself, sobbing to the ground.

Riddle's breakdown made you stop. No matter what you did, you still love him. Riddle's hiccups of sobbing paused at the feeling of your arms wrap around him. He wanted this, he wanted your warmth, he wanted- no… he needed you so badly he'd ceased to function without you.

"I don't hate you Riddle," You said, kissing his tears away. Your pretty Queen of Hearts had ruined the uniform he so proudly kept up with and Riddle himself was unkempt. Riddle cradled your sore body, letting you tell him your stresses and your breaking point abused over and over again by Crowley.

Riddle's heart softened ever so much for you, as he realised that he was to a fault as well. It was then he started to cry for you. "YN… I… I lost control. I know I can't be forgiven for the stress you went through so-"

"Rosehearts! You found her, how wonderful!" The jovial Principal cried out. In his hand was a magic tracking spell and that's when Riddle was struck with guilt once more. He doomed you, again. He… no, he refuses to end it this way.

Your loving self became meek, frightened by the aspect of being under Crowley's care once more. You trembled, reaching out to the hem of Riddle's coat. "Riddle… Please don't let them take me…"

He pulled you up, whispering to you. "When I cast my magic, run YN."

"Ridd-"

"Never thought you'd defy me, Rosehearts. Being a law abider and all~"

"Off With Your Head."

Kalim Al-Asim

"Y-YN?"

Kalim desperately hung onto your ankle, on his knees, begging and bargaining you to stay.

"YN… Please don't leave me again," He begged. "I'll… I'll stop dragging you to parties! I'll get you anything you want just please… please come back to me."

His tears wet your foot, as his grip left light marks on your ankle. Kalim never meant to harm you. He was so desperate to make you stay, but in his heart, he knew that he didn't have the strength to keep you with him if you desired to leave.

"How could you think that?!" You cried out. You stooped to Kalim's level, tackling him in hug so hard that he crashes to the ground. "I… I'd never leave you if I had the choice! I couldn't stand NRC anymore…"

You sobbed into Kalim's chest, wondering when it'd all end. You could never refuse Kalim, but what about everyone else? What about Crowley? Your spine shivered at the monster's name, wanting everything to disappear except for you and Kalim.

Kalim didn't know what to do. He didn't understand why Crowley would do such a thing to you. If Crowley was causing you such pain… He'd just have to get rid of the problem. You only deserve the best, after all. It's not his fault, nor is it yours.

You had cried yourself to utter exhaustion. Kalim gently wrapped you up in his jacket, cradling you to his chest. As if clockwork, Crowley appeared to the heartwarming scene, simply glad that you were going to be returned.

"Al-Asim, Dire should patch her up nicely-"

"No."

Crowley coughed. "What was that?"

"I said no," Kalim reiterated. "I have no reason to listen to you…"

"Since YN and I aren't your students anymore."

Azul Ashengrotto

How grateful he was to find you near the water. He almost turned red at the thought of you willing to search for him. Azul never thought you'd long for him this way, but you knew him, and you knew him well.

As if on cue, you looked beyond the trees to see your beloved, running from the sandy shores barefoot to be caught by your precious Azul. Azul doesn't have the best reflexes, trying to catch you without hurting you.

Azul took one good look at you, and the sight was enough to make him cry. Messy hair, cuts and bruises littering your skin possibly from running through the rocky forest, feet with sores from rocks… and tearful, sorrowful eyes.

Not an inch of sadness deserved to touch you. That was one of his core beliefs. He didn't say anything to prompt you to tell about what you'd been suffering. He knew. He knew every line of the story, and it made him ever so guilty that it led to this. If he just paid more attention to you, or at least try to.

Azul offered you everything. An ear to listen and his body for comfort, with his arms wrapping about you. If the simple action was enough for your forgiveness, he'd do it over and over again.

It was for a moment Azul held you, before running the water with you in tow. From the forest emerged the tweels, but what was behind you made you scream. Crowley, with his magic, retaliating against the twins' magic.

Azul wrapped you around his tentacles, drifting further into the ocean with you. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "YN, close your eyes. Don't look."

You shut your eyes tight as you did, hiding yourself in Azul's chest, away from the scene.

"May we never see you again, Crowley."

Azul and the twins in their merforms plummet into the ocean, deep down where Crowley would never come to touch you.

Idia Shroud

He wasn't surprised that the huge robot scared you. It was his secret project after all. He immediately let himself out of the robot, but he was hesitant to step into the forest. Idia was scared, but he still had to protect you!

"Y-YN..."

"Idia!..."

You stopped running, seeing your boyfriend pop out of the robot. Idia was quick to get over his reluctance as his panic shifts to your injuries instead. He wanted to cry out of joy from the mere chance of finding you.

Idia tried to treat your wounds as best as he could with the emergency kit conveniently equipped [he really did think of everything] although his wrapping technique was unkempt at best.

Idia's attempts to heal you made you forget of all the suffering. You couldn't help but laugh, realising how much you missed Idia. He knew that you needed this time. Oh, how he wanted to whisk you away...

But he might as well. You're his, right?

Crowley didn't get close to reaching you. Idia thought of it all. He tracked every move the principal made, fooling Crowley to think that Idia was with you the entire time, with the tracking device that Crowley so faithfully gave him.

"How desperate... it's honestly funny..." Idia scoffed at the idea of Crowley getting to you.

With the S.T.Y.X androids, Idia confronted Crowley, who was in sheer confusion.

"Crowley… burn in hell."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona didn't hold back. He couldn't believe you would say such a thign to him… The only conclusion he reached to was that you hated him. You hated his very core, just like everyone else… He was scared. It frightened him to the core that after everything he did, you still hated him.

"YN… stop fucking around with me," He said, grabbing onto your wrist. He wasn't about to throw a tantrum then and there. He had to get things straight. "Hey… tell me. Was I just a waste for you?"

"W-What are you talking about Leona?" You pushed against his chest, trying to get some distance but Leona was way stronger than you. The lion couldn't listen to reason. He simply went on about how you must've hated him, and how much you despised him.

"Did I mean nothing to you, YN?" Leona was shaking, his shoulders trembling from the mere thought of hearing those words.

You wrapped your arms around Leona, pulling him in close. "I never did… How dare you think that you stupid lion?!" You said, sobbing your heart out. You were equally hurt, but you never once thought Leona would think such a thing.

The emotional reunion was interrupted by the principal himself, pretending to be moved by such a scene. The false pretense of safety caught on to you, and you were sent into a panic, clinging onto Leona for fear of your life.

"I hate you!" You yelled, your body crumpling to the ground just as Leona caught you. "I hate you, I hate you. I don't want to go back, don't make me!"

If you were to scream anymore, you might collapse from exhaustion. Leona was quick to carry you in his arms, holding you close to his chest, where you were comforted by his heartbeat.

"Hoi, good for nothing principal," Leona called out, a single claw drawn out, igniting his Unique Magic.

"Move before I turn you to sand."

Vil Schoenheit

He was stunned to see you in such a state. He called out for you, and you stopped in your tracks. Was he that incompetent that he can't keep you with him? Did he not treat you right? Was his mere presence just torture for you?

Vil couldn't keep it in anymore. He needed to know. "YN… why won't you come back? Tell me, is it my fault? Am I not worthy of you?!"

The once prideful queen fell into shambles of insecurity as his mind won't stop painting images of you walking away from him, of you calling him your doom, of him being your captor… No, he didn't mean it…

"Was I the villain in your story?! WAS I?!"

Vil had never cried as much as he did. He needed to know that you didn't of him as a nuisance. He really was worthless if he made you feel unwanted… so please, he needed an answer.

"How could you think that, my love?"

You stooped to Vil's level, brushing away the tears that ruined his makeup with your very hands. Oh, your poor Vil… You were too selfish, thinking of your own suffering. With Vil in your arms, you felt whole once again. You gave Vil your actual answer, relenting every moment of your stress that stemmed from Crowley.

Oh… how his sweet potato must've suffered. Vil had a stuck of guilt, considering that he was under an Overblot as well. No matter, he had to make things right. For your sake, for his love's sake.

"YN, Crowley is trying to find you. But I… I have to set things right," He said, pulling you up.

The rustle of leaves had you on guard as from it came Dire Crowley, revelling in the scene.

"Schoenheit. You are supposed to bring LN YN to me immediately as I ordered."

Vil for once scared you. It scared you how enraged he was, and your heart wrenched at seeing the ink droplets by his hand.

"Vil, don't you dare-"

He turned back to you, whispering for you to run to Rook's safety. "Don't cry, my love."

You tried to hold the tears once again as you saw Vil shifting forms to an ink-like mess, this time his rage directed at Crowley. You could only run away, praying in your heart that Vil was safe.

[missymurphy1985]

The Betrayal (part eleven - final part) Tommy Shelby X Reader X Michael Gray

Warnings - mentions of domestic violence and sexual assault. Sorry in advance if you're a Michael Gray fan... Angst

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos

Won't let me tag... Check your settings please ☺️@maddiebaddie1 @emily-roberts

Once you knew the house was asleep, you crept down the stairs slowly.

Karl had arrived the day before, the poor boy was silent as a mouse for hours before he came to find Tommy at bedtime and clung to him. Seeing the poor boy so broken devastated you, and you knew there was only one solution.

The letter had arrived late last night addressed to you - one of the maids had brought it in, and you'd swore her to secrecy. A warehouse the other side of Birmingham was where you were told to go, and no other family members would be hurt. Taking Tommy's car, whispering a sorry as you started the engine, you pulled away from Arrow House and drove away, tears flowing down your cheeks as you sobbed.

Pulling up at the abandoned warehouse, you sighed. You desperately wanted to turn the car back, crawl into bed with Tommy, but you couldn't put him or the family who'd loved you like their own through any more pain. As you walked into the large open space, you saw him. Your heart physically hurt from the vision of him standing there with his arms open, beckoning you to come to him. You looked at the floor, taking those painful steps back to a life you thought you'd left behind. Painful steps leading back to pain and suffering.

"Now, now, that wasn't so hard was it?" Michael grinned, pulling you into his arms. His hands stroked your hair, breathing in your scent. You cringed as he kissed your cheek, and more so when he pressed his lips against yours roughly. Not tenderly like Tommy did.

"I have tickets for us back to America. We leave all this behind us and start afresh. What do you say?"

You nodded, meekly. Unable to fight, knowing if you did it would end up worse for you.

"That all you've got? A small nod? You're back with me, the man who fucking saved you and all you can do is NOD?!" He slapped your cheek hard, and you fell to the floor - freezing as you heard the sound of a gun cock back.

"Step back, away from her, or this bullet flies through your fucking face."

Tommy. How?!

"Oh Tom, what's wrong? Your sister in hospital not enough? How about Finn next time? Maybe Arthur?"

"No one else gets hurt. Apart from you of course, when I slowly slice your eyes from their sockets."

"And you think you'll get close enough do you?"

"Oh yes. You see, the people you paid to protect you? They're easily bought. Especially when they found out it was MY money that paid them."

The boys Michael had paid to protect him came out of the shadows and stood on Tommy's side of you. A look of pure rage filled their eyes as they glared at Michael.

"Didn't tell them you were a woman beater, did you Michael?"

He looked around nervously at the men glaring at him, and one of them picked you up from the floor gently, telling you you were safe.

"Didn't tell them it was a woman you attacked in her own home while her 7 year old son slept upstairs. Didn't tell them you raped y/n at a New Years Eve party for having the gall to talk to another man without you present. Or that you regularly served her beatings for dressing in bright colours. For painting her nails. For eating or drinking too much." Tommy edged closer to Michael, and was now stood inches from him, his gun pressed to his forehead.

"Boys, take y/n back to Arrow House. I'll meet you there when I'm finished dealing with this rat."

Arthur appeared out of the shadows carrying a black briefcase, nodding to Tommy and handing him a pair of black leather gloves.

"Sit him down brother." Was the last thing you heard as the kind man holding you walked you to the car and sat you inside, climbing into the drivers seat.

"Miss, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. My mother suffered at my father's hand for most of her life. As soon as we found out what he'd done to you and Ada, we came to Tommy."

You nodded, shaking. Whispering a thank you as the car took you back home.

You sat waiting in Tommy's office, Polly next to you with a bag of ice on your cheek where Michael had hit you. Hearing the front door open you jumped up and ran into the hallway, stopping at the sight of Tommy being held up by Arthur, clearly limping, clutching at his shoulder.

Polly pulled him through to the dining room and laid him across the table, stripping his shirt back and checking where the blood was coming from.

"Michael had a gun, got a single shot in before..." Arthur faded off, seeing you in the doorway.

"It's not deep, I can reach that - hold him down Arthur. Y/n you might want to leave..."

You hurried to the table and held Tommy's face in your hands, looking down into his eyes. For the big strong man he professed to be, his eyes were defying him - but only for you. When he caught anyone else's eye he went back to the strongman again.

"Look at me - just look at me. You saved me again, Tommy. You did! It's just a scratch, you'll be fine yeah? Keep looking at me..."

He screamed and writhed as Polly dug into his flesh, digging around looking for the bullet. You saw Linda rush in with a bottle of alcohol and towels. Arthur and Finn pinned him to the table with all their strength.

"Nearly got it - keep still Thomas!!" Polly shouted, a pair of thin tweezers now replacing her fingers as she slowly reached in and pulled the small bullet from his shoulder. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open in a pained silence as his wound was cleaned with the towels. Looking into your eyes, knowing what was coming next.

"Fucks sake, shit!!!!" He groaned, feeling the alcohol sting into his flesh, and the towel pressed firmly on him to stem the bleeding. You pressed your forehead against his, stroking his cheeks softly, whispering gypsy verses to soothe him.

He closed his eyes and focused on your voice as his wound was stitched and cleaned, and once he was patched up you helped to ease him off the table and onto a chair. He immediately pulled you into his lap, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and held you tighter than he ever had.

"Tommy - Michael, is he - " Polly asked, cleaning her hands of the blood. Tommy nodded, and she hung her head low. As much of an asshole her son turned out to be, he was still her son, and there was no denying her that loss.

"He wasn't my son, he was the devil's son. I have my boys right here with me," she smiled, pulling Finn and Arthur close and looking lovingly at Tommy holding you.

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

The call a week later had everyone smiling. Ada was awake - and doctors said she was fine to travel. She was on her way to a hospital local to Arrow House, escorted in the ambulance personally by Alfie himself.

Once she'd arrived safely, it was agreed that just Tommy, you and Karl would visit first, the rest of the family would visit later.

"Ada... I'm so sorry..." You sobbed, seeing her in the hospital bed, her face bruised, her eye still closed from the swelling around it. She shook her head and held her arms open, enveloping you in as strong a hug as she could manage. Karl peeped round from behind Tommy, and he lifted him up in his arms.

"See, I told you she'd be fine, didn't I? Now I think your mum needs one of these hugs from her big strong boy, don't you?" He placed Karl next to Ada on the bed, and smiled as the boy sank into his mother's arms, gentle sobs flowing between them as they embraced warmly.

"I hope you're this with our child, Thomas." You grinned, taking his hand in yours.

He turned to you quickly.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He pulled you to face him, his eyes flying to your stomach.

"You're...?"

"Remember that first night?" You smiled as his hands stroked over your belly - no bump yet, but he still felt it. A rush of pure love.

"How long have you known?!"

"Polly told me yesterday." You heard Ada choke another sob back as she overheard your conversation.

He sank to his knees, his lips pressed to your abdomen.

"Get off the floor you fool, you'll have me darning those trousers if you get holes in them!"

"Not a chance - you're not lifting a finger, not with my child inside you."

"I'm pregnant Tommy, I can still sew," you laughed. He stood back up and kissed you. A deep, loving kiss that told you everything you needed to know and more.

You'd never be hurt again.

You'd never be alone again.

You'd never feel unsafe again.

You would never know pain again.

You were home.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What Spring Does To The Cherry Trees, Chapter 10

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Narcos

Ship: Javier Peña/OFC (Eva)

Words: 5,322

Tags/warnings (whole thing): slow burn, h/c, a bit of violence (nothing as bad as canon), guns, knife injury, pain and suffering, the loss of a parent (both actually), angst, ptsd, javi being a lil prick but also soft!, (safe) piv sex, masturbation (female AND male), fingering, unprotected piv sex (in the words of the Spice Girls: be a little bit wiser baby, put it on, put it on), pregnancy risk, death of an animal, talk of cancer, so much internal conflict, insomnia, killing coyotes, snake bite, oh my god just get over yourselves already, some eye fucking if you squint, yearningggggggg, descriptions of food, jealousy, oh NOW he has a condom good boy javi, cunnilingus, panic attack, trauma, sexual trauma, trust issues, description of past sexual harassment and assault, descriptions of combat, fellow soldier killed in action, talk about STDs, SO MANY FEELINGSSSSS.

Summary for the whole thing: Javier Peña has resigned from the DEA and is back at his dad’s ranch in Texas. Life is slow and uneventful, until an unfamiliar face shows up at the local watering hole one night. Eva is retired from the army and lives in her old pickup truck with more than one ghost. She’s looking for ranch work and when her path crosses Javier’s, maybe they can help each other along in their lives?

Chapter summary: Eva decides to open up to Javi about her past. Javi, in turn, does something he should have done a long time ago. Chucho has plans for the future.

Please note that this chapter contains a description of sexual assault. It's not super graphic but just be warned if that's a trigger for you. Stay safe <3

A/N: MY BETA TOOK FOREVER I AM SORRY. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and tell me if you want to be tagged for the rest of the story! There is only one more chapter left!

Taglist: @chronic-nosebleed, @flora-screeches, @stevie75, @a-trial-run-on-paper, @mswarriorbabe80 @paulalikestuff @apascalrascal

The cigarette smoke is dry and acrid when Eva inhales it into her lungs, and it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. She hasn’t smoked in years and remembers well why she quit, apart from the obvious health reasons: it tastes terrible. She never quite took to it, but it served adequately to calm her down during her time overseas. Every soldier smokes, it’s one of their few deployment luxuries.

Still, she smokes the cigarette to the filter while pacing the room. It is with some relief that she finally puts it out in the ashtray, and glances up at Javi.

“Whiskey?”

He nods, and pulls on his boxers before leaving the room on light feet. Eva puts on her underwear as well. She’s still on edge, still needs to find her bearings, gather her strength, before she can tell Javi anything.

If she tells him. She still isn’t sure she will.

He returns with a bottle and two glasses, closing the door softly behind him. One of those glasses in hand, Eva retreats to the old corduroy armchair across the room from the bed, where Javi sits down. He sips the dark liquid and waits, his face  filled with questions.

Not a good poker face for a cop.

A shiver runs down Eva’s spine and she pulls her knees up in front of her in an attempt to keep some of her body heat from escaping her proximity. Quietly, Javi rises and brings her a blanket from the bed, before retreating again.

The gesture is simple yet kind, and it makes Eva clear her throat.

“Do you know what a desert fox is?” she begins hesitantly, as if her tongue is physically fighting the words.

Javi shakes his head and Eva makes a little face in disdain. “It’s a woman who wouldn’t be considered even a five back home, but when you’ve been deployed long enough, she’s beginning to look like a ten. There aren’t a lot of women in the armed forces, but that’s what most of them are called by their teammates on a daily basis.”

A frown forms on Javi’s handsome face. “That’s fucked up.”

Eva shrugs, and sips the whiskey, relishing the burn of it in her mouth, down her throat, into her stomach, where it slowly starts to loosen the knots.

“I didn’t join for the camaraderie. I knew it was going to be tough. I just didn’t realize what it does to a person to constantly have to defend herself against verbal attacks. Always have to prove herself. Hear that she’s only worth something on her back, or maybe bent over if there’s no time to get undressed. Especially my commanding officer liked to point that out.”

She shakes her head against the memories, and stares into her glass, unable to look at Javi. She doesn’t need his pity.

“There was a guy in my squad, Gary Dean. He was in my corner, never said a bad word. When he wasn’t on board with the bullshit, the rest reigned it in, even our captain.”

Eva remembers the easy-going and attentive man. Slightly younger than herself, he came from a military family and intended to rise through the ranks, but do it on his own merit. His father was a Major and Gary did not want to ride on his name. He was fair and intelligent, quick to laugh but never did it at the expense of anyone else.

“He…” Eva draws a deep breath. “He was killed. Our squad was ambushed. One second he stood right next to me, and the next… he didn’t. And I just stood there and stared at him, a bloody mess on the ground. I didn’t understand what had happened.”

She pauses when realizing this is the first time she’s ever told anyone about Gary. The hurt is crawling its way from deep within her bones where she has carried it halfway around the world, and it’s threatening to dissolve into her bloodstream and poison her from within. But just as she prepares to put down the glass and run away to be alone with the tears that threaten to rise, the uneasiness just evaporates through her skin and disappears into the air-conditioned room. She doesn’t break, rather finds the courage to go on.

“The next thing I know, I was hit.”

The memory of the pain blooms in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She closes her eyes and swallows, reminds herself that she’s safe, that there isn’t a bullet lodged between her ribs.

“Smack in the middle of the chest. I wore a vest but… Have you ever been hit in the chest when wearing kevlar?” She looks up now, stares at Javi who lowers his glass that he just took a sip out of.

“Can’t say I have,” he shakes his head. Eva smiles joylessly.

“It hurts, I’ll tell you that. And for a moment, you think you’ve been hit for real. The force of it knocked me on my ass. And I laid there, next to Gary who was already dead, and I was sure I was going to die as well.”

She lowers her gaze again, stares at the glass, wants to chug the rest of its contents, but fears she’s going to throw it up right away. The hardest part is yet to come.

“The firing went on, but it seemed so far away even though I was in the middle of it. And then everything came back, while I was being dragged to safety behind a wall. There was a pointy rock under my hip, I remember that so well. It was my captain who had pulled me to safety. I’m hit, I said, I’m hit, I’m gonna die. He removed the vest. Opened the jacket, tore open my t-shirt. There was no blood, only the beginnings of a bruise. He pulled down my bra and grabbed my breast.”

Javi inhales sharply, and Eva directs her gaze back to him. He has a deep line between his eyebrows, his jaw is set tightly, eyes are black. His anger, her own anger, steadies her voice. It’s easier to be angry than offended.

“When I realized what was going on, I started screaming. I kicked him. I managed to get up. Some other men from the same squad made their way to us. The captain said he was checking me for wounds when I became hysterical.”

She grimaces. “I took down three snipers with my fatigues half torn off, and they still called me hysterical.”

Javi grunts low in his throat before downing the rest of his whiskey. Eva feels the insecurity and unease radiate from him. He has no idea what to say, she can tell. And she has no idea what she wants him to say.

“I reported him, of course.”

“Good for you.”

Eva scoffs, earning a despondent look from Javi.

“They did nothing,” he guesses.

“With Gary gone, nobody backed me up. I was offered a deal. Honorable discharge in exchange for my silence, or a very long, ugly process that would end up ruining my career anyway. The word of a Latina weighs very little against that of a white captain.”

She doesn’t tell him everything. He doesn’t need to know everything, this is more than enough.

“Malparidos.” Javi gets up, finds the pack of smokes, pulls one out and lights it. He takes a deep, greedy drag and rubs his forehead as he lets the smoke circulate, then sighs it out.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

She shrugs, and finally drains the glass, certain that she can stomach it. The burn of the whiskey anchors her.

“It is what it is. But I don’t like having men on top of me, especially not if I’m on my back.”

“But what we did… was that okay?”

Javi’s dark eyes find hers in the soft light, his need for validation practically screaming at her. Eva has to smile.

“It was more than okay, Javi.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.”

She notices that he shifts his weight forward momentarily, like he’s about to come over to her. But then he seems to reconsider, puts out the cigarette and retires back to the bed. He looks at her as he’s sitting down and leaning forward, with his elbows resting on his knees.

“What do you want to do now?” he asks her in a low voice. Eva sighs deeply and rubs her forehead. A headache is lurking just beneath her frontal lobe, and she’s beginning to feel the lack of sleep. It has been a long night.

“I want to sleep,” she confesses, and unfolds gracelessly from the chair, leaving the glass on the side table and taking the blanket back to bed. Javi stands up, his hands finding her hips, pulling her to him. Eva’s face automatically turns to the side when he tries to kiss her. He lets go of her immediately.

“I’m sorry. Is this not what you want?”

The flight instinct is so strong it almost feels like a punch to the gut. Eva shakes her head, more to tell herself not to follow the impulse than as an answer to Javi’s question.

“I need to sleep by myself.” She forces herself to look at him. He’s earned that, he’s worth more than her endless sneers and unfair distrust. “Javi, I’m exhausted. I’ve never told anyone about… all this. Please. I just need to be by myself tonight.”

His face is twisted by an unhappy frown and a little pout, but he nods.

“Sure.”

“You won’t tell anyone?” Eva adds, suddenly worried that Chucho will find out.

“You don’t need to ask me that, Eva,” Javi calms her, his eyes softening. “Everything said and done here tonight is between you and me.”

She steps closer to him, one hand raising to his cheek, cupping it gently as she leans in for a kiss, brief yet sweet. Javi’s eyes are still softly closed when she wishes him good night, and leaves the room.

Not expecting to get any more rest that night, Eva nevertheless falls into a deep sleep when she’s back in the room across the hall.

///

Javi can smell her on his sheets. Her skin, her sweat. The richness of her juicy cunt.

He finally roped her in tonight. He knew from the moment she threw herself in front of the runaway cows that she had feelings for him, deep ones, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t confess to having them himself. He wanted so badly to take the first step but sensed that he had to wait for her.

He can’t remember the last time he was so uncomplicatedly happy and excited as when she knocked on his door. That she had chosen to come to him of her own free will marked the end of his months-long chase.

And she was good. To be with her, properly, pleasurably, felt like a personal victory for him. She felt so good. She knew just how to touch him. She wasn’t afraid to tell him what she wanted.

He wants more. He wants her every night, every day, just like now, without restrictions, just her body against his. He doesn’t even care if they have sex or not, he just wants to feel her skin against his. Have her sleep on his arm, curled up against him.

The experiences Eva carries with her, however, fill him with rage and a vague sense of shame. He knows that he’s not innocent when it comes to objectifying female coworkers. Except for Messina, there hardly was a woman at the embassy in Bogotá he hadn’t fucked. He would stare at any and every female ass that walked by.

And he had mistreated his informants, used them, given them hope, put them in harm’s way, then discarded them when they no longer served his purposes. He paid them extra, he fucked them with care, but he discarded them when he grew tired of them, or when he got them killed. He’s part of the problem, he knows that. And while he may not be able to make it right with those women, he can do it right with Eva.

He still has connections. He could find out the name of that captain, have him demoted, kicked out of the military, even. He could do that for her.

Except Eva would never forgive him for meddling. She’d hate him for it.

Fuck. Javi desperately wants to support her, let her know that he’s in her corner. A sympathetic ear. A shoulder to cry  on. Even a chest to pound, if that’s more her thing. He wants to calm her. He wants to comfort her.

He wants to kiss her.

He sleeps restlessly, itching to be with her again. When the morning comes, with shy rays of sun breaking through the empty dark clouds, he hears Eva’s door open. He gets out of bed, but the bathroom door closes before he’s out of his room. While she uses the shower, Javi gets dressed and goes to get breakfast started.

Chucho, ever the first one to rise, is already up and making coffee.

“Morning, pop,” Javi nods and starts to put out cups.

“You’re up early.”

It’s true: Javi is usually the last one of the three to join the breakfast table.

“Didn’t sleep much,” Javi shrugs. “And the rain stopped, I figured we got a lot to do today.”

“It’s going to be muddy,” his father points out. “We’ll see what we can do when we get out there.”

Eva appears, fresh and clean, her hair in a tidy braid pointing down between her shoulder blades. She nods good morning to both of the men but avoids Javi’s eyes. He feels his spirits sink, yet tries to not take it personally. It is so like Eva to completely ignore him, and he knows now that it’s just her way of protecting herself.

Still, he wishes he could take her into his arms, kiss her, breathe in the clean smell of her. Kiss her again between every sip of coffee. Make her laugh.

But he follows her lead, plays it cool despite his desire to woo her like he always does women. None of his moves work on her, he has come to accept that.

As they eat breakfast and exchange words about the work they have ahead of them, Eva thaws a little when Javi keeps himself in check. He already has her, he reminds himself, there’s no need to rush things. He has to be patient.

He’s rewarded with a quick smile from her behind Chucho’s back as they finish up and clear the table. She disappears out to the stable and soon after, Javi excuses himself to follow her.

He finds her feeding the horses, the greedy animals ignoring his entrance, Eva glancing up for only a second.

“You okay?” he asks, expecting precisely the answer which she serves him immediately.

“Fine.”

There is a dismissal in her voice, but Javi isn’t put off by that. All of Eva is sometimes just one great dismissal.

“Eva…”

“I need to be by myself, okay?”

“Want to tell me why?” Javi tries his best to soften his request into a suggestion. Eva, having reached Pablo with the grain bucket, scoops the horse its breakfast before putting the bucket down to add a portion of hay.

“Do I have to have a reason?”

“I’d appreciate it.”

She sighs deeply and leans towards the door to Pablo’s box, eyes fixed on the horse so she won’t have to look at Javi.

“Last night was good,” she admits in a low voice. “And I don’t really know what to make of that.”

“Just enjoy it?” he proposes simply, a tiredness descending over him. Fucking Eva with her constant questioning of everything.

She scoffs, glancing at him, and picks a brush from the basket hanging on the wall outside Pablo’s box.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

There’s a finality to her words that raises Javi’s temperature and makes him throw caution to the wind. To hell with taking it slow.

“Try me.”

“I already told you more than I’ve told anyone else, ever. What more do you want from me?” Now she turns to him, her honey-speckled brown eyes solid and harsh in the morning light.

“More,” he simply states. “I want more of what we did, Eva.”

“What, we’re going to start dating or something? And I’ll stay here and we’ll get married and have kids and take over the ranch – “

“Calm down,” he cuts her off. “I’m not saying we have to do anything like that. But if you enjoyed last night, why not do that again?”

She purses her lips, seems to hesitate before answering.

“Because it’s just going to make it harder on both of us when I leave.”

///

She’s a little surprised at his reaction. Had he honestly thought that she’d stay at Big River ranch forever? Live in the guest cabin or, God forbid, his sister’s room with Travolta staring down at her every night? Be in a relationship with him, become family? Ride together into the sunset and their happily ever after? And then what? She remembers Johnny’s provocation from earlier in the summer: You know he left his fianceé at the altar? She shouldn’t be considering the angry words of a young man with an offended ego, but can’t help it. Maybe there is no happily ever after to be had with Javier Peña.

Not that it matters. Eva doesn’t do happily ever after. Staying at the same ranch for two seasons at the most, she always moved on before she settled too much. Settling meant becoming accustomed and growing close to people. It meant forming bonds that only hurt to break. It wasn’t worth it. She was happy enough by herself, with her poetry books and her truck. She has it better than many other veterans: she has all her limbs and isn’t as plagued by past combats as others are. She has enough money for what she needs, which isn’t much.

She saddles Pablo and rides out before the others, seeking the peace of mind she can only find with a herd of cows. The air is fresh and the sun has ascended onto the clear blue sky, spreading a comfortable warmth that is more than welcome after weeks of heat. Urging Pablo into a thoughtful trot through the mud, Eva inhales deeply, filling her lungs with the first, subtle hint of summer's end.

Maybe it's time to start thinking about where the road is going to lead her next. Things are starting to feel complicated. She doesn't want complications.

Horses are uncomplicated. Eva smiles to herself as she feels the muscular animal beneath her, and the words of Neruda come to her:

Their necks were towers

cut from the stone of pride,

and behind their transparent eyes energy raged, like a prisoner.

There, in silence, at mid-day, in that dirty, disordered winter, those intense horses were the blood the rhythm, the inciting treasure of life.

I have forgotten that dark Berlin winter.

I will not forget the light of the horses

“Prometo,” she vows to Pablo as he takes her over the muddy fields, “no olvidare tu luz.”

The herd seems relieved that the weather has changed. As Eva rides among the animals, the wet smell of their hides invades her nostrils, and the restless lows her ears. The animals want to move, stretch their legs, find fresh grass. She circles them, keeping them in check as she waits for the other farmhands. Dolly, her little rescue calf, comes scuttling towards her, and she gets off the horse to offer her an apple.

“Here you go, sweetheart. But don't tell anyone. You know what Chucho thinks of this.”

Dolly devours the apple and proceeds to lick the palm of Eva's gloved hand, then butting it to show that she wants pets. Eva obliges her, smiling tenderly as she pulls her glove off and scratches the forehead before tracing her fingers down to the nose. Dolly snorts happily and closes her eyes and for a long while, Eva silently and simply enjoys the company of the animal. The sun softens her muscles and pulls a small smile out of her, Dolly provides a sense of consistency and peace that no human has been able to since her parents died.

Except maybe Javi. The insight is unwelcome and Dolly grumbles when the scritches stop temporarily. Her throat suddenly dry, Eva murmurs an apology to the cow, and resumes her petting as she tries to put together the pieces of the revelation.

Javi. He has been nothing but annoying all summer, but there has been a comfort in that. When shit really hits the fan, he's there, ready to help. Hell, he took a chance on her on the very first night they met, got her to the ER, offered her a place to stay. In Javier, she recognizes a trauma much like her own, not just from having lost a parent too soon, but also the irreparable damage that war does on a human being. He may be a flirt and a tease, but his eyes betray his internal turmoil. She sees it in his relationship with Chucho, too: they treat each other with a newfound respect and familiarity, not the deep connection of a child and a parent who have always gotten along. In spite of all of his shortcomings, Javi really makes an effort to be a good person. Perhaps more of an effort than she does.

“Mierda,” she sighs, looking at Dolly. “Can we switch, you think? Being a little cow such as yourself seems so much easier.”

The sound of horses approaching makes Eva turn her head. Chucho, Pete, Miguel, and Johnny are almost with her, and she gives Dolly a few brisk pats on the back.

“Go on now, go find your mama, we're moving out.” Dolly isn't too happy about this but when Eva swings herself up into the saddle, the calf disappears among the rest of the animals. Steering Pablo between the cows, Eva welcomes the day's labor and how it pushes other issues to a dustier corner at the back of her brain.

The riders spread out, but Chucho joins Eva.

“I need to talk to you.”

Dread seeps into her bones, and she steels herself, her body and mind turning stiff.

“What's your plan?” the old man asks her bluntly, and Eva looks at him, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“How long did you plan on staying here?”

She shrugs. “I usually stay for a year.”

“And then what? On to the next place?”

“That's right.” What's his point? Does he know what happened last night? Is he going to give her a lecture on sleeping with his son - oh, please, merciful God, not that, anything but that!

“Miguel is moving to Oregon. His son and his family have a farm there and they need the extra hand,” Chucho tells her calmly, as if he didn’t notice her discomfort. “This means I'm going to need more help.”

When Eva doesn't answer, he looks pointedly at her. “I’m letting you know you're welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

Stay? In the Travolta room? Evade Javi’s puppy dog eyes at breakfast every day? The thought is distressing, implies too much.

“You can live here or get a place in town,” Chucho continues, ignoring her fidgeting. “Think about it. I enjoy having you here, Eva.”

With that, he urges Zorro on, and leaves Eva to stare incredulously after him. Relief makes her feel weightless - he said or did nothing that suggested that he knew what had transpired under his roof last night - but the decision looms over her, weighs her down in the saddle. Fuck. It would have been so much easier to just thank him for the hospitality and the work, have a good life, and leave.

“We'll take them to the pastures to the east of the ranch,” Chucho calls out to the group, “then go home for lunch.”

Eva frowns as she urges Pablo into a canter. Why isn't Javi bringing them them lunch today? Is he moping? Angry? Doesn't wish to see her?

What do you care? she barks at herself before putting Javi out of her mind to instead focus on the job.

///

“Can we talk?”

Eva looks up from her book, of which she hasn't been able to read a single word since Javi's pickup truck returned to the homestead. Sitting on the porch of the guest cabin, she had stared down at the page, refusing to look up, but noted that he went straight into the main house. He appeared back onto the front porch after only some ten minutes, however, and immediately walked across the yard towards the cottage. Towards her.

She wants to tell him no, ask him to leave  her be, but knows that she's not being fair. He deserves more than that. So she meets his gaze, nodding, and puts the book down. Javi gestures towards the truck.

“Let’s go somewhere? Drive out to the cattle or something?”

The suggestion suits her fine. After lunch, Chucho had her stay behind to receive a delivery of oats that kept her busy for the rest of the afternoon. She had opened bales and forked hay, a job that had been procrastinated during the heatwave because of its dusty nature. She wouldn't mind checking on the cattle before dinner.

“Sure.”

They drive out in silence. The evening air is pleasant, not too warm, not too cold, so the side windows are open and Eva lets her arm hang out. The breeze caused by the speed feels good on her skin, clean from the shower she took after her afternoon on the hay loft. When they reach the herd, Javi stops at some distance from them, and kills the engine. For a moment, his hands stay on the wheel while he stares through tinted sunglasses at the cattle.

“Pop told you Miguel's quitting?” he finally asks.

“He did,” Eva acknowledges. “He asked me to think about... staying.”

“Will you?”

“That's a big question to ask, Javi.” Eva stares at her hand resting on the door, gleaming golden in the rays of a sun beginning to set.

“I think I have a right to ask it.”

She feels his gaze on her and turns her head to face him. His back is straight and his forehead furrowed, but there is a gentle hopefulness softening his lips.

“I guess you do,” she nods. “And I think I have the right to say that it would be complicated to stay. My truck's in working order, I have what I need in it, I've been doing this for years, Javi, I don't need anything else.”

“You can't hide behind the memory of your dead parents for the rest of your life, Eva,” Javi points out cruelly, yet without raising his voice. “You can't live your life in a truck left to you by a father who pulled you away from everything you knew and whom you remember as some kind of saint just because he nursed your sick mother to the end. Life isn't just about some old poetry books and pedestals to dead loved ones.”

Rage rises like bile in Eva's throat but never erupts, only leaves her feeling hollow and sad. She pulls her gaze away from him, hangs her head.

“Don't, Javi.”

“If you want to go because you don't like it here and because you don't like me, you can leave anytime you want to. But if you want to leave because you're facing the choice of going back to what you've been doing, or doing something completely different, something that forced you to actually trust another person, well...” He shrugs. “Then I'd invite you to think really long and hard about what it is that you're afraid of.”

“I'm not afraid,” Eva protests feebly, so quickly that it's difficult to pretend that it's even remotely true.

“I know I haven't done right by you, Eva, and that I may not deserve it, but I'm asking you for a chance.”

He clears his throat, pauses to wet his lips.

“Eva... I... I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees.”

Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos. The ending of her favorite Neruda poem, the first one she memorized as a young girl. Her chest feels constricted, her head light. How did he know? Has she told  him at some point that she no longer can remember? Why would he pick that one?

“Eva?”

She realizes that she's been quiet for a while, so she forces herself to look at him again, and finds herself drowning in the plushness of his lower lip, separated from the upper one as he anxiously awaits her answer. But she has no idea what to say, except that wherever he read the poem, he remembers it wrong: it's not to, it's with. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

And she can't tell him that, not when he's reaching out like this, making a huge effort to understand her world. Showing her that he cares. It's just a word, it doesn't matter. Except of course that it does, there's a world of difference between to and with, especially in poetry. Especially in this piece of poetry.

She swallows, finds her voice, such as it is.

“Where did you read that?”

“I drove into Laredo today. Passed by the public library and decided to go in and give poetry a chance. That one caught my eye.”

“You do know that it's about a love affair which burns brightly for a short time, and then fades away?” she asks, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. Javi frowns and shakes his head, a dark lock dancing on his forehead.

“No, it doesn't. It's a man speaking to a woman who has eluded him time and time again but is now a part of his world, and his love makes her bloom like a cherry tree.”

“That's a little sexist, don't you think?”

“Your interpretation is just tragic,” he counters, and now there's a grin forming on his lips. “And besides, who's to say whose interpretation is the right one?”

“I think I know Neruda better than someone who just read his first poem just a few hours ago,” Eva scoffs, grateful for the change of topic. It's a lot easier to bully Javi about his lack of literary insights than to talk about the future with him.

“Or maybe I provide a fresh perspective,” Javi counters, sitting back with a smug smile. Eva rolls her eyes and considers telling him about his word mix-up, when Javi speaks up again.

“I'm serious, though. Please, Eva. Just think about it.”

Eva still has no idea what to say. Her head is overflowing with opposing feelings, emotions battling reason, her gut still telling her to run, her heart wanting to stay.

Yes, her heart, her silly little heart which is beating life into the dark rooms of the abandoned house of her body, drawing the curtains to the sides to let the light in. To let Javi in. She wants that.

“Fine,” she finally sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

“You could sound a little more excited about it,” Javier grunts. Eva looks up at him, frowning, only to find that he’s smirking at her.

“Kidding!”

“You’re pushing it,” she warns him.

“You like that about me,” he replies jovially as he starts the engine and turns the truck around, heading back home.

[clairecrive]

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔���🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

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[bukojuiice]

something in the rain   — todoroki shoto

ೃ you and shoto were once childhood best friends and sweethearts who had lost touch and communication. 12 years has passed since then, and on a fated summer day in june, there was something in the rain that brought two lost souls back to each other’s arms.

ೃ  pairing: shoto todoroki x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: childhood friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff

ೃ  warnings: none! 

ೃ wc: 1k

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ song inspo: film out by bts

Puppy Love…

What a sweet and trivial concept.

Was it not?

You and Shoto met each other at the tender age of 7. Roughly two years into his intense and odious training brought upon him by his father. His mother who still unwaveringly continued to support him, would sneak the half and half boy out in between his trainings. Whether to bring him out to play in the local playground, run around in the flower fields, or to just go shopping in the local grocer. These simple things were enough to make the boy happy. Even for just a short moment.

Then, during one fated day, the sun was about to go down, and no other child was frolicking around the playground.

It was just you.

Alone on the swing, your eyes cast down on the ground, wriggling your feet and dipping them into the play sand. You hear a faint creaking sound of the seat next to you and now you were accompanied by a boy the same age as you were. Heterochromatic eyes filled with innocence and love, a smile that looked like it never left the curves of his face, floofy half red and white hair that gave him a very distinct yet striking appearance.

“Why are you all alone?” He inquires, tilting his head. “It’s almost night time too. It’s going to get scary…”

“You came here alone too.” You snapped back, averting his gaze and your mouth forming into a pout.

He shakes his head, “No I didn’t. My Mommy is just there.” He points to a faint silhouette of a woman not far from the two of you.

“Oh.” You blink. “Well, um- my house is just over there! So, my parents don’t need to always keep an eye on me!” You cross your arms, pointing to your house a few feet away from the playground.

“You’re lucky. My dad keeps an eye on me a lot. He’s scary most of the time too and I think it’s because of my quirk…” His shoulders visibly slump as he breathes out a hefty sigh. “Mommy takes me out to go play when I’m done with my training and I’m happy because of it!”

“D-do you wanna play on the slide?” You ask him, twiddling with your fingers. A faint shade of pink present on your cheeks. “If it’s okay, I wanna share my happiness with you!“

His eyes sparkle. “Sure! But…. wait! I don’t even know your name yet!”

“Ah my name’s (Y/N)!”

“I’m Shoto!” He grins, his eyes sparkling once more and you can’t help but become flustered even more.

 Oh, how you wish to see those bright blue and grey eyes again. His fluffy white and crimson hair, and just… feel his lingering presence in your life once more.

Why did time have to go by so fast?

Why did he have to leave?

After a year of feeling nothing but the purest and most blissful emotions whenever you were with him, that all came crashing down when Shoto and his family moved to another city. The reason why was because the neighborhood that you lived in wasn’t “healthy” for him or rather, it was too friendly and Shoto was getting attached to you even though he shouldn’t.

Heroes are built to be as strong as steel after all. Emotionally and Physically. Endeavor doesn’t want his son to be a soft little marshmallow who only beams so brightly whenever he hangs out with the little girl from the quaint neighborhood.

…It’s been 12 years since then.

You’re now a perpetually tired and no-nonsense sophomore college student. Studied hard enough to get a scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in Japan and now it feels like you’re drowning in a massive amount of school works and extra cred.

Now, looking back at your whimsical childhood life that was only made possible because of one particular Icy-Hot boy, you get a sudden feeling of euphoria course through you as you reminisce the good times.

There was a feeling of inevitability when you met Shoto.

There was something about him that drew you in.

Even at such a young age, you had the sense that the two of you would be together.

That a moment in time would come in where he would look at you in a certain way and the two of you would cross the threshold of friendship into something so much more.

Which proved to be true, as he has always felt the same way as you did.

The two of you knew each other a little better than everyone else.

All the little secrets shared through giggles and fits of laughter, the embarrassing moments shared in a small and dusty playground, and the sweet little memories that the two of you were too young to understand, but what your prying yet loving mothers both noticed.

Your lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. Like two shooting stars descending from the night sky. It was always fate.

It was fate that the two of you met. It was fate that the two of you would become friends, playmates, and childhood sweethearts.

But you guess it wasn’t fate that the two of you would remain friends forever.

You are still hoping for a sign in the sky or a word from the stars.

If the two of you are fated to meet again.

The soft boom of thunder and sparkle of lightning awoken you from your slumber.

You had fallen asleep whilst studying for your finals. Just ten minutes of rest. You whispered to yourself.

Those ten minutes ended up becoming an hour and a half wasted and instead of studying and memorizing the chemical formulas, you ended up dreaming about ramen instead.

Some pages of your chemistry book were creased as you had ended up using it as a pillow. You pay this no mind as you mindlessly rub your eyes out of habit, looking out the window, as rain had begun to pour outside.  

You continue to observe the rainfall as the soft sound of droplets hitting the windowpane was so soothing to you, giving you a momentary peace of mind.

Your short meditation moment was soon interrupted with the grumbling of your stomach.

“Mom and Dad aren’t home till 9…” You stretch your arms, groggily murmuring to yourself. “Might as well have a trip to the convenience store.” You hop out of your chair, reaching for a grey hoodie and matching sweatpants from your closet, trying to channel the comfy girl look as you head out.

You lock the door to your house, opening your umbrella as you whistle your way to the convenience store, taking each step carefully hoping you don’t step on any dirty puddles and hoping you see some cute little frogs on the pathway.

You stop in your tracks when you notice a black sedan parked not too far from your house. You raise suspicion a little bit until you remembered that a new family was moving in the house near you, so you decided to just brush off your skepticism.

“Welcome to Conbini! May I kindly ask you to leave your umbrella by the door?” The cashier greets you, trying to force a customer-friendly smile. They might have had a rough week and you don’t want to be labeled as those jerk kinds of customers so you nod at her and leave your parasol at the entrance.

“Oh my god.” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands when you notice that your umbrella was gone from the parasol stand, another customer possibly mistaking their umbrella for yours. You sigh in defeat. “You know what, heck it. I could care less at this point.” You pull up your hoodie, dashing your way back home, hoping you don’t end up getting sick from this careless situation you’ve put yourself into.

You stop in your tracks once again when you see a dashing-looking man standing in front of the gates of your house.

tall, well built, half and half colored hair that was wet and tangled, wearing a long and patterned coat, hands in his pockets… it felt as if he was waiting for someone to come out of your home.

Could this be…?

He was alerted by the sound of your steps rippling with the puddles in the pavement, turning to face you, his umbrella twirling with him.

His eyes grow wide at the sight of seeing you, and you notice his chest rise up, like a feeling of relief and of hope.

“(Y/N)…?”

“S-shoto?”

These are still the beautiful heterochromatic eyes you know and love. Only this time, it had a darker hue reflecting from his orbs. These are eyes who have seen and who have gone through so much.

You can’t even believe it.

Here he was, standing right in front of you. The boy you loved all those years ago.

Even more handsome, mature, and striking, and yet you could feel this broken emptiness radiating from him. Emotional scars that still run deep through him and… at this moment, you just want him to bare his heart to you. All this pain and suffering he has felt all these years.

You feel droplets of water sliding down your cheek like crystal teardrops.

“It’s really you…” You were about to drop the bags of food in your hands due to your blissful bewilderment but Shoto rushes to you with his umbrella, shielding you from the storm.

He was a bit too close and you could feel the heat rush up to your cheeks again, a feeling you have not experienced in so many years.

“Ah. I’m sorry.” He steps back a little from you and you can hear yourself internally monologue “nooo” as he takes a few steps away. “It’s been 12 years isn’t it?” He catches your attention again.

“It is. Yeah...” You nod, still looking up at him, a certain twinkle in your eyes and an inexplicable feeling growing in your chest. “W-what brings you here?” You add, your voice soft and sweet, whether you did this on purpose or not will forever remain a question.

“My family… we’re moving back here.” He replies quickly. solemn, yet there was a tint of excitement in his tone. “My father thought it was best if my mother, my siblings and I lived in a different house than him after… all the pain that he made us go through… and so… here we are.”

“Oh! Would you like to come inside and have some coffee?” You ask, pointing your finger to your humble abode. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” You giggle jokingly, trying to keep the atmosphere light and warm despite the cold weather present around you.

You start heading to the direction of your house, knowing that Shoto will follow you inside until… 

he grabs you by the arm, enveloping and pulling you in for a tight yet soft and comforting hug. A feeling that you’ve been wistfully longing for such a long time. 

A feeling that only Shoto Todoroki could give.

“I missed you so much (Y/N)… can you share your happiness again with me?”

In the midst of the rainy summer season that brought nothing but dim and grey skies, wet and damp atmosphere, and endless floods of sorrow, you were his spring. The rosebud opening in the watery sunshine.

The whimsical girl with grass-stained knees running around the meadow with him… like a prophecy telling him that new beginnings were about to come, your personality and your appearance reminded him of the cherry blossom trees that symbolized a time of renewal.

You were the rainbow after a storm. Spreading light and color to those around her…

The one who brought back light and color to his life again.

 “from all the memories stored in my heart”

I only picked up and connected the ones of you.”

  ೃ taglist: @chibishae34  @lovelytarou​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy @laudthingcat​

[damnlance]

21 please

Klance prompt #21

21. “Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Summary: Keith shows Lance his bruises and tells him where and when he got them.

-

It’s been eight days since the mission with The Blade.

The failed mission.

Keith can’t stop thinking about it. It's deep in his head. Flashes behind his eyes every time he closes them. It’s all over his body. Literally.

Dark purple and black bruises decorate his arms and legs and torso. Cuts and scrapes on his face. He deserves it, though. It’s his fault the mission went so badly. He swore he had everything under control. He said all the right things that he rehearsed over and over before landing on that freezing cold, yet weirdly humid, planet. He was calm and straightforward, but not demanding in any way. Or.. at least he thinks he wasn’t..

He still doesn’t know when everything went wrong. They were there to make peace with this planet, called Nagara, and offer them all the food, water, and supplies they needed to rebuild their planet after all the destruction and damage from the war 3 years ago. It was Keith’s job as the frontman and spokesperson to provide the aliens of the planet with a state of peace and safety since the war was over now.

But.. somewhere along the lines, Keith said the wrong thing. Or he did the wrong thing? Or he.. said and did the wrong thing at the same time and it made the Nagarians angry? He doesn’t know and he won’t know. His ears are blank to his own voice and words when he tries to replay the moments, seconds, before everything went wrong.

It doesn’t matter. He will never forget the way his mother looked at him after everything.

Her face was filled with pure rage. A look Keith has only ever seen if she was fighting the enemy. Never looking at him. And Kolivan? Oh, don’t even get him started on Kolivan.

Because what happened was so bad, Kolivan put Keith on a temporary suspension. Meaning he would sit out of all things ‘providing humanitarian relief to other planets’ and so on. That meant no meetings, debriefings, or socialization of any kind involving their mission to restore peace, and he would have to watch a four hour long video on what and what not to do during peace negotiations on otherworldly planets.

He was on complete lockdown and it was fucking pathetic.

Not only did he not bother to watch that stupid, long video. Instead, he kept himself locked in his room on the giant galra ship, not interacting with a single galran soul. Including his mother and Kolivan. He couldn't handle the scalding glares or the whispering in the hallways whenever he left to try to get some type of food in him. It was too much. And it’s what everyone was expecting of him. But not as Keith himself. As a mixed breed; a half galra, half human.

After six days of being temporarily suspended, Keith couldn’t handle anything anymore. It was too much and he was tired of literally everything, so he packed up all the shit he could gather, grabbed his trusty space wolf, and left in his galra cruiser without notifying anyone.

Now, here he is, a day out. The ride down to earth is.. pretty uncomfortable to say the least. His cruiser isn’t as big as it looks and with Kosmo tagging along and his giant duffle bag, it’s a little cramped. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s almost to his destination, and he can’t wait to land. Because yeah okay, he’s suspended temporarily, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get away for some quality Keith time. A little vacation never hurt anyone. And he knows just who he wants to spend his free time with.

knock knock knock!

Lance jerks awake. The first thing his tired eyes land on is the ceiling. It’s dimly lit and as his pupils unblur from the sleep still in them, he can hear the static of the tv that’s still on from some boring action movie he decided to watch. The once fresh bowl of popcorn on the coffee table has run cold long ago and the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the roof from the outside can be heard as well.

Lance sits up slowly and stretches his arms above his head, a yawn slipping its way out of his mouth as he tries to register reality around him. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and when he does, he remembers that it was a knock that woke him in the first place. He carefully stands, slipping his bare feet into the slippers on the floor just next to the navy blue colored couch, and walks over to the front door, hugging himself.

As soon as he opens the door, the pouring rain is louder. And Keith is standing there. Soaking wet with a big duffel bag in one hand and a leash that’s connected to the collar on Kosmo’s neck in the other hand.

“Keith!?” Lance is ten times more awake now as he quickly moves aside to let Keith and Kosmo in. “Oh, shit man, you’re soaking wet! Let me go grab some towels!”

“Thanks,” is the first word out of Keith’s mouth. It’s shy and embarrassed but Lance doesn’t pay any mind to it as he rummages through the towel closet next to the hallway bathroom. He comes back and wraps a big towel around Keith’s shoulders, taking the duffle bag from his hand and setting it next to the smaller couch by the bay window in the living room. Lance takes the other towel, kneeling down to begin drying off Kosmo. Kosmo licks his face as he does it and it makes Lance smile, tossing and turning his head away from the alien wolf’s freakishly long tongue. Once he’s finished, Lance stands and finds Keith on the couch, discarding his wet clothes. He walks over and sits on the coffee table directly in front of him.

“Keith?” He asks, the tone in his voice full of wonder and confusion, but also worry.

“I’m fine,” Keith answers, a sigh leaving his lips. He looks at Lance through his long, wet bangs and sends him a weak but reassuring smirk. “I decided it was time for a.. a small break.”

Lance doesn’t look convinced, sitting there twiddling his thumbs. “How small?”

Keith shrugs, losing their eye contact. “Couple weeks, tops.”

“Weeks sound like a long time to be away..” Lance bites his lower lip, his bed head, or couch head in this situation, making Keith want to reach over and pat his hair down. “I feel like there’s something else I’m missing here.”

A sigh. “Later, Lance, okay? I’m tired and wet and cold, and I just want to shower and lay down, if that’s alright?” He finally looks back over to those dark blue eyes in the dark living room and then, a small nod and a smile.

“Sure,” Lance says, this time with more confidence, but his eyes scan over the scrapes and scratches on Keith’s face. “Let me help you out with your suit.”

They both stand and Keith turns around for Lance to unzip it from the back. He moves his long wet hair over his right shoulder and puts his head down. The literal second that Lance grabs that zipper, Keith remembers how his body looks. And if Lance thinks his face is bad, just wait til he sees his body. Keith jerks away and it startles Lance as he almost trips over the coffee table.

“Keith!? What the he-!?”

“I-I just remembered!” Keith looks everywhere but Lance’s eyes now. “I smell horrible underneath this suit a-and I really don’t want you to smell me, so I’ll just head to the bathroom now!”

“What??” Lance scoffs. “A-are you sure?? I don’t mind a little stink, Keith, I’ve smelled you right after a fight with the-!”

“I’m sure.” Keith nods. He sends a nervous smile towards Lance and quickly leans forward to plant a quick kiss to his cheek. He grabs his duffel bag and b lines it for the guest room, closing the door behind him. Lance watches his every move, then turns back to look at Kosmo who is looking right at him.

“What was that about??” He asks the wolf. Kosmo tilts his head, ears popping up. Lance sighs and begins his walk towards his kitchen. “Come on, boy. You must be hungry.”

Keith wipes the foggy mirror with his hand, exhaling a breath of relief from the heavenly shower he just took. He takes the smaller towel from around his neck and dries his hair, ruffling it up in the process. His eyes scan his tired face and exhausted body. The bruises that decorate his pale skin are of dark purples and blues and blacks. They’re eight days old, but they still hurt like crazy. Keith eyes the one right below his left pec. It’s purple with yellow blotches and he presses down on it just to see and the pain that zips down his spine is more than enough warning to tell him to stop. A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he pushes his hair back and ties it up in a messy bun.

knock knock! “Keith? You okay?”

Keith nearly jumps at Lance’s voice. “U-uh, yeah! I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” The concern in Lance’s voice eases. “No rush, though.”

Keith sighs again. He has to tell Lance. Has to show him. Sure, he’ll freak out and never want him to leave again but.. if he gets it over with, there won’t be any more surprises if Lance wants to touch him again.

A soft smile graces Keith’s lips as he thinks about the man just on the other side of the door. They’ve been through a lot. Individually. Together. And even though it’s only been three years, they still suffer through the after effects of the war. They all do.

Lance gets nightmares. About a lot of things. He says his nightmares feel so real, and sometimes it’s hard to decipher if his nightmares really happened or not. It scares him and has left him very vulnerable in more situations than he likes to admit. There’s a lot more than just the nightmares; flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping at loud noises, never leaving his home because he feels like everywhere he turns, some species-less threat is gonna come out and attack him, Allura’s sacrifice. Yeah. It’s a pretty long list. But with therapy, his family and friends’ support, and Keith, he’s come a very long way to recovery.

Keith on the other hand got most of the paranoia. Even though he still works in space with his galran colleagues, he still can’t help but get that itch underneath his skin that someday, someone will turn on him and try to attack him. It could happen at any time. Any day or night. Anywhere. Because of this fear, he doesn’t get much sleep, and is very overprotective of his friends. Of his mother. Even his space wolf. His knife has become like a permanent extension to his hand, he never goes anywhere without it. Keeps it underneath his pillow, in his back pocket, in his boot, anywhere that’s easy enough to reach so he can defend himself if need be. He’s even accidentally pulled it on all of his friends at least once. Even on Lance, who barely even flinched at the time. It’s safe to say that no one can ever sneak up on him.

And somehow, through all their damage, Keith and Lance still found each other. It wasn’t right away. And it wasn’t planned, either. It’s just.. happened. They barely talked after the war ended, and unpurposely drifted apart. Keith busied himself in his work with The Blade, and Lance distanced himself away from everyone.

But one year ago, around Christmas, Keith came back to spend the holiday with Shiro and Curtis. Little did he know, they were gone for the holidays, so Keith, and Krolia, decided to stay with Lance and his huge family. Lance was so happy to see him, he couldn’t dare to say no. ‘The more the merrier,’ his mother Rosa said. So, while Keith and Lance spent the time shopping together and baking cookies and wrapping gifts and getting drunk on eggnog, Krolia learned a lot of the Christmas Earth traditions and Cuban recipes from Rosa and even got a few surprise presents from Lance’s niece and nephew. She cried because she didn’t know what else to do. Happiness always makes Krolia cry. Keith bought Lance a red Paladin mug with his face on it that he saw at some flea market on one of their stops on some random planet, and Lance bought Keith a giant blanket to keep him warm while he was away in space. The emotions were flying, the eggnog was settling and long story short, they ended up sleeping together, with every ounce of consent they could muster. It’s still one of the greatest nights of Keith’s life.

They’ve been together since then, five months, and even though they don’t have a label on what they are, Keith is happy this way. He likes being label-less with Lance. He likes having a home to come back to, with a warm kitchen, a warm bed, and a warm body. He likes the open space and how much Kosmo and Kaltenecker get along. He likes how much Kosmo adores Lance and his homemade space wolf food, just for him. He likes that Lance buys stuff for him to have when he’s away so he has new things to come back to. New slippers. A new comfy robe. New matching pajamas. A new toothbrush. Keith likes Lance. And everything that they are in the moments they’re together. And although he knows Lance is still grieving over Allura and that it could take a couple more years until he’s ready for a real relationship, Keith would take this over anything. Any day.

As he emerges from the bathroom, he doesn’t bother putting on all of his clothes, just his red paladin boxer briefs. He and Lance have seen each other naked plenty of times, and he’s very comfortable in his skin around Lance. Lance has that effect on him. So when he walks out in just his boxer briefs and a white cotton towel around his neck, he’s got absolutely nothing to hide. Except, maybe not giving Lance a heart attack tonight. Keith hides behind the wall just before the entryway to the living room and curses himself for what he’s about to do.

“H-hey.. Lance?”

“Yeah?” Lance says, something like food in his mouth. “Where are you, man?”

“I’m…” Keith sighs. “Can you just.. cl-close your eyes for a sec.. please?”

“Uh,” Lance shrugs, Keith can hear from his clothes rumpling up. “Sure.”

Keith peeks around the corner and sees that Lance’s eyes are sealed shut. Kosmo is on the floor next to him, sound asleep. His tongue is hanging out just the slightest bit as snores leave his mouth. Keith smiles at the sight and looks back to Lance. He’s so beautiful. This guy has done some much for him and more. Before the war, during, and now after. He’s the greatest guy that Keith could’ve asked for.. greater than that. With that in mind, Keith steps out from behind the wall and walks over to Lance before his brain tells him that this is all a bad idea. The living room is still dim, only illuminated by the television and the lamp next to the couch Lance is sitting on, but it’ll be more than enough light to see Keith’s battered body.

Once Keith is in front of Lance, he closes his own eyes, fists clenched down by his sides.

“Okay.. now on the count of three, you can open your eyes.. but don’t freak out. Got it?”

Lance lets out a small snort. “Yes, Keef, I got it.”

Keith rolls closed eyes and sticks his nails into the palms of his sweaty hands. “Alright.. one.. two.. three..”

Lance’s eyes open. The breath that gets caught in his throat is enough to send Keith’s gut dropping out of his ass and into the floor.

“Holy shit!” Lance is up, eyes roaming Keith’s entire body. “W-what the fu-!?”

Keith opens his eyes and is face to face with Lance. They’re almost the same height, Keith’s got him by a few inches easily, and the look on Lance’s face is enough to send Keith into cardiac arrest.

“I-I’m fine, Lance, really-”

“No, you’re not!” Lance cuts him off, wanting to reach out but too afraid to do so. Keith’s tone, muscular body is a canvas of dark colors and spots of different shapes. No wonder he jumped earlier, Lance could have hurt him even more than he already looks. A shaky breath leaves Lance’s mouth as he meets Keith’s dark eyes. “What happened to you, love?”

Love. The pet name actually sends Keith’s into cardiac arrest, he’s sure of it. But as soon as Lance cups his face with both of his big, warm hands, it’s over for Keith. His eyes begin to water and his throat closes up on him so that he can’t talk. Tears fall down his cheeks as he looks down to the floor between him and Lance. His bottom lip quivers and when Lance tilts his head back up to look at him again, a sob slips its way out of Keith’s mouth.

“Oh, Keith,” Lance coos, bringing Keith into a big, gentle hug. Keith hugs him back, sobbing into his shoulder. “Baby..” Lance whispers.

Keith just continues to sob. He didn’t even know he had been holding back for so long. But here, in Lance’s arms, he can feel everything that’s been bottled up coming out of his throat and from his teary eyes. Lance only continues to hold him, rubbing his soft hands up and down Keith’s pale bruised back.

Keith doesn’t know how long this goes on. How long he cries. How long Lance holds him. But somewhere in the middle of it all, they’ve moved to Lance’s room. Keith sits on Lance’s bed, wiping his red, teary eyes and snotty nose with a tissue. Lance rummages through his bathroom drawer for some numbing ointment that he recently bought for his back and feet from working out on the farm five days a week. When he returns, Keith is done crying. He sits up straight and removes the white towel from around his neck. Lance stands in front of him and kneels between his open legs. He stares at them. At the bruises and scratches and scabbed gashes.

“I..” he starts, clearing his throat from what has to be a lump forming. “I got this.. numbing cream. It’ll help a lot.”

Keith stares down at him as he talks, his voice is so quiet and gentle.

“Can I..?” Lance asks, looking up to meet Keith’s red eyes.

“Yeah.” Keith nods.

Lance uncaps the ointment, squirting a good amount into the palm of his hand. He sets the tube down and rubs his hands together. Then, he gently, gently, places them on Keith’s bruised thighs and begins rubbing the ointment around.

Keith clenches his jaw, hands fisting in the comforter on Lance’s bed. He lets out the air from his nostrils and feels the pain slowly turning into relief. He looks down and watches as Lance works his hands in circular motions, gently rubbing the ointment onto Keith’s injuries.

“..keith…?“ Lance whispers, eyes focused on his hands covered with ointment that’s slowly making his hands numb.

“Yeah..?” Keith answers back, looking at the ceiling of Lance’s room. Those glow in the dark stars are still there.

“How…” Lance clears his throat. “W.. Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Keith sighs. “..blade mission.. gone wrong..”

Something in Lance’s eyes darken. “What? W-when?? How?? W-Where!?”

“Um..” Keith can’t even look at Lance anymore. The worry in his eyes is too much. “A.. Week ago.. on some planet called Nagara. It was.. all my f.. my faul..” The tears are back. Keith blinks them away and sniffs quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. He can feel himself sinking back to that day, to that mission. He remembers it all so clearly.

They landed on Nagara. The planet was really cold. He and The Blade were greeted by a tall figure who looked similar to an earth bear. They were big, round, had dark eyes all around, sharp teeth and a snout. Three rows of antenna grew out of their foreheads as well as horns of all shapes and sizes going down their backs and spines. And giant sharp claws for fingers. They looked vicious. And they made it very clear that they didn’t like the Galra.

Keith made the first move. He spoke in a calm voice and made his intentions clear; he and The Blade were only there to help and provide the planet with anything they needed. They had food, water, clothes, and building supplies ready on their ships and were 100% committed to fixing up this planet and its species from the after effects of the war. But their King, King Arxuan, wouldn’t let them go any further until they explained what they were doing there. So Keith did.

He explained it all. Voltron won. Zarkon dead. Princess Allura saved the universe. Keith is the red and black Paladin. The Blade of Marmora is good. The Blade of Marmora is here to help. But Keith being Keith.. he’s not too good with his words. Everything sounded fine in his head. And when it came out of his mouth? Completely different.

“We are The Blade of Marmora,” Keith started. “We’re here to provide supplies to your helpless planet that has clearly been affected by the war and-”

Record scratch. Yeah, poor choice of words on Keith’s end. But they left his mouth so fast that his brain couldn't keep up. The King and his subjects didn’t like it one bit and before Keith could keep up with his offensive word vomit, the Nagarians drew their weapons and like a firework, everything went up in flames.

Keith didn’t mean to offend anyone.. and he didn’t mean it like that. But the Nagarians didn’t know or care how he meant it. They attacked within seconds of Keith’s poor choice of words and thank god for his team’s fast reflexes, otherwise his head would not be on his shoulders and he wouldn’t be sitting here on Lance’s bed.

Legs criss crossed on Lance’s bed, the strong minty scent of numbing cream filling the room.

His fingers locked with Lance’s as Lance rubs his thumb over Keith’s fingers.

Gently.

Domestically.

Lovingly.

Keith feels warmth bloom in the pit of his stomach as he stares down at Lance who’s sitting on the floor in front of him. Those deep blue eyes staring back so affectionately. Altean markings just barely glowing in Lance's dim room.

Lance swallows and squeezes Keith’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“I am now..” Keith shrugs, looking at the floor. “But these last few days have been hell.. and the guilt I have for almost killing my team has.. been..”

Lance nods, understanding. He comes up off of the floor and sits next to Keith. The second his arm goes up, Keith is there leaning into his side, nuzzling into his neck. His cheeks are wet with tears again and quiet sobs leave his throat.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Lance nods, planting a gentle kiss atop Keith’s head. “We all make mistakes. Some worse than others. but.. what matters now is that you’re here. You’re alive. And safe.”

Keith nods, sniffling as tears and snot run down his face. He’s had everything balled up until this very moment. The guilt. The shame. The way Kolivan and his mother looked at him. The way the other Blade members blamed him. None of that mattered anymore. Because here, in Lance’s heavenly embrace, he was fine. He was gonna be alright.

“You’re safe, love..” Lance reassures him. “I’ve got you.”

And he does. Lance holds Keith tight, holds him close. Lance lets him cry and doesn’t judge him. He’s just.. there for him. And it’s everything Keith needed.

Keith wakes up in Lance’s bed.

Blanket crowding his entire body. His long hair is literally everywhere around his face and neck and shoulders. The golden sun is shining through the blinds of the window, making him squint a tiny bit, and the pain from the bruises on his body are somewhat bearable..

There’s a smell hitting his nostrils that makes his mouth water and stomach grumble in a hunger he didn’t know he had. When he sits up, Kosmo is right there beside him, curled up in a ball, staring at him. Keith smiles at the space wolf and reaches to pet his head.

“Hey there, boy.” He rubs behind Kosmo’s ears, chuckling a little when Kosmo nuzzles into his hand. Suddenly, flashes of last night come flooding back to Keith’s mind and he groans out, covering his face. Sure, crying his eyes out all night long and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are was nice, BUT crying your eyes out all night long and and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are took a lot out of Keith. He’s tired. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. He just wants to spend the rest of his time away from work relaxing with the only person he wants to be with in the entire universe. And Kosmo.

And as if on cue..

“Keith?” Lance’s voice is soft. “You awake, yet?”

Keith looks over to the door and sees Lance popping his head into his own room. When their eyes meet, Keith can feel the undeniable spark between them and it causes his heart to do something funny beneath his rib cage. He smiles a bit shyly and brings his legs up to a criss-cross position, Lance’s puffy space themed blankets bunching up around Keith’s waist.

“Morning..” Keith answers, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

Lance’s eyes never leave his as the Cuban boy finally enters the room, two plates full of food in each of his hands. Keith eyes the food and his stomach grumbles once again. The noise overthrows the silence in the room and Keith has to put his hands over his stomach to silence the sound. It didn’t work.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lance chuckles, setting Keith’s plate into his lap. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re hungry, huh?”

“Shut up..” Keith flushes and looks down at his full plate of food. Organic eggs, two fluffy pancakes, sweet turkey bacon and a buttery biscuit with strawberry jam decorate his plate beautifully. All of his favorite breakfast foods right there in front of him. Made by the man right beside him with a matching plate of food for himself.

“Dig in!” Lance says, his mouth already full of food. Keith doesn’t waste a second and obeys the words from Lance's mouth. They eat in a comfortable silence, Kosmo moving to the ground to collect any scraps they throw his way. After a while, Keith clears his throat and musters up the courage to look at Lance’s beautiful face.

“H-hey, uh.. Lance?” He whispers.

“Yeah?” Lance is staring at him now, blue eyes boring into him again.

Keith can’t breathe and he finds himself having to take a really deep breath before he continues.

“Thank you,” he pushes out of his throat, “for everything. For letting me cry in front of you, and.. for not judging me for it.”

Lance stops chewing and swallows. Keith quickly takes him all in before he gets caught; Lance’s messy brown curls, his gorgeous tan skin all over his bare torso, those cute little freckles all over his body, his Altean marks. Everything about him is so breathtaking and Keith can barely keep his heart at bay.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Lance says, breaking Keith’s thoughts. Their eyes meet again. “I’m here for you no matter what, Keith. You have to know that by now.”

“I-I do,” Keith nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth. He sets his plate onto the bedside table next to him and scoots closer to Lance. As if completely on autopilot, he grabs Lance’s face and forces their eyes to meet once more. He stares deeply into those ocean blue eyes and fights the awkward urge to look away.

“Lance,” he starts, exhaling a breath that smells like eggs, bacon, and syrup, “I love you, so much. Thank you for always comforting me and being my right hand man.. you.. you are the light in my life, and I..”

Tears fill Keith’s eyes and to his surprise, Lance also sports some in his own eyes.

“I know,” Lance whispers, gaze moving from Keith’s eyes, to his lips, and back. “Like I said, you don’t have to thank me. I would do anything for you. Because.. I love you, too.”

The second Lance’s plate is out of the way, the two boys are kissing so fast, the air in their lungs can’t keep up. Lance pulls Keith close by the oversized t-shirt around his torso and clings to him for dear life. Keith does the same and cups Lance’s cheeks. Their kisses are full of passion, desperation, and love. And when they part, Lance is trailing those same kisses down Keith’s jaw, to his neck and his collarbones, kissing every visible bruise he can reach.

“I’m so happy you’re safe, my love,” He says between kisses on Keith’s neck. As he pulls back, Keith is smiling like Lance is his whole world.

“Me, too, Lance,” Keith answers, kissing the corner of Lance’s syrupy mouth, his cheeks and neck flushing red. “Me, too.”

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt)

[havvki-writes]

Every Night Another Ghost

I live for whump lol

Fandom: The Case Study of Vanitas Ship: VaNoe Tags: nightmares, reassurance, medical torture, memories, cuddling, whump Citrus Scale: Orange! Spoilers: Anime-onlys beware--I namedrop an important character from Vanitas' past! Word count: 1,148 AO3 Link: right here! Notes: I indulged myself heavily in my depictions of medical torture for this one. Consider this your warning!

---

“Brother!!”

The boy paused midstride, grimacing as he looked back upon his blond counterpart as he was pinned to the operating table by two of Moreau’s masked assistants. His entire body shook, the dirtied bandages rubbing against his torn skin as his pulse pounded in his ears.

“Oh!? Number 71, please don’t be so boisterous! You may rip out the tubes, my dear~” said Dr. Moreau, chuckling and sighing and shouting all at once in a cacophony of expressions.

He raised a trembling hand, reaching for him. Hot tears poured over his cheeks as he kicked and squirmed against the hands that grabbed him. He wailed with the futility of a captured animal. “Brother! Please, help me! Help!”

“Stop!”

The world slowed, and as each of the figures turned to face him, his stomach fell deeper, deeper, deeper...

“Hm?! What is the matter, Number 69?!”

“I...” He faltered, the words catching in his raw throat. “Use m-me instead, Doctor.”

The doctor released a squeal of delight, gloved hands flying to his face as he danced with glee. “Oh, my boy, you are too kind! You couldn’t bear the thought of not helping me, could you!” Grabbing 71’s arm, Moreau tossed him to the ground like a doll before tugging 69 into his place. He leaned his goggled face inches away from the 69th child, mouth stretched wide and foul breath filling the air around them as he ran his dirtied hands along the boy’s cheek. “I cannot thank you enough, Number 69!”

Frozen against the table, the boy could do nothing but relish in this moment before the pain.

And when the pain finally arrived, all he could do was wait for it to end.

The needles, each filled with bright liquids, would be inserted in his arms one by one, the sharp tip tearing through flesh and muscle before the viscous contents would find its way into his veins. Then there would be scalpels—several of them, in various shapes and sizes—and they would slice along his pale skin to expose his innards, nearby tubes sucking away his crimson blood as it would ooze from the gashes. And then there would be more injections, and more slicing, and more tubes.

As the agonizing pain shot through his frail body, and the gushing of blood against his eardrums drowned out the voices of those around him, Number 69 feared it would never stop, that it was his fate to remain Dr. Moreau’s plaything forever. However, despite all the torture, he could take solace in knowing that his brother was safe. Even if he refused to scream, even if he held in his tears until the bitter end, he could take it all knowing Misha wasn’t suffering.

And the knives went deeper, and the injections increased in dosage, and the electricity coursed through his veins; and when he wasn’t being taken apart, he was vomiting and trembling and crying silently into his pillow and—

“Vanitas!!”

He gasped, his whole body convulsing as he choked on the cold night air. Thrashing against the table—or was it a mattress?—he kicked and punched at the figures around him. Someone caught his hands midair and—

“It’s okay!” Noé shouted, gripping Vanitas’ wrists firmly. Vanitas squirmed for a moment, whimpering in the darkness as the haze over his eyes lifted. His chest rose and fell jaggedly. “You’re safe, it’s just me.”

As soon as Noé let go of his hands, Vanitas pulled them into his chest. “What’re… Where—” he choked against the tightness of his throat. Raising a hand to his face, he realized his cheeks were damp.

“Vanitas...”

“D-Don’t look at me!” he shouted.

Noé crouched at his bedside, watching him with a soft gaze and furrowed brows. “What’s wrong?” he asked, a dreadful sincerity swarming behind his violet eyes.

Catching his breath—but only just—Vanitas clenched his teeth, reaching to his coat at his side. “I said not to look at m-agh!” he started, but as he blindly felt for the daggers hidden in his coat, the edge of one of the blades sliced against his fingertip. He recoiled sharply, pulling his finger to his chest and curling deeper against himself.

The blood welled against the wound, a dark color in the lightless room, and Vanitas’ visage only contorted further.

As the decadent scent wafted in the air, Noé paused as the aroma filled his nostrils. He slammed his palm over his mouth, forcing himself to look away.

“You vampires,” Vanitas hissed, every vowel filled with venom and malice, “You’re all the same.” Silence filled the air once more, and in the pause between words Vanitas choked. “I told you... to let me sleep outside...” The anger slipped from his countenance, and in its place arose a terrible vulnerability. “Why didn’t you let me be alone?!”

Noé stood abruptly before rushing into the bathroom, flicking on the lights as he rummaged through the cabinets. Once he found his target, he hurried back into the room and fell to the ground at Vanitas’ side. Without saying a word, Noé pulled out a bandage and—

“Stop!!” His entire body stiffened. “Don’t you dare... Don’t you dare bring that thing near me!”

He froze. He’d never seen Vanitas genuinely terrified before, and he was unsure how to act around him. His heart ached for the man, and though he longed to taste the blood on his finger to get a glimpse into the memories that were troubling him, he knew... He knew that wasn’t what Vanitas needed from him in that moment.

Instead, he put the bandage back in the box, closed the lid, and kicked it out of sight under his own bed. As softly as he could, Noé lowered himself onto the edge of Vanitas’ bed.

“It’s gone,” he reassured, exposing both hands before him, spreading his fingers for good measure. Vanitas merely glared at him before hiding his face behind his knees. Not sure what else to do, Noé merely sat beside him in silence, listening to the muffled sniffles leaking through his fetal position.

Once the sounds had faded and Vanitas had stopped trembling, Noé stood to return to his own bed.

Vanitas grabbed his wrist, hesitating before squeezing tightly.

“Don’t go.”

Without hesitating, Noé climbed onto the bed and pulled Vanitas into his side, and as he wrapped his arms against his torso, the man uncurled against his side. He buried his face against his chest as the tears began to fall once more. Noé caressed his hands over Vanitas’ back, the gentle grazing of his fingers over the material of his bed-shirt eliciting more tremors to free themselves from his core.

Whether it was the warmth of Noé’s embrace or the beating of his heart against his chest, Vanitas wasn’t sure; however, he knew for certain that he was safe, and that was enough.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Reunion - Part 2

Summary: We meet up with our crew after they have left Barab and after Friday’s episode of the Bad Batch getting their chips removed. Hunter x Reader. Echo x Reader.

A/N: Italics - Past conversations

The quotes Crosshair says during his nightmares are directly from the Bad Batch episodes.  All rights for those quotes, belong directly to the geniuses working on the Bad Batch TV show at Disney.  

Warnings: Slight mention of a beating, nothing described.  Medical procedures.

If I miss a warning, just let me know.

Words: 4,608

AO3 Link

Drop some love, a comment or a reblog, it’s all appreciated.  If you want to be tagged, let me know.

Previous -> Masterlist -> Next

“We don’t usually work with regs”

“Grow up, Wrecker”

“If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?”

“An order is an order”

“Since when?”

“Good soldiers follow orders”

“He had us disobeying orders”

“I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem”

“Disobeying orders again over a kid?”

“You’re becoming a liability”

“You disobeyed orders”

“I did what I thought was right”

“You should have killed that Jedi, you disobeyed orders.”

“You never could see the bigger picture.  Now surrender.”

“Best stand down sergeant, make it easier on yourself.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Your move”

“Bad play, Hunter”

“You want to know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

“What seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” Lama Su asked Nala Se

The two Kaminoans looked on behind the one way mirror, “medic, what seems to be the problem with CT-9904?” asked Nala Se.

I looked towards the mirrored glass, “he’s having a nightmare”, I glanced from the mirror to Crosshair that laid on the med bed before me.  The Kaminoans wanted his inhibitor chip to be constantly activated and operating at peak efficiency; if they lost him, they would lose the backing of Admiral Tarkin, something they couldn’t have.  

How I wished Hunter was here?  How I wished I got to the ship in time?  I wished for a lot of things, mostly I wished that Crosshair’s chip hadn’t been activated, and that as the medic for Clone Force 99, I wasn’t the one in charge of keeping his chip activated.  Every time he laid down on that med bed, a little bit of me died.  I had to do this to my friend, my family, Hunter’s brother.  I tried at first to say that the chip was damaged, it wouldn’t activate, but they quickly dealt with my deception, in the form of a beating from two of the Clones who had taken me under their wing.  The beating from the two had knocked me out, when I came to Bad Batch was gone, Omega, my little helper, was gone, and Crosshair had tried to kill his own brothers.  

What’s worse is that Crosshair looked for every opportunity to wound me with his words, he wasn’t my Crosshair, he wasn’t the man I had grown to know and love as a brother.

‘Must be miserable to know you fell in love with a traitor.’

‘How does it feel knowing they left you?’

‘Only the Empire can provide what you need’

‘Join them and die’

“He seems to be having a particularly disturbing dream, he keeps thrashing” that voice, oh I hated that voice, it was responsible for the so called War Mantle project, Vice Admiral Rampart.  How I wish he could be the one on this bed before me, so I could make him suffer, the way he’s making Crosshair suffer.

“Indeed” oh there’s that other voice, Admiral Tarkin.  I loathed both men, and would be happy to see both die a very slow painful death.

“I do not believe we should continue for much longer, the procedure could cause irreparable damage”, I suggested.  I’m sorry Crosshair, I hope you can hear me.  I’m so sorry.  

“Very well” Admiral Tarkin’s voice filled the room, I could almost feel his breath on my skin.  It was revolting.  

“End the procedure, medic Kambe”

“Yes, Prime Minister”

I turned off the machine and watched as Crosshair's tortured face relaxed.  I moved beside him, and disconnected him from the machine, he was still unconscious, at this moment and I could pretend he was still my family, he was still the same Crosshair.  The one who taught me to shoot a target five klicks out.  The one who would tease Hunter and me, when we would go out on a date.  The one who said he always wanted a sister, and was happy I was his.  I discreetly held his hand, rubbing circles with my thumb on the back of his hand.  I’m sorry Crosshair.  I’m so sorry Cross.  

- - - - - - - -

“That medic seems very attached to CT-9904” Admiral Tarkin noticed

“Yes, she was the medic for Clone Force 99.  She got to know them very well and went on several missions with them.”

“Interesting.  She may prove useful.”

“How do you mean Admiral?” Asked Vice Admiral Rampart

“She may know something the clone doesn’t, or she could be used as bait, to bring in the others”

“Admiral, I must protest” Nala Se interjected, “she, unlike the clones, is not Empire property, she is hired by the Kaminoan facility, and works directly for us.”

“And yet, she gets paid via the Empire, does she not?  Or do you pay her directly, Prime Minister?”

“Uh … I would have to check our records, Admiral Tarkin”

“Don’t bother, I have checked already.  She gets paid by the Empire.  She used to receive funds from the Republic, and has subsequently received funds from the Empire, therefore she is a servant and employed by the Empire.  As such, we have the right to do as we wish with our workers.”

“Admiral, I would be more than happy to take over … keeping an eye on the medic” offered Vice Admiral Rampart.

“That is not necessary, it seems we have the best thing to keep an eye on her already” he motioned towards the unconscious clone.  

- - - - - - - - -

Although, I couldn’t hear what was being said behind the glass, I could sense eyes on me.  I grabbed a data pad and pretended to check Crosshair's vitals. If they were going to stay there watching me, then they wouldn’t get anything except a medic doing her job.   There had to be a way to get the chip out of his head, someway to go under the radar.  If Cross was back to normal then he and I would be able to get off of Kamino and find the boys.

I heard the door slide open behind me, “Medic Kambe”, I turned to face Nala Se, she was the only Kaminoan that I could somewhat tolerate, although in the end she was the biggest problem of all, as the Chief Medical Scientist, if it wasn’t for her, so many soldiers wouldn’t have been killed and treated less than they deserved.

“Yes, Nala Se?”

“You can move clone CT-9904 to the recovery room”

“Yes, Nala Se”

She stepped closer to me, it was odd and threw me off.  She disliked me more than anyone else, simply for making the clones feel like people and not property, it was one of the reasons I was assigned to an actual team, rather than the Kaminoan facility in general.  “You need to be careful,” she said in a lowered voice.

I kept busy preparing Cross for transport, “what do you mean?” I asked in a similar whisper, “they’re watching you, they want to use you to bring back Clone Force 99 and Omega.  We can’t have her land in the hands of the Empire.”

“I understand”

“Please be quick about transporting the clone, Admiral Tarkin wishes to see what effect the new enhancement has on CT-9904” she said in a louder voice.

“He has a name”

“He is a clone.  Clone CT-9904.”

“His name is Crosshair!”

“Medic Kambe! One more outburst and I’ll have you restricted to your quarters and brought up on charges of treason. Do you understand?”

“Yes”

“Good” without further word she stepped out of the room, maker I hated her.  I really did.

I looked at Cross one more time, he had a slight scarring from where the machine had performed it’s procedure. My only hope would be to perform surgery at night, or maybe if I was able to go on a mission with Cross again, distract him, get him isolated, and perform the surgery.   We both needed to get out of here, and soon.

- - - - - - -

“I don’t know if the plan will work” Fives offered

“Oh I’m sorry, do you have something better, vod?”

“Listen Phoenix Ghost, we are not judging you, it just seems risky” offered Hunter

“Well, what do you want to do?”  I asked, Rex had just left after we were able to get the chips out of the remaining Bad Batch, the idea was to take the med pod with us, or at the very least take it and hide it on a planet that we could bring Crosshair to.

“Why can’t we just use the method you did before, with the other clones?”

“That would require us going to a safe clone planet, the nearest one has over 500 of your brothers, inhabiting it.  I would gladly take you there, if the Empire thought you were dead.  However, as of right now, the risk is too great that someone would follow you, or someone spot your ship and decide to report you to the Empire simply for credits.  I’m sorry but I’m not putting your brothers at risk.  Either we find a way to bring Crosshair here, or find a way to bring the med pod to Crosshair.”

“Cyar’ika, it’s okay.  We trust you”

“Really, cause if you trusted me, you wouldn’t be questioning the plan right now”

“It’s just dangerous” Tech tried to reassure me.

I couldn’t help the glare that had appeared on my face, “seriously Tech? That’s your pathetic platitude, that it’s just dangerous.  Everything we’ve ever done, from the moment we either joined or were sold to the GAR has been a life filled with danger.  I personally have a scar on almost every quadrant of my body from one injury or another.”

They all looked to Echo, who simply nodded.  Oh that was it, “WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HIM? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULD LIE ABOUT THAT?!!!”

“No, of course not” Hunter tried to calm me down, but the anger within was growing from their… I guess lack of trust.  

“Cyar’ika”

“Don’t Echo! Don’t Cyar’ika me!”

Echo let out a frustrated breath, being back with Echo was amazing, it’s like we hadn’t missed a beat, all those years being apart had evaporated within a matter of minutes.  

“Fine, ner riduur”

Ugh! Why did he have to tug that cord? All the anger I had a second ago washed away at remembering that we had indeed gotten married, I  dropped my shoulders and my head to my chest.  As soon as we were off Barab, we had found a place to lay low for a few weeks.  Echo didn’t want to waste anymore time and proposed, I didn’t want to waste any time either and said yes.  We both had wasted too many years apart, to waste another second not being with each other, was downright idiotic.

Fives had been his best man, Omega was my flower girl, Hunter walked me down the aisle, Tech officiated and Wrecker stood in as my man of honour.  Rex had come to wish us well, after the ceremony, he pulled me aside and gave me a big bear hug, “I’m happy for you ad’ika.  I wish you nothing but happiness.”

The words were there, but the warmth in the eyes weren’t, “I’m sorry Rex.  I’m sorry I couldn’t…”

He didn’t let me finish, “nothin’ to be sorry about, little one.  You followed your heart to the man you love.  It’s the heart I fell in love with, so how can I be upset about that” his warmth finally reached his eyes, we hugged one more time, “thank you, Rex.  I love you, vod”

“Love you too, vod’ika”

“Alright, let’s come up with another plan than” I offered calmer, I looked over at Echo, and smirked.

“How do you do that?” Whispered Wrecker

“It’s my gift” Echo chuckled, I simply shook my head, “what if we make a medical droid?” Asked Omega

“It is possible” Tech advised

“We are at the scrap yard so we could find the parts we need, it won’t be pretty, but it’ll get the job done” I added, Tech and I sat down to work out a plan and design for the medical droid.

“While we are doing this, maybe the five of you could try to find an actual droid, maybe if there is an actual medical droid, we won’t have to make one” suggested Tech.

“Fine, we know when we’re not wanted,” Fives teased.

“Hey Omega”, I called, she turned towards me, “good suggestion” I winked at her.  She ran over and hugged me, “thanks mo…I mean, thank you Phoenix Ghost”, I returned the hug and looked at Hunter, he had a smirk on his face, “hun, I think your dad’s waiting for you”.  Hunter shot me a look, I couldn’t help but smile back, at the end of the day we were all co-parenting, so what was one or two more parents, uncles, or aunts.  Whatever way she looked at us, we were family.

- - - - - - - - -

“How does it feel, vod?” Fives asked Echo

“How does what, feel?”

“Being married to the love of your life?” He elbowed Echo

Echo couldn’t help the blush that appeared on his face, “like I’m living a dream that I never want to wake up from”.

“Awww, that’s so sweet” shouted Wrecker

“Alright you guys focus, Omega and I will go done here" Hunter motioned to the corridor to his left, "Wrecker, go with Fives and Echo” as Hunter motioned to the corridor on his right.

“Copy that” Fives answered.

Hunter and Omega headed down what looked like a medical hallway, there were all kinds of beds, against the wall, “Hunter?”

“Yes, Omega”

“Are you married?”

“What?”

“Like Phoenix and Echo?”

Hunter didn’t answer for a minute, Omega could see something was bothering him, “I”m sorry, should I not have asked?”

“It’s okay, kid.  No, I’m not married.”

“But there was someone?”

“Yes”

“Medic Kambe?”

Hunter stopped and looked at Omega, “how do you know that?”

“I trained under her as a medical assistant, she always used to mention Clone Force 99”

“That’s how you learned all about us”

Omega nodded, “she treated me like I was …”

“Like you were a person”

Omega nodded, “that’s how she treated us too.”  Hunter continued examining the rooms, and realized more than likely his love had seen what was happening to Omega and how she was treated.  He could see his tiny love stepping up to protect Omega.  Knowing her, she probably even had to fight to be Omega’s trainer.

“Do you think we’ll see her again?”

“I don’t know, kid.  I hope so, I really do.”

“Why didn’t she come with us?”

Hunter let out a sigh, “I don’t know, but something must have happened, otherwise she would have been waiting for us in the hangar.”

“I hope if we do find her, you two get married”

“Really?”

“Yes, she makes you happy.  You clearly make her happy.  She always had a smile on her face when she spoke of you, she kept her biggest smile when she mentioned you specifically.”

Hunter smiled at that, hopefully soon enough, he’ll have his brother back, and his love in his arms.  

- - - - - - -

“Any luck?”

“There’s no such thing as luck” chuckled Fives

“What are you? Obi-wan?” I asked

“Hey how do you think I got so good with the ladies?  I learned from the best” he laughed.

“Fives, you were good with the ladies, because they took pity on you.  Not because you had any of the charm, Obi-wan had.”

“How do you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo.

“Hmm… what, my love?”

“We will discuss this later”

“Whatever you say, ner cyare”

“Oh don’t try and placate me with sweet sayings”

“As fun as it is to be in the middle of what’s probably your first argument” Tech interrupted, “did you find a medical droid?”

“I did!” Shouted Wrecker

“Good.  By the way", Tech directed towards Echo and I, "I would like to see how an argument between married couples proceeds, it would be interesting to learn and see first hand” inquired Tech.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” I said, “let’s get this droid adjusted. Faster we get this thing on the ship, the faster we get out of here, and the faster we can get to Crosshair.”

“I think I have an idea about how to get Crosshair out in the open,” Hunter offered.

“How?” Asked Wrecker

“I’ll tell you guys when we’re back on the ship”

- - - - - - - - - - -

“That’s a bold plan” Fives commented

“But it has the potential for working” I appeased

“How do we know we can trust her?” Tech questioned, “how do we know she didn’t wilfully not show up? Had a change of heart?”

“Come on Tech, you know her.  She loves us.” Hunter looked to the ground before continuing, “she loves me, she would never … She was detained.  I know it.  Something prevented her from meeting us in that hangar.”

“Okay, so you want to send a message that will undoubtedly put her in danger, either on the mission, or before the mission, and definitely after the mission.  Basically, you are okay painting a giant target on her back, Hunter?  Cause that’s what you’re doing by sending that message.”

“I know Phoenix, but it’s the only thing I can think of to do.”

“Then I’ll help to try and limit the damage.  First things first, we are going to need to split up, find a planet to draw their attention to, hopefully one that’s uninhabitable.”

“With lots of ground coverage” offered Wrecker

“No high ground” suggested Tech

“With lots of animals” said Fives, we all turned to look at him, “what? If he can get distracted that gives us an advantage, I’m not crazy”, we all nodded along.  “He does have a point” chimed in Echo.

“What about Felucia?” Hunter suggested

“It’s not inhabitable.  I actually think I have a place.” I offered

“Where?” They all asked at once.

“I can’t say.”

“Well if you can’t say, how can we use it then?” Fives asked

“Because I have to ask permission to go there, it could put someone in danger, and that could be worse then …”

“Then having the Empire after us right now?” Wrecker inquired.

“Yes, actually.  They’re very dear and special to me, I need to …sorry guys, I’m gonna have to take over the bunk for now.”

“Oh” said Echo

“Oh” I nodded.

“Oh what?” Hunter asked

“Ohhh!” Clued in Fives adding, “I thought he was dead.

“About as dead as you and I are”

“What are we talking about?” Wrecker asked Tech

“I don’t know” Tech answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Sorry guys, I can’t say more, or talk more about it.  Like I said, I need the bunk, no one come in until I emerge.  It could be several hours, I suggest we stay in hyperspace as much as possible.”

“What’s going on?” Omega asked as she stepped out of her room.

“Sorry guys, but we can’t talk about it” Fives answered, “just trust us, when we say she needs to do this, and you really can’t disturb her, she needs the quiet.”

- - - - - - - - -

It had been a while since I sat here meditating, trying to connect with my older teacher.  I had been a force-sensitive child, and was about to take the Jedi trials, to be ordained as a Jedi Knight, but the anger within me had proved to be too volatile, with the war in effect.  It was important to not let those who could be in situations where the constant fighting, the constant bloodshed and the insurmountable injustice would be present all the time.  It could lead one to use the force in an unnatural way, causing one to take actions into your own hands.

I closed my eyes, and focused on the force, being one with the force was always easy for me, which was why the Council was concerned when they felt my anger.

“Little one, hmmm? Yes, hmmm”

“Hello Master Yoda”

“Why reach out through the force did you, hmm? Alright are you, hmmm?”

“I seek advice, Master, the advice is not for me, I’m alright, but it is to save two innocents.”

“To save a clone called Crosshair you wish, and medic called Kambe.  Innocent, Kambe is.  However, shed innocent blood, Crosshair has.”

“It’s not his fault, Master, it’s his chip.  If we remove the chip, he’ll be back to his old self.”

“Possible, removing stone from a puddle is, damage the stone caused when thrown in is permanent.  Back, what makes you think the Crosshair you once knew would come, hmm? Hmmmm.”

“Because it happened to one of the clones I am travelling with.  His chip activated, and he tried to kill Omega, the little clone girl, once his chip was removed he went back to normal, although he remembered the incident.”

“Wrecker activated for, how long was, hmm?”

“Not long, maybe about 20 to 30 minutes.”

“Crosshair been activated, how long has, hmm?”

“Since the start of the Empire”

“Over time weeds grow over stone, in the puddle, that is.  When you pull out stone, pull out weeds too.  The damage caused, irreversible, could be.  Prepared to face that consequence are you, hmm? Hmmm?”

“At least he would be free.”

“Of clone life free from, hmm? No.  Free from the Empire, hmm? No.  His other self free from, hmm? Possibly.  Plague his mind constantly, the nightmares of what he has done will.  Carry, can you soothe the pain his soul will, hmm?  If this chip you free him from, have to help carry his burden, you will.  Ready for that are you, hmm?”

“Yes”

“Then I offer, what advice can hmm? Yes, hmmm”

“We need a planet that is shrouded in darkness, with no major high ground, lots of foliage and animals”

“You use Dagobah to draw him out want to, hmm?”

“With your permission, Master, yes.  But if you feel it is too big of a threat, maybe you can recommend another planet, one that can wreak havoc on a sniper.”

“My permission, you have.  I will give you coordinates that will put any in danger not, and your purposes that will serve.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Your anger and your fear I no longer sense.  Changed, what has, young one, hmm?”

“Ever since my ‘death’, I no longer lived for myself but for others.  With the help of others and my skills we were able to save 2500 soldiers.  Brave men, each one.”

“That is all not. Herh herh herh”.

“No, Master.  Ha, never could hide anything from you.  I married the love of my life, Echo”

“Happy for you little one I am.  Continue learning from the force.  Serve you in the future, it will.  To the dark side within you I no longer sense the temptation.  However, to say goodbye to the man you love, be prepared, when the time comes, or to the dark side again find yourself on the path.

“Yes, Master.  Thank you.”

“With you may the force be.  Hmmmm”

“And with you, Master.”

- - - - - - - - -

“How long does this usually take?” Hunter asked Echo

“Once it took her - - - what was it? Fives, 12 hours?”

“I thought it was longer, closer to 15 or 16”

“It depends”

“On what?” Asked Tech

“On how easily I can connect to the force”, I answered.  They all turned to see me emerge from the bunk room, “how long was I in there for?”

“About 8 hours,” Echo answered.

“Do we have a plan?”

“We do, Hunter” I smiled, not only did we have a plan, but I had the privilege to continue learning about the Force, who knows what will happen in the future, but as of right now I was very hopeful.

“So where are we going?” Asked Omega

“Dagobah, we’re going to Dagobah, but first I need to eat, secondly there are a few things we need to discuss and thirdly, only three or four of us should go, the others should keep Omega safe.”

“I feel like there’s going to be a whole Jedi sort feel to this story” Fives laughed

“Well not completely, but you’re not wrong either” I laughed along with him.

“Does that mean, you’re going to tell me how you know about Obi-wan’s charms?” Asked Echo

“You’re never going to leave that alone, are you?” Hunter and Tech got up and headed for the cockpit, Omega headed for her room, Fives and Wrecker headed for the bunk room, leaving Echo and I alone.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“Why do I need to tell you about something that is so trifling, and doesn’t matter in our current predicament?”

“Because I need to know”

“You don’t need to know, what you want to know is if I personally experienced his charms, isn’t that true?”

“I … how … that’s …” Echo rubbed the back of his neck after his failure to start his sentence, “that’s not what I want to know.”

“Then why do you keep asking that question”

“I just didn’t think that Jedis, you know”

I just looked at him, “Echo, I married you.  I was learning to become a Jedi, remember?”

“Yeah, but I just didn’t think you were with anyone before me, I thought we had that in common”, that’s what he wanted to know! Man, why was he beating around the bush?

“Echo, my love” I kneeled before, cradling his face with one hand, holding his right hand with my left, “I love you.  Obi-wan is just a horrible flirt.  I was never interested in him.  I wasn’t interested in anyone other than you.  You have been and always will be the love of my life.  No one can compare to you.  They can’t hold a candle to your bravery, your courage, your kindness, your sweetness, the way you care for me, the way you look after your brothers, the way you look after Omega.  You are the best man I have ever known.  No one will ever change my opinion about that.  I love you and only you, and I have never been with anyone other than you.”

Echo looked into my eyes, leaned forward and kissed me, with all the passion he could muster.  “I really wish we had our own room, and our own ship, right now.”

I laughed out loud, “well let’s get to a safe haven where we can pick up another ship, and you and I take an hour for ourselves.”

“I think maybe four hours is needed”

“Ha, if only we had that kind of time my love, an hour and a half?”

“Two”

“Done, but then we have to get this plan under way as soon as we land.”

“I know”, I pressed my forehead against his, soaking in his scent; Master Yoda was right, I would have to prepare myself for the eventuality of losing him for real, one day.  When I had thought I had lost him the first time, it nearly destroyed me, and it was because I wasn’t able to have a future with him.  Wasn’t able to live freely with him.  Now, I could.  If I were to lose him tomorrow, I can be comforted in knowing that I had married, and had been able to love him without reservation.  I would have no regrets with how I loved him.

“I love you, Echo”

“I love you, Phoenix”

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