#also I don’t remember if their place is made out of stained glass or if it was just plain glass

[franken-loser]

MORE BOTANICAL DAUGHTER ART YIPPEEEEE!!!!!!

[reysdriver]

Sunday Roast | R.L.

Remus fixes a plate for you at dinner and it makes your heart melt — remus x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none :)

words: 0.5k

No one could ever go wrong with a nice Sunday roast as long as it was made with care, especially not the house elves working in the Hogwarts kitchen. 

When you walked in with your friends and saw all the food, it looked even better than usual. Now that you were sat down with your best friend Lily on one side and your boyfriend Remus on the other, you were excited to see if the food’s taste lived up to the appearance. 

 Just as you were about to grab some food for yourself, Remus took your plate and placed a juicy piece of chicken upon it. 

You looked over at Lily, who also noticed what just happened, and you both tried to stifle laughs before turning back over to Remus. 

“Um, handsome, I think you stole my plate there.” You informed him, even though you really didn’t care since you could just take his empty plate too. 

“I know.” He responded. “How many sausages do you want?”

You weren’t expecting that reply at all. That doesn’t mean it was unwelcome, but you weren’t really sure how to answer him now. 

“You don’t have to get my food for me, Rem.” You really didn’t want to come off as ungrateful, so you placed a hand on his side and tried your best to say it nicely. 

“I know I don’t, but I want to. You’ve got on a nice top and I know you’d be sad if you leaned across the table and stained it. So, how many sausages?”

If it wasn’t a medical impossibility, you were sure that your heart would have doubled in size at that moment. And if Remus wasn’t already your boyfriend, you would have confessed you loved him right there in front of everyone. 

Remus was the sweetest person you’ve ever met, and this was perfect proof of that. You wished you could say he was just extra thoughtful tonight, but he was always so perfect that it would be hard to pick out one peak moment. 

“Um, two please.” 

It was hard to hide how flustered you felt, but you hoped no one noticed.

“And gravy? On the side, of course.”

“Of course, thank you.”

Finally remembering that you two weren’t the only ones in the whole Great Hall, you turned back to Lily to see if she was watching what was happening. 

It turns out that Lily was observing the scene with an ear-to-ear grin strung across her face. That’s when you knew you weren’t imagining it, and that Remus really was the kindest person you knew. 

“What about veggies, dove?”

“Yes, please.”

You watched as he scooped out roasted veggies from the bowl, carefully trying to avoid the ones you didn’t like so much. 

After your plate was full, he placed it exactly where he picked it up from, and kissed the top of your head as he also filled your glass with water. 

“Thank you, Remmy. Love you.”

He told you that he loved you back as he started to assemble his own plate. 

As you picked up your fork and went to have your first bite of dinner, Lily leaned over to you and whispered the words ‘marry him’ into your ear. 

You chuckled, picking up a piece of cauliflower. “I will, don’t you worry.” You promised her.

[spncvr]

HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?

Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭

rambles | s. reid

summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO

masterlist

YOU CAN FEEL it.

In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 

You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 

“You okay?” 

You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.

“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 

You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”

The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”

“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—

“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”

Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.

You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”

“I don’t know,” he says simply.

Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.

“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”

Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 

“I love listening to you talk.”

Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.

as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ 1000 Years Too Late

❥ heian!era sukuna x fem!reader

warnings: TRIGGERING & HEAVY spoils for the recent jjk chapter, if you don’t wanna be spoiled nor triggered, please don’t read.!

❥ trigger warnings & tags: mentions of death, suicidal thoughts & attempt, struggles with grief, reincarnation of sukuna’s deceased lover, unwanted pregnancy, depression, (sukuna inhabited a different body when he was with you) etc...

note: punishment for all my hunnibuns, since yall didn’t submit for the summer event. also i added a lil twist on the jjk plotline to fit this

it was over. they won, but you lost. lost the one thing that mattered to you.

you knew this was going to happen, but nobody can prepare you for death. how could they? especially for this one. they would judge you and shun you away from the academy, if they knew how you felt.

you watched as they rejoiced, reuniting and celebrating the end of sukuna, while you stood there sulking—trying so hard not to wallow in your sorrows.

he was the love of your life and now he is gone.

you stood at the spot where he died, trying so hard to feel his spirit or his energy, but there was nothing. he was truly gone. the two of you had fallen in love by accident, you couldn’t remember how it began, but you could remember how much the two of you loved each other. despite you both being on opposite sides, you couldn’t hate each other.

it was unfortunate how the world turned out for the two of you.

you entered your apartment and you immediately tensed up—immediately being hit with the cologne he used to wear. should you even be here? everything reminded you of him, the last plate in the sink that he used, the smell of the aftershave he used this morning, his crimson red slippers by the bed and his side of the bed that had grew cold.

you were alone, left alone once again. you lied down on his side of the bed, cuddling under the plush blanket, staring up at the ceiling—darkness clouding the room. ‘why’d you have to leave me? how am I supposed to move on?’ a tear trickled out of your eyes and then the flood gates opened.

you spent the whole night crying your eyes out, heart yearning for him once again.

the following days had gotten worse for you, you felt like you were decaying—mentally. you hadn’t left your place, ignoring the calls from your coworkers and your parents, you hadn’t showered, you had no motivation to nor have you eaten anything. his death took everything out of you, all you could do was drink. drink the pain away.

you sat in your bed tossing back the bottle of jack daniels that was sitting inside one of the kitchen’s cabinets. you had been drinking so much that the burn that accompanied the liquor had faded and it started to taste like juice. the vibrating sounds of your phone made you tense up, irritating you by the second while you ignored it; making you pick up—ready to drunkenly curse out the person on the other side.

that is until you heard their voice, the voice of your boyfriend's killer, the only one who knew of your relationship with the king of curses. yuuji itadori.

“hello? y/n–sensei?” you cringed, swallowing back your anger as you answered him back.

“hello yuuji, what’s up?” there was a pause on the other end and you took the opportunity to take another swig of the dark beverage.

“we haven’t seen you in a while….i just wanted to see how you were doing….” you had to stop yourself from chuckling, swallowing more and more of the bronze drink.

“im fine. is that all?” your words came out harsher than you intended, but that would’ve been a problem if you were in the right state of mind. “i'm not buying that. im coming to check on you, sensei. I’ll be there soon.” he said, hanging up on you—making you curse in frustration. you threw the bottle at the nearby wall, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and staining it with its contents.

you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him, he was a kid after all—being pulled into this mess, having to deal with everything as well. but, you didn’t know what else to do? who else to blame?

you got up from your bed, sulking on the way to the bathroom; stripping off your clothes and stepping to into the shower—turning on the water to boiling hot; the water burning away your thoughts. this was the only time you hadn’t thought about sukuna, the shower freed your mind. all you could think about was the pleasing feeling of the scalding water piercing your thoughts.

after a good ten minutes in the shower, you got out and put on something comfortable, waiting for the teen to come to your place. and a few more minutes, he was there, staring at you—like he could see right through you. “you miss him, don’t you?” the pink haired boy spoke, not wasting anytime. you looked at him and chuckled, before going into your favorite cabinet; the liquor cabinet. opening the strong bottle of vodka, you quick downed some; ignoring yuuji.

“before i killed him—,” he paused, seeing the look on your face after he said that before continued, ignoring your eyes. “he told me to go to this place, must’ve been his castle years ago, and told me to find this crate with your name on it.” he went out into the hallway and grabbed the crate, bringing it in to show you. it was filled with a bunch of letters, all signed to you.

“i never read any of them, y/n–sensei, i figured it was something special for you. help you get closure.”

“closure?” you stifled a laugh, raising any eyebrow at the boy. you burped, picking up the bottle of alcohol and shoving some more of its liquid down your throat. he could see that you were drunk, but you were also hurting.

“how the hell would you know what i need? hm?”

“because it’s not good to carry everything on your shoulders. trust me i know.” he put his hand onto of yours, eyes holding sincerity, but you couldn’t see that; heart wouldnt let you. you pulled away from him and stood a few feet back—face contorted into a scowl. “you should go.” yuuji opened his mouth to protest, but he knew shouldn’t. instead, he turned on his heels and head for the door, before saying one last thing.

“sensei, if you ever need help, im one call away.”

you avoided those letters like the plague. walking past them each time you went to retrieve a new bottle of your liquid medicine. you didn’t have the strength to, you feared that it might push you over the edge.

sukuna was on your mind heavily as you sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television—with a bottle in the other hand. you decided on a channel, a romantic movie playing on the big screen. you laughed in disgust at the main character, so helplessly in love—stupidly in love. you cringed when the character experienced her first heart break, rolling your tired eyes at her dramatics, that is until she received a letter. a letter from her lover.

it was like you were watching a movie about yourself. like someone was controlling you life in a way. you looked at the letter’s sitting on the island before looking back at the tv, before you got up and went over to the crate. You swallowed thickly and rummaged through them, pulling out one that had caught your eye. you ran your hand over the black ink, his handwriting thick and neat, envelope smelling just like him.

carefully tearing it open, you stared at the contents, finding a seat at the island.

‘ a thousand years ago, i ruled the world. i was nefarious, everyone bowed down to me—they respected me. i was king and then there was you, my queen. ’ you paused, taking a minute to process what the hell he was talking about. you took another swig from your personal mini bar before looking at the letter once more.

‘ i know you’re confused, i can see your face scrunching up in my mind. cute. ’ you giggled, heart swelling at you imagining him, imagining you.

‘ you were born a thousand years ago. you were everything i was not. you completed me, even though you were just a human, you made me feel more than just a curse. you made me, me. ’ your lips were trembling and you had to bite them to stop yourself from crying. he always had a way with words.

‘ you were fearsome, a little cruel at times (my kind of lady), but you were respected. however, some people didn’t feel the same and they had it out for you. you were cursed, one that would ultimately end up taking your life. after a passionate night of love making between you and i, we shared a kiss and that was the last one we ever shared. you died in my arms that night ’

plip. plip. plip.

your tears stained the letter, heart breaking into a thousand pieces. you knew that he was crying as he wrote this letter, words smudged where he was writing—that was rare for him. he was heartbroken just like you were.

' I watched the light go out of your eyes. i had to bury you. i was filled with emotions, one that i know a bit too well. rage. i killed everything and everyone in sight, trying to find a way to get you back…..it took me forever to find one. until, i met you again. the day that I saw you, i knew i had to keep you safe. you were fighting against me and i had to act like i didn’t know you, it was all part of my plan. i fell for you ten times harder and you slowly did as well. however, i found out that the curse reincarnated with you and how to break it. ’

you sipped the last of the burning booze, wiping your eyes that continuously watered with sadness. you pinched the letter, no longer wanting to read the rest of the letter, but you knew you had to. you had to know why, why the love of your life had to die.

‘ i found out the way to break it about a week ago and by the time you’re reading this, im probably already gone. the only way to break this curse was for me to die and i didn’t, you would die and be reincarnated over and over again if you continued to fall in love me. i couldn’t do it, I couldn’t see you die another thousand years later. i couldn’t lose you. so im doing what i gotta do. im sorry. ’

oh. the paper got wet.

the black ink smudged with your rainfall of tears. you couldn’t stop, your heart aching, breaking into a thousand pieces. why did the universe hate you? what did you ever do to deserve this? why did you have to live?

the bottle of bacardi fell to the floor, as you stumbled getting up—vision blurred with your sadness. you stepped on the clear shards, pricking your feet as you walked, not caring about the stinging sensation coursing through them. you staggered towards the bathroom, gripping the sink’s cool porcelain, & opening the medicine cabinet that lied behind the mirror. you picked up a random pill bottle, whipping the cap off and pouring a small handful into your mouth.

swallowing it with the help of the water from the sink’s faucet, you slid down to the tiled floor—sitting there until the drugs took full affect.

your eyes were getting weaker and weaker by the second, heart beating crazily in your chest and all you could do was lay back and smile. you were finally at peace, ready to be reunited with your love. until you felt a buzzing in your pants pocket. you weakly reached in and pulled out your phone, seeing the missed notification from itadori. oh. you smiled and opened the device, going to your text messages and pushing the little microphone icon.

“goodbye, yuuji.”

the effects of the pills consumed your body, putting you in a comatose state—a white light taking over your mind.

the sounds of medical machinery caused you to stir, eyes lids heavy as you tried to open them. the brightness of the lights above you, made you cringe, until you relaxed and was able to open them completely—taking around your surroundings. you were in fact, still alive.

you noticed there was tube inside of you mouth and you started to panic, that is until who hand came over and unplugged it for you, allowing you to gasp for air. “you’re lucky to be alive, y/n. thank yuuji for that.” shoko’s raspy voice rang in your ears and you met her eyes, tears welling in them.

“and did you know that you’re pregnant?” shoko asked and your eyes widened, there was no fucking way. after all that drinking you did, how can something like that survive in you?

almost like she could hear your thoughts, the brown haired woman spoke once more, “there seems to be some cursed energy in there. i don’t want to or need to know how, but i do need to know what do you plan on doing with it?” your mind was running a million miles per minute, a kid? a fucking fetus? you couldn’t, you couldn’t raise it—not now, not ever. not until you got help.

just as you were about to respond, there was a knock on your door and in came the pink haired teen. he smiled and looked at shoko, whom nodded her head and exited the room—leaving you two to have a mini staring contest. until, he decided to speak first, “I’ve got your text last night…I nearly raced over there—scooping you up and bringing you over here, auntie.” the name he called you made you raise an eyebrow.

“i went back to get a few things for you and I found the letter. it’s not your fault, you couldn’t control the past more can you control the future. it’s not his fault either. my uncle did what anyone would do in his situation, he might’ve dragged it a couple of times, but he lost the love of his life.” yuuji said with a little eye roll, causing you to chuckle.

“i know about your situation too…whatever you decide, im here every step of the way. you don’t need to do this on your own. he broke the curse so you could live, so live. “

you took those words to heart as you laid in the hospital bed, recovering. there was no doubt that you missed him and needed ryomen—but you know that dying now would make his death a waste. he died so you wouldn’t have to suffer, he was man; a cursed man yes—but he was the bravest man ever and you would forever love him.

“i got the last bag yuuji! tell fushiguro to help you with that one!” you shouted to the pink haired boy, grabbing the last bag from your empty apartment. you had recovered fully in shoko’s care a few weeks ago, you also signed up for therapy—to help you understand your feelings and better your mental health. you decided on getting rid of the unborn fetus, you were in no shape to carry such a thing. you weren’t strong enough and you knew sukuna would understand.

you sighed, looking around once more, taking in the memories before you moved to your new place. however, just as you were about to go, a white envelope caught your eye. you thought you shredded them all, but it seems that one was forgotten. setting down the bag of clothes, you leaned against the island and quickly opened it—heart thumping in anticipation.

‘ my love for you will never die. don’t fret my queen, ive might’ve been a thousand years too late, but i will forever love you a thousand years more. until we meet again. — ryomen . ’

you smiled, tears pouring out of your eyes while you kissed the letter, before bringing it over to the stove and lighting it on fire; burning it to a nice crisp.

that was the end of your story, but the beginning of a new one. take care, sukuna. and see you in hell.

[the1975attheirverybest]

Lovers Quarrel

A/N: day 5 of Valentine’s Week. warnings: none. ***

“do you really think I’ve forgotten? About YOU?” Matty yelled as he followed her around the house, but Jo wasn’t wasting any more of her time. She gathered her belongings from the kitchen counter top, the living room, grabbing her purse from the hanger by the door. “No, Jo-please. Please don’t do this.” Matty shook his head, the wine in the half-empty bottle sloshed around in it. “Don’t leave. If- if you walk out of here right now….you’ll be giving up on us. We’ll be over!”

“don’t you see, Matty? We’ve been over for a very long time…” she twisted the doorknob in her hand. in a last ditch effort to stop her, matty fell to his knees, the wine bottle smashing against the cold tile, wine splattered everywhere. He crawled to her, attempting to grab a hold of her leg, but she slip right through his fingers. Walking out on him.

“Jo! No! Please! Come back! I’ll be better this time- I’ll do anything!I promise! Jo! Jo! No!!!”

his pleas echoed through the empty house without anyone to answer. Matty suddenly felt a heavy dampness on his dress shirt, he looked down, clutching the fabric. It was drenched in red. His frown deepened when the shirt released a red liquid into his fists with a squishy sound. “What the fu-“

Matty ‘s body jolted awake. He sat up as his sleep-laced eyes opened, looking around him in the dimly lit room, shrouded in shadows except for the small patch of light projected onto him by the muted tv. Oh thank fuck. It was only a nightmare.

“fuck!” Matty whispered under his breath when he noticed that he’d fallen asleep, on the couch, with a glass of red wine in his hand, and had let it tip and spill all over him in his sleep. “Fuckin hell.” His shirt was soaked. he peeled the drenched fabric off his body, tossing it to the floor. His chest still felt cold and wet where the patch of wine stained fabric had adhered to his skin. He looked around him, trying to recall the events of the evening. The place was completely quiet except for the sounds of rainfall against the window and the record player murmuring “I Want It That Way” on low volume somewhere in the distance. slowly but surely it all started coming back to him. he and Jo had had a fight. He couldn’t even remember what it was about. He only remembered that it was bad. He’d made her cry. He’d said some obscene and insensitive things. Refused to hear her side. Rolled his eyes at her when she’d tried to force him to listen. There was a lot of pacing back and forth. A lot of passionate gesticulating. He remembers pulling at his own hair so hard that he’d hurt himself. He remembers being exasperated and telling her that he couldn’t stand to be around her. It was one of those fights that started out as a specific issue but quickly unfolded into a massive argument about every disagreement that they’ve ever had in their entire relationship. Things neither one of them even realized the other was upset about. It’s like they’d been storing grievances, waiting for the right moment to unleash them. And, apparently, tonight had been the moment. *** It was well beyond midnight when Matty had dragged his heavy limbed up the stairs and walked into their bedroom. Jo had been in bed, asleep, on her side, back facing away from the door. The sight of her overwhelmed him with emotion. He felt tears flooding his eyes. He rushed over to her and climbed into bed his arms pulling her towards him. “I’m so sorry, Jo.” He whispered into her ear, his stubble scratching her face. “I love you so much.” she whined, attempting to wiggle away. “You smell like cigarettes.”

he laughed, surprised at hearing her voice. “Sorry, had a smoke.”

“and wine.”

“well, I also had a drink. You know. To go with the smoke.” He kissed her again, rubbing his stubble against her skin on purpose this time. “I thought you said you were gonna quit. For the baby.”

“go easy on me, darling, i thought I’d lost you.”

she rolled her eyes. Her hand reached behind her for his. “Don’t be dramatic, Matthew, I’ve only been in bed. Pretending to be asleep so I don’t have to deal with you.”

he chuckled into her ear, his breath tickling her. “No, no. I mean- sure yeah but also…I…had a nightmare. Thought it was real. Thought you’d left me.”

the tinge of pain in his voice had softened that last piece of her that had been guarded against him. And finally turned around to look straight into his eyes. “C’mon, Matty. You know that would never happen, yeah?”

tears threatened to spill from his eyes again, he blushed. “Wouldn’t it? I mean- I was kind of cruel and, I-“

“hey? So was I. Okay? And I’m sorry.” She kissed him. The gesture causing a singular stray tear to fall down his face. He laughed, choking back a sob.

“I honestly don’t even know what I was mad about. Probably just horny and mistranslated it into anger.”

Matty bit his lower lip. “Horny?”

“it’s the pregnancy hormones. Im confused all the time. I don’t even know how I feel I just know whatever it is….im feeling it intensely.”

“the baby isn’t even born yet and we’re already blaming our problems on it. Nice.” Matty giggled. she shoved him “fuck you, okay?” And tried to escape his arms. “Jo! Im joking, baby! I’m only joking!!” He pulled her back in. “Well, I’m still sorry, okay?”

“okay.”

they laid in bed, with her back pressed into his chest, his arms around her, caressing her emerging bump softly, in silence. Until, suddenly, Matty began to hum,

You are my fire

the one desire

believe when I say

I want it that way

Jo let out a sleepy groan. “I hate that song. It makes no sense.”

Matty laughed. “I know. Isn’t it the best?”

[molarbeardoc]

I love cooking. Sorry if this isn’t as high quality as the rest! I forgot to save it earlier and it deleted like 7 paragraphs and dialogue so I had to rewrite some of it AND I was struggling to think of how I wanted to continue it. Also it gets kinda funky at the end so uhm yeah if you’ve got any questions about that part feel free to ask ily guys remember to be silly

Split would open her eyes, finding herself in an empty white void. This was definitely a dream, or a nightmare, she hasn’t figured it out yet. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter..

She sat up, looking around before trekking through the blank space, curiosity fuelling each step she took. Something about this place was… ominous. Like she shouldn’t be here.

If that didn’t make it better, she felt as if she were being watched. As if something were documenting her every move while she made her way deeper into the void.

`What if someone is..?`

The thought made her shudder. Someone, or something, was hiding in this blank canvas. Hiding out of sight despite there being no crooks or crevices, nor shelves or walls, to hide in or behind. Whatever this threat was, she did not plan on sticking around for a friendly meet and greet, picking up the pace as her ears lowered.

As she continued on his invisible path, she noticed something in n the far distance. She couldn’t entirely make it out but it seemed… Well she couldn’t really describe it. But seeing as there was nowhere else to go, she made her way towards it.

As the trekked closer she began noticing how the floor was fading from its pristine whiteness to an inky black. If that wasn’t enough, she also noticed how every pawstep she took left a small ripple effect on its surface, as if she were walking on water.

That’s not possible is it? The only times she’s heard of that happening is in religion and that one lizard. Maybe it was oobleck? She knew enough about it, well the basics at least. It was a liquid when there was no force applied and solid when there was.

If so why didn’t it stain her paws? She’s seen it stain people’s hands went dealt with, so why weren’t hers becoming black or at least grey?

She was yanked from her thoughts as she heard the subtle sound of movement behind her, whipping around to meet whoever her friend, or enemy, was. Unfortunately, it was no friend and a deep scowl graced the Fruit-Taur’s face.

"You?! What are you doing here?! How are you even here?! Out of everything, it’d had to be you! I don’t get why DrRETRO doesn’t just use a sledge hammer against you already! No one likes you!"

She snapped at the smiling rock beneath her a quiet yet guttural growl rumbling in her throat as her ears folded back.

"Silence dog creature."

She was taken aback, quite literally, when it spoke, blinking as she stared at it incredulously. Its voice horrifically deep and statical.

"You can talk? You’ve been able to talk this whole time?!"

"Always have been. Now leave."

"Huh-"

"Leave. You’re not supposed to be here. I don’t want you here, your thoughts are too loud and disturbing my work. So shoo shoo, I’m busy."

MR stared up at her, its smiling face unable to show up its obvious glare of disdain and condescending contempt for her.

"You’re still here?"

"You act as if I want to be here."

"Then leave."

"Tell me how!"

"Don’t raise your voice at me, I have divine authority you’d only see on your glass screens."

Split let out a mocking snort.

"You? Divine authority? The most you can do is magic tricks."

The rock, now infuriated, glared at her shoulder, a small flame appearing on her clothing as it did as she let out a yelp and immediately pat it out.

"Apologize and I’ll consider not breaking your limbs. At least not all of them."

"I’m not apologizing to an oversized geode! Especially not one who set me on fire!"

MR was about to set her ablaze entirely, turning her into a blackened banana before a moment of malicious remembrance crossed its mind as it hummed in response. Physical torment lasted long, yes. But anyone could recover from it. Even the most vicious wounds of attacks can be healed, even if they left scars, they still healed.

Emotional and mental torment however... Those were difficult to conquer. Even the strongest of men can crumble at the feet of a weak mind. The detrimental effects that it can leave behind are sickening. The way it can drive people mad and take drastic measures to make it stop. It was too perfect of an idea for the rock to let go. It had used it many times in the past on specific victims, especially its current one.

Besides, it'd be killing two birds with one stone...

"Your friend."

"I have a lot of friends."

"The hairy one."

"I have a lot hairy friends."

"The detective."

"Bive?"

"You two are close, no?"

"Duh! She’s-"

"You care and love her don’t you?"

"Love is such a… strong word? I adore her! But of course I care about her!"

"Interesting. How is it you tell her of your life and she never responds with similar information?"

"She’s probably just had a bad childhood? Wait a minute how do you kno-"

"How do you sympathize with a freak such as her?"

Split’s expression hardened, but before she could jump on the defence, it continued.

"You know she’s a a failure right?

"A mistake."

"She’s not even supposed to exist."

The fruit-taur snarled at it, a spark of fury slowly growing into a bonfire.

"Now listen here you-!"

"What is your goal?"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Is it to be her rock?"

"Is it to be her white knight in glistening armour?"

"To fix her?"

"You’re wasting precious energy on her.. You can’t fix a vase that’s been shattered in to millions of pieces. You can’t fix a broken record. You can’t fix her."

"This isn’t about fixing her! Shut up! You’re just trying to trick me!"

"Au contraire. I’m just trying to enlighten you of your situation. After all we’ve both had someone we care for."

"Well, you still have that someone…"

Despite her fury, a small twinge of confusion nagged her.

Perfect…

"I had someone. I cared for their every need. When they were hungry, I was the first to feed them. When they were thirsty, I always brought them enough water to last them throughout the day. The others? They saw them as an experiment. An analysis. Something to simply studied. Me? I treated them as if they were my own child."

Split felt the anger in her begin dying down as she listened on. For once, she felt… bad for the rock.

“I taught them to walk, to speak. Countless nights I would lay awake for them when they were ill. Whenever it stormed, they were afraid of the thunder, so I would stay by their side to help to rest. To bring them comfort.."

As cruel as the stone was, it sounded like an excellent paternal figure. She never knew it had such loyalty and affection in it. Perhaps something changed it?

"I did everything for them. I would’ve given my life for them. And you know what they did?"

"What?"

"They stabbed me in the back. They left me when I needed them most. I returned to find them gone and my life’s work with them. I loved them and they abandoned me as if I were garbage. Do you know, how painful it is, to care for someone as if they were your successor, your own blood… just to have them turn their back on you..? It’s worse than any physical wound imaginable…"

The fruit-taur couldn’t help but sympathize with it. Clearly it was hurt, hurt beyond imagination. It had gave and gave and gave, only for its affection to never be reciprocated. Whoever did this to MR had turned it into what it was now, a bitter and broken mess. Who could do such an awful thing?!

As if it could read her thoughts, it spoke up.

"You know them too."

"I do..?"

"Yes. You give them the same amount of love and attention as I once did. You treat them with respect and kindness while others turn their back on them, as they rightfully should."

Split stared at it for a moment, surely it didn’t mean..? No! That’s impossible… Right?

"You’re not talking about..?"

"Your little detective friend? Unfortunately, I am…"

She felt her heart drop. No. That couldn’t be true! It had to be lying! Yeah. That’s right! It’s lying. She would never do such a thing. Sure she wasn’t always the most morally correct person, but to do that?! That’s too far. Not even Gnarpy was that cruel, and xe threatened everyone! Even Fleshcousin! But there was still sense of doubt that whispered in her head, its voice quiet yet loud enough to be heard.

`What if it’s not lying..?`

"Hard to believe isn’t it? I assume you have no intent on locating her now do you?"

"What..?"

"She’s here you know?"

"Right now?"

"Yes."

"… Can I talk to her?"

"I guess so. Continue going forward in the direction you were originally going. You’ll find her eventually."

Spilt looked behind her, tilting her head slightly.

"That’s all? She’s th-"

She turned back towards the stone, a quiet ‘oh’ escaping her mouth as she realized it was gone. How does a rock move that fast? Does it have legs or something? That’s a funny idea- Wait no no! She needed to get answers. No distractions.

She sighed as she continued forward, the questions that whirled in her head made her feel ill.

Is she actually the reason MR was who it was now? Did she actually break its heart? Why didn’t she tell her this earlier? Was she trying to hide her true self? Was she even who she thought she was?

The more Split thought, the more distraught she became. She was starting to believe that everything she knew about Bive, everything she cared for, everything she adored about her was a flat out lie. How stupid could she be? How naive was she?! She thought she finally found someone she could connect with, to spend time with, to love even.

Then the truth came and proved it all to a sick and twisted fantasy.

Eventually, she came across the paranoid detective. She seemed distressed, like usual but it seemed much more intense. Like she was expecting something. Like she was in immense danger. She seemed more jittery than ever.

As Split got closer, Bive soon took notice of her, seeming to calm down a little, a small grin even appearing on her face. However as she saw the hardened expression on the fruit-taur’s face, she tensed up once more, her grin slowly disappearing as she got closer.

"Split..?"

She paused a few feet in front of her, staring down at the detective before sighing. Bive tilted her head as she tried to read her face, why’d she look so upset? Did something happen

"Why?”

"Why what?"

"Why’d you do that to it?"

"Do what to who?"

"You know what I’m talking about!"

"Well, to be honest I really don’t."

Split bit back a harsh retort, forcing herself to remain calm.

"Why’d you just… abandon MR?"

Bive was completely taken aback. Firstly, how’d she even find out about her history with the stone. Secondly, who told her she abandoned her?! She never abandoned anyone! If anything she was abandoned! Well not really but that’s not the point!

"Aha… What?"

"Bive please tell me it’s a lie."

"You don’t believe it right? You don’t actually believe that do you?!"

"The more I think about it, the more believable it sounds!"

"It’s all a lie, I promise! Who even told you this? It’s obvious they’re trying to distract you from the real threat such as the clowns and snow so-"

"ENOUGH WITH YOUR CONSPIRACY THEORIES! STOP TRYING TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT!"

Bive was taken aback. Never had she heard Split so upset, and especially never at her. It hurt. It hurt a lot actually. Did she even know the actual story? Who tricked her like this?!

She tried to stammer out a response before Split just responded with a frustrated growl.

"Please just tell me the truth. Did you leave? Yes or no?!"

"It’s a much more complicated answer than that! That’s not fair!"

"So you do know it?!"

"Well! I didn’t say that!"

"Then what are you saying?!"

"That our connections are more complicated than that!"

"That sounds like you’re trying to tiptoe around the fact that you know MR."

"I- Well-! Just please!"

She watched as the fruit-taur sighed, turning her head to the side as she used her hand to rub the temples above her forehead.

"I may know it just a bit but-"

"But..?"

"I didn’t abandon it! I just left!"

"That does not make it sound any better…"

"Well I just-"

"We just aren’t on the best of terms because of previous events!.."

"I wonder why.."

It was like every answer that came out of her mouth wasn’t the right one. At this point Bive was beginning to panic. Apart from Split she had virtually no one else. Scratch that, she HAD no one else. Everyone else didn’t listen to her, they found her insane, they thought her truths were lies. She couldn’t lose Split, the mere thought of it scared her more than anything else.

"Look I dunno what they told you but it’s not true please! I promise!"

"It’s getting harder to believe you…"

Bive watched as Split took a step back, her panic growing into pure terror as she noticed the stone that had materialized beside her. Of course. Why hadn’t she realize it sooner? That dumb rock was the reason Split didn’t trust her, it was the reason she didn’t believe her. It lied to her and got her on its side. She hated MR, it was lying, cheating, skank that fed off of suffering.

But so far, it seemed as if it was winning this battle..

"Split, please! You can possibly believe it can you?! You-You don’t actually… Right?… RIGHT?!"

Split only stared at her, too upset to think of a response. The agonizing 'reality' had set in that the detective she once loved was a two-faced traitor. It hurt her too much to even think of it as she fought back tears.

The stone looked towards her, despite the permanent smile that graced its face, it seemed express some sort of empathy towards the fruit-taur. As if it knew how she felt, as if it had once been in her place.

It let out a quiet hum, signalling for Split to go of which she did without hesitation. Her paws heavy as she left the two alone…

Bive could only watch as she left, her own feet stuck in place, her mouth too dry to let out a pleading ‘stay’. Before she knew it, she was gone. Where? She had no idea, but she had disappeared past the horizon and could no longer be seen. She turned to the stone, watching as it gave her its sickening and mocking grin. How could something be so cruel? How could something be so vile?! How could something be so… cruel?

A wave of pure hatred and grief washed over her, the stone knew it too. It felt it coursing through her body, and it relished it. It fed off of such negativity, and right now? She was a gold mine…

"You… You stupid-! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

The rock didn’t answer, just stared… Just stared as tears streamed down her face, just stared as she trembled with mental agony, just stared as she glowered at it with pure unfiltered hatred.

"WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?! WHY DO YOU FOLLOW ME?!"

Her breathing was heavy and irregular as the stone answered her with a command.

"Drown… Let your suffering be the waves that kill you…"

The ground beneath her seemed to liquify as she fell straight through it, letting out a yelp as she splashed into the inky 'sea' beneath her. She had tried to swim back to the surface, despite her poor abilities, but it was futile as some sort of thin layer of invisible 'glass' blocked her escape. She held what little breath she had as she pushed at it.

She could see MR staring down at her, staring at her as she tried to break through. It’s mocking grin still gracing its face. It knew it had won but it wouldn’t indulge in its victory until it saw the realization in the detective’s eyes. Until it saw her realize she had lost.

She kicked and punched and clawed and scraped at the layer, fighting to escape as her lungs pleaded for air. Her chest felt as if it were on fire as she continued, her movements becoming weaker

Split would awaken from her sleep before groggily looking around. She was back in reality, back in the maze, back with her… Split looked down at the sleeping detective, a wave of guilty disgust washing over her as she realized she was leaning against her.

Bive felt herself getting tired, her limbs began aching as her actions became weaker and weaker

The fruit-taur nudged her off, not enough to wake her up to prevent an awkward and painful conversation.

The detective’s movements became slower before eventually stopping. Her body tired and aching as her chest continued to burn…

Split let out a sigh, getting up as she gathered her own belongings, despite not being much, and began leaving.

She gave the stone a glance, the sudden realization of defeat hitting her as she began to slowly sink. The 'water' was cold yet oddly comforting in a way, it quelled the fire in her chest. Bive couldn’t help but feel relaxed in its waves..

She avoided thumbtacks and coffee cups as she made her way out of Bive’s corner of the maze. Meeting Fleshy by pure coincidence due to accidentally bumping into it.

Her vision began to blur and her mind began to cloud. Bubbles escaping her mouth as she continued to sink down into the dark abyss.

Fleshy escorted her out of the maze, babbling random nonsense as it usually did while remaining upbeat and optimistic, not picking up her solemn attitude.

For once she felt at peace, no more running, no more fearing, just peace.. It was a nice feeling. The light around her had began to dim as she sank deeper and deeper.

She waved a polite goodbye to the fleshcousin as she made her way back to the elevator, pressing its button as she waited patiently.

She eventually hit the bottom, the light dim as she laid on the sand-like ground. The aching in her body had stopped. The fire in the chest had been quelled. All that was left was for her to close her weary eyes…

She heard the familiar and welcome ding of the elevator, her floppy ears lifting as she stepped into it. Mark and Wallter were there but paid no attention to her as they argued over wood and concrete. She placed a coin in the elevator’s slot and selected Splitsville. She needed some time to herself for now…

WOWOWOWOWOWOW HOPE I DIDNT MAKE YOU CRINGE BECAUSE I CERTAINLY DID WHILE WRITING THIS

Anyway I hope you enjoyed the Four Part Spive Angst series! I did enjoy writing it for the most part and I’m glad you all like it

ALSO SILLY AXOSUN USERS

Plus my #1 Fan (They get their own section because of how COOL and AWESOME and NICE (evil) AND KIND (mean) THEY ARE!!!!!!

I WILL STILL BE WRITING MAYBE FLUFF MAYBE ANGST MAYBE HURT AND COMFORT IDK YET (A different server is demanding Spive fluff from me) SO KEEP ON THE LOOKOUT FOR THAT RAHHHHHHHH

(I was listening to this while writing someone of this fanfic as well you should too)

[asimperingswannsong]

Arte’s Intruder

Part 2

Summary/Warnings/Notes: 😮‍💨 I don’t know; Tried to make a cottagecore moment for a walking red flag because said flag is Gwen shaped; lost the plot somewhere in the thicket; brain rotting fluff; mention of hunting for food; content still not designed for minors 18+ only; I was struggling with the thought of Jane wandering the wilderness forever; fixed it??? Do I hate it? Maybe I hate it.

——————————-

Jane was lifted gently from her slumber by the patter of rain on the tin roof of the cabin and the melodic humming and singing of the cabin's only other occupant. She stood in the adjoining kitchen at the sink doing the washing up. The softness of her voice was giving Jane a tingly sensation at the base of her skull and down the back of her neck.

She smelled the stew simmering on the stove and her stomach growled but she was too comfortable to care. She lay in a hand-hewn bed beneath handmade quilts and enjoyed the warm dance of the firelight on the pine board walls.

Turning her head, she took in the coziness of the cabin more fully. Flowers, herbs, and other potted plants dotted every shelf, every windowsill, and hung from the ceiling in pots. A profusion of geodes and crystals, some polished and some natural, complimented the lush greenery. Dozens of half melted candles adorned every surface and Jane wondered if they were homemade.

She noticed a few of the windowpanes had been replaced with stained glass featuring floral designs. The girl's daypack was sitting on the floor nearby in front of one of the dining chairs. Her sketchbook lay open on the seat of the chair with beautifully detailed pencil drawings of flowers, birds, and other wildlife she'd encountered in the forest.

Jane was amazed by the Waldenesque tranquility the girl had created around herself while she and the rest of the world had been busy engaging in a guerilla style warfare for the past several years. She'd been so hell bent on clawing out an existence for herself within the confines of the new order of things she'd never actually stopped to consider if any alternatives may exist.

Now she was laying here wrapped in warmth and comfort without any immediate need to fight tooth and nail to maintain her position and she felt content. She sighed apparently a little too loudly. The girl's singing stopped, and she turned throwing the dish towel over her shoulder and walking over to the bed.

"You're awake?" Jane blinked sleepily up at her. "I was enjoying your singing." The girl smiled down at her. "Well, that's probably for the best. I've developed a habit of doing it a lot when I'm at home." "You'll hear no complaints from me." "Are you in pain?" Jane remembered her injured knee and realized the girl had propped it up on a stack of pillows beneath the quilts.

She made an attempt to wiggle it slightly and a sharp pain shot up into her hip. She winced. "Not as long as I don't move it." "You need more pain medicine, but you should eat first. Let me help you."

She climbed onto the bed on her knees and the top of her dress draped down revealing her cleavage. Jane looked away quickly as the girl helped her sit up and placed pillows behind her back. "So, you're not under eighteen anymore, are you?" she asked while studiously observing an Amythest geode on the dresser at the foot of the bed.

The girl stopped and looked at her. "I mean you have orange abilities buy you don't look like a child, and it was just children." "It was when this started. Children don't stay children forever though." Jane nodded. "Not under eighteen then." "Definitely not." "Definitely not?" "I was seventeen when it began." "Definitely not then." "And you?" "Also, not a child." The girl laughed. "Yeah, no shit." "Hey!"

"Well how old are you?" "How old do you think I am?" "I don't know like forty?" Jane made a false noise of outrage. "That's rude. Close to accurate, but still rude." She laughed again, "All I mean is, I wasn't going to confuse you for being a child...not by a long shot." Jane glared at her. "The last part wasn't fully necessary...is it just you?"

The girl gave her a suspicious look. "I'm not gathering intel, I promise. I'm just making conversation," she reached out and placed her hand over hers. The girl blushed and pulled her hand away. "It's just me now," she said standing.

With Jane propped up in the bed, she returned to the kitchen and dished a bowl of stew bringing it back to her on a tray. When she smelled it sitting in front of her she realized how hungry she actually was and started to devour it. "Mm, it's really good," she said with a mouthful.

The girl stood watching her with a slight smile on her face. "Thank you." "What kind?" "It's rabbit. I snared it." "Really good." The girl brought her a glass of water and two pain pills. "Thank you."

She dished herself a bowl and returned sitting on the edge of the bed next to her instead of at the table. "My name's Jane by the way." "Artemis. Or just Arte." "Are cotton dresses the best attire for rustic homesteading alone in a forest?" "I have bolts of fabric and patterns for my dresses. It reduces the number of high-risk trips I need to take into shopping malls or city centers for resources. With my muck boots, they serve my purposes fine. In the cold months, I add leggings and a coat."

"I suppose you have a point. It does seem to be working fine for you." "Do you want me to make you one?" "Uh, no. Thank you." Arte laughed. "I still have my dad's old things. I may be able to find you a pair of jeans. They might be a little baggy." "Baggy I can deal with. Jeans sound nice."

"So." "Hm?" "Why were you skip tracing? I can't ever imagine doing that." Jane sighed, "Well, everything went to shit, and the military took over. Suddenly all of the manufacturing and truck driving jobs I'd worked in the past were taken over too. I could sign up with the military and maybe luck out with a transport job but more than likely I'd end up on guard duty in a compound. So, I opted for...independent contracting. It let me work on my own without a military man breathing down my neck all the time. And it paid well."

"It seemed like the best option at the time." "Do you ever regret it?" "What do you mean?" "All the kids you captured. Do you not ever feel any...empathy or remorse?" "I hate to break this to you but outside of your little forest retreat there's not a lot of empathy to be found in the post apocalypse." "That's sad." "It's reality."

They finished their meal in silence. Arte gathered their dishes and washed them in the sink. She returned and sat back down on the bed. "The rain has stopped. Do you want me to draw you a bath outside? I have a wood heated tub." "That sounds nice. Yeah."

Arte took Jane by the waist, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and helping her hobble outside onto the back deck of the cabin. There was a corrugated metal livestock tub filled with steaming water behind wood and metal privacy panels.

She averted her gaze as Jane lifted her shirt up and off. As she unclasped and removed her bra, she realized how exhausted she was. Her whole body ached, and she couldn't remember feeling this tired before. She stood with all her weight on her good leg, but her bad knee was still sending shooting pain up and down her other leg. She was moving slowly and becoming frustrated. She sat on the edge of the tub unable to continue.

Arte noticed her running out of steam mid-way through undressing. "Do you need help?" she asked hesitantly. "Please? I'm so tired." Arte walked over to her, coaxing her to stand and put her hands on her shoulders for support.

Arte was trying not to stare at her milky white breasts or the soft pink nipples adorning them. She was definitely not feeling a warmth in her belly from the proximity to them and she certainly wasn't admiring the curve of her hips and she moved to try and help the woman finish undressing. That would be inappropriate.

She undid the button and the zipper of Jane's jeans and pulled them down a little off of her hips. She tried very very hard not to study the expanse of her ass or the lace panties she revealed. She urged her to sit back down on the tub and she knelt working the jeans down and off of her legs while trying not to hurt her injured knee.

She stood and helped Jane back up. Jane wrapped her arms around her neck, and they stood close to one another. It felt incredibly intimate, and Arte felt the moment lengthening before she remembered she'd meant to remove her panties. She reached out placing her palms gently on either hip.

She noticed Jane's lips part at the contact as she slowly moved her hands down rolling the lace panties down until they fell loose to the ground. Jane was now fully nude as they stood inches apart from one another.

Arte had never experienced this level of contact with a person, and she realized she found the woman attractive, very attractive. After a long moment of regarding one another, Arte seemed to snap out of the haze she was in, and she wrapped an arm around Jane's back moving her back and into the tub. She held onto her as she lowered herself into the water.

She left her to soak and to bath. When she returned, she found the woman applying shampoo to her hair. "Do you want help?" Jane turned to look at her. "That would be nice. Thanks." Arte knelt behind her and massaged the shampoo into her hair. She kneaded her scalp gently and Jane leaned into the contact with her eyes closed.

Arte used the cup she kept nearby to pour water over her hair washing it out. She ran her hands through it as she continued to rinse it to make sure she removed all of the soap. When she finished, she asked, "Do you want me to do your back?" She squeezed the sponge.

"Mm, please." Art wetted her hands and applied soap before rubbing it along Jane's back. Jane leaned forward and rested her cheek on her uninjured knee as Arte used the sponge to gently exfoliate her skin. Eventually she used the cup again to rinse the soap from her body.

"Finished?" Arte noticed the water had begun to cool. "Mmhmm." She stood to the side of the tub and held open a towel as she helped Jane up and out of the tub into it. She wrapped her up and used a second towel to pat her dry before wrapping it around her hair. She led her inside where she exchanged the towel for a robe and helped Jane back into bed.

"Feeling better?" she asked as she laid down next to her on the bed. "Much better. Thank you for helping me." The girl turned and smiled at her. Jane reached out and ran her thumb along her lower lip. "I would have died without you," she whispered. They stared at one another for a long time before Jane moved closer and kissed her gently.

Arte returned the kiss and when they parted Jane asked, "Was that okay?" Arte nodded before turning and moving in close to her. Jane rolled over on her back and Arte moved up and over her, dipping down to kiss her a second time.

Jane wrapped her up in her arms and they lay together making out in the candlelight.

[natty-taffy]

the handmaiden - [natasha x reader]

Interactive fanfiction

series masterlist

Summary: Natasha is not exactly keen on the fact that Wanda has erased your memories

Previously, on this path: Chapter I.I.I.0

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ CHAPTER I.I.I.0.I

“Dear God” Wanda whispers to herself as she stares at you flabbergasted, praying that you were just being a little shit and pranking her, she will be so so fucked otherwise.

“I asked you two questions” You raise your voice slightly to try to hide the tremble in it. You’re sure this woman is not the one behind the Romanov attack, since she looks on the verge of tears- was she not expecting you to wake up? In fact, why is she so close to you?

As she draws in a shaky breath, you use this time to take a look around the room you’re in, trying to make a way out- you had never seen a room so geometric before- every surface is made of perfectly straight lines, and there is too much gray, white, and glass for you to consider comfortable. There are objects you’re not sure of what to do with- portraits, perhaps? Maybe a dark-tinted mirror, it doesn’t feel like a room someone would willingly live in. 

Wanda, on the other hand, is freaking out for very different reasons- your guarded posture and rapid gaze are more than enough proof- besides your forlorn eyes- that she has royally fucked up. She should have never pushed your mind for more- she had promised you she would be careful, even after warning you of the consequences, she should have never agreed.

Even worse than having your entire recent memory erased is what Natasha is going to do to her, once she finds out- and, unfortunately to Wanda, she, herself, is somewhat of an ethical person and knows that it’s the best path to follow, for both your and Natasha’s side.

“[Y/N], get up” Her strong, heavily accented, and fearful voice gains your attention. Huh, you also realize that the both of you, for some reason, are not speaking Russian, but English- a language you have been taught by Anastasia.

God, and where is Anastasia? You start to grow antsy as the woman shows no intentions of answering your questions- if she won’t listen nor answer you, why are you even here? 

“I will not do anything until you tell me-” Your voice is strong, focused, and you are on the path of threatening her before she cuts you off- for a small ego matter, you thank her for it, given that you didn’t have anything to threaten her with, in the first place.

“I’m taking you to her , Christ” Her distressed voice makes you stand up and get ready to follow her, afraid she could change her mind- you’re still very much confused as to your surroundings and the circumstances of it- so you just agree when she tells you “Let me handle her first, please keep quiet”

You pretend you don’t flinch when her doors are opened without the use of the doorknob, nor that your eyes don’t immediately burn with the strength of the lightness that the corridors of this place bear- stronger and unnatural in a way that you can’t understand. Is it possible that you might have ended up in a military facility? That is the only answer you can fathom to create when snaking after the woman for the endless hallways- all covered in some sort of metal, cold, straight-lined, symmetrically built as the room you were once in.

A small spot of fear starts to stain your thoughts- is she even really taking you to Natty? Can you trust her? If you don’t, is it even worth it to try to run? is there a way out of this place? Maybe if you had counted how many turns, if they were to the left or right-

You bump against the woman as she abruptly comes to a stop- there is a door, just as the room you had just left did, and you know- because you feel Anastasia’s heartbeat against the door, rather than because you believe in the redhead in front of you- she is behind it. The uneasy feeling that has been hunting your peace, and rushing through your veins finally eases enough for you to take a calmer breath.

“Remember, let me talk to her first, okay?” The woman whispers at you, she now looks as if she’s about to burst into nervousness- you swear you could almost see her eyes changing colors- but her smile is still trying to appear calm- you can’t help but wonder if is she in any danger “Things are not the same since you’ve last seen each other, much has changed”

At this, you take a step back, trying to gather what it could possibly mean- how long has it been since you’ve last seen each other? For how long have you been kept here? Why are you both here? Does she know Anastasia, too? What could have possibly changed?

The one spot of worry grows considerably larger as a looming possibility crowds your mind, dark and heavy as a tempestuous cloud- suddenly much of her behavior makes more sense, could she be, now, close to Natty as you once were? Is this why she has to be the one to talk while you stand in the background?

She finally knocks on the door- the both of you hold your breaths in apprehension and fear, for very different reasons. The answer doesn’t arrive immediately, but you can both tell she is here.

“Yes?” Says the voice you would recognize in every single universe- you release a deep breath, oh, she truly is here, and how you are enamored of it!-, but that holds such an unfamiliar undertone- something has, indeed , changed- she sounds somewhat bitter, guarded, shielded in a way she has never before. 

You try not to focus on the fact that she sounds older, too, that’s not a thing you would like to think about, right now.

“Tasha?” The woman asks and you can almost feel a dagger being aimed, pushed, and twisted into your chest- her tone carries so much vulnerability, her nickname carries a history that you do not know of- you once knew and shared everything with Natty. 

The door doesn’t take long to be opened after this- in fact, she was almost yanked as Anastasia stands behind it, stepping outside to immediately take a careful hold on the woman’s wrist- that is, until she stops on her track, after catching sight of you.

You try not to blink as all the blood from your body turns into tears under your eyes- she is older, she looks exactly as you had always imagined- a sight to be beckoned, to be reverenced, to be worshipped- you can even see a touch or two of her mother, not that you would ever mention it, as tyrant as that woman could be, you were not blind. 

“What is it?” She, almost hastily, asks the woman, but keeps you in her peripheral vision- something she has been doing ever since you can remember- but she usually wouldn’t ignore you, nor pretend to, as she is now “Wanda?”

“Nat, I-” The woman- Wanda, apparently- takes a step back, staying away from Natty’s reach “I am so sorry, I really fucked up”

You both frown at her behavior- Natasha, because she was still as blind to what had happened and as to why you, of all people, are standing in front of her door, behind a hysterical Wanda, and you, because, well , you don’t really have to explain it, do you?

“Wanda?” She eyes the woman carefully, taking a step back herself, trying to calm the woman down, before- finally - turning at you, with some urgency “What- are you okay?” You don’t know what exactly has changed, but there is no way you could ever meet her eyes and not swoon under its gaze, there is just so much you have read in it to not completely melt in the spot.

“I am, Natty- are you? What happened? Can you please- do you know- no, firstly, did we have a fight?” You immediately bite your cheeks at the very same second you close your mouth- you really should have rehearsed something. 

Her eyes are staring back at you with a mix of fear, hope, and love- there has always been love here, for you-, you don’t know what to make of it, so you stay put, assuming you probably are bearing a similar mix, you hope someone actually says something concrete, soon.

“What?” She whispers, it sounds wet, defeated and somehow enlightened- she sounds like she has come out of a dream, in a very realistic sense, she doesn’t sound very grounded “[Y/N], have you-”

Wanda opens her mouth before you can utter another sound- and she doesn’t stop “I got into her mind- she pleaded with me to do it, I know I shouldn’t have- I am so sorry, Natasha, I think I went too far and now… she has no memory, again-” 

Her voice disappears as the words start to sink in for the older woman, who now bears a look you have never seen before- Anastasia could have never done something like this, to burn someone so easily with a glare icier than snow itself. 

You watch quietly as Wanda scurries to finish her next set of confusing words, glaringly afraid of the woman you have always loved you so “Well, no memory but of you, of the, um, before ”

Anastasia blinks once and turns at you, eyeing you as curiously as a cat, she has always been very much cat-like, you ponder with a small smile- fear still floods her eyes and now love has given space to longing. Her beautiful face looks as if you are but a fragment of her dreams, too scared to move a wrong muscle and lose you. 

“[Y/N], dear, what’s my name?” Her voice is guarded, under what sounds like a thousand armors, but still sweet as has always been.

You can’t even frown at the question nor register the words Wanda has said, because of the blinding smile that takes over your face- she still holds you close to her heart, her eyes can never lie, not to you “For me it’s always been Natty, Anastasia for the others- and, I guess, Natasha for her”

Natasha has always prided herself on managing to remain impassive under any type of circumstance, no matter how gruesome or unthinkable it could get, she knew how to wear her armor very well. The one thing her heart couldn’t conceal with her mask, however,  was when matters came to you- not, in a hundred years of grieving, her heart could get used to not having your smile by her side.

“Oh” When a heavy tear makes its way to Natasha’s chin, and her voice can’t seem to find the right path to her throat, Wanda knows she has messed with a very dangerous thing. You, however, don’t seem to mind as much, having seen Anastasia cry a handful of times- she has the most sensitive soul.

“Please” Anastasia’s voice, weak as your knees have been ever since you have cast your eyes on her, fill the hallway with its strength “Let me hug you, kotenok ”

You don’t have to be told twice- although there is something different about her, although there is definitely a lot you seem to have missed, although she seems like a completely different person to the girl you once knew, there is not an inch in your body that could be able to deny her such thing- she is your home, after all. 

You curtly step away from Wanda so you can finally, finally , meet the warmth of Natty’s body again- you weren’t expecting to feel so whole, so beautifully you , after being enveloped by her surprisingly strong arms. Something in your soul finally seems to be complete, grounded on Earth in the way you were meant to be.

Natasha, on the other hand, feels the planets aligning with her heart, she feels the world finally taking a breath, she is one with the universe once again. Having your body in her arms once more has been nothing but a dream for so long, she doesn’t think she is able to understand all of the emotions breaking every surface of the armor she has built for so long. 

 “Dove, I-” She starts, but can’t really make sense of anything, she just needs to talk to you, feel you, look at you- to finally keep you safe, after so many years of her having done so, for her.

That’s exactly why her eyes find Wanda’s, still a few steps away from the two of you, looking as out of place and regretful as she felt. She doesn’t hate Wanda, she never will, but the witch has broken the one promise she has ever made, with none other than you , of all people- she can’t help it if, right now, all she sees is red, so dark it could almost be black.

“Wanda” Her voice, alien to your years, makes the witch face her once more “I don’t want you near me, us- her ” 

Wanda is not surprised by her words, nor by her tone, but, of course, it doesn’t make it any easier- she was expecting it, almost praying for the woman to berate her- because, at least, she wasn’t angry to the point of start ignoring her. Gloom settles into the witch as a well-known friend, she knows it’s her fault, but she can’t believe she has lost two of her best friends in spite of a day.

“Yes” She all but hums under Natasha’s gaze- and, before she makes any motion to leave, she defends herself- futilely, she knows-, one more time “I am so sorry, I was just trying to help”

Natasha knows this, but it’s still not enough- you could have been seriously injured and Wanda, of all people, should have thought about it before trying to do what you asked for- it is hard, but that’s exactly what she has been doing for so long, to keep you safe- Wanda almost put it all to lose “You promised you would never do it again”

“I know” Because, against Natasha’s judgment, Wanda did know, but the fate of not knowing your past was almost as bad as this aftercome, she just had to try to help you.

She is almost turning the corner of the hallway- a little bit in a hurry, eager to just take a shower and let her tears be the guide of her decisions for the rest of the day, oh how she wishes she could call you to her room and just tell you everything, so you would make her laugh and distract her from everything until the world no longer hurt. How she already misses her best friend.

“Wanda?” Natasha’s voice calls her once more.

She turns back at her almost too quickly, almost too eagerly, almost allowing a small smile in answer.

“Find Bruce” Natasha asks, not without coldness under her words “You need to find a way to fix this”

Wanda nods- she doesn’t wear forlorn eyes anymore, now, they are determined, fierce- she will find a way to fix this, she has to- for you, for Natasha, for her forgiveness. She sends you one last smile before her small, decided, steps are lost somewhere in the maze of hallways you came from.

It’s when you’re finally alone, that you find the courage to untangle yourself from Anatasia and whisper, still unsure about the environment you have found yourself in “What is happening, Natty? I am so lost” You confide to her, watching as her attentive eyes drink from every word you say- you can’t lose another second before you whisper one of the phrases you have told her the most “You are so beautiful”

Her blush, one of her most given answers, is accompanied by the most beautiful smile there can ever be “Oh, darling owner of my heart” She whispers back at you, opening the door she has come from, not long ago and tugging your hand softly “Come in, I shall tell you everything”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Final paths coming soon!

[xojennyboo]

A/N: Here’s a little something I wrote out of the blue. Thank you always for reading my stuff. Please like, comment, reblog, and send in suggestions! Happy reading.

Church can be the most beautiful and holiest place on earth, or it can be the most sinful place on earth. I’ve grown up in the church, both my parents being religious but unfortunately, with both of my parents being the priests of the town church, means more responsibilities for me. According to my mother, I have to be an "example" to the girls growing up with the church. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy doing my participation at the church. I enjoy planning weekly activities for the children. Although these are great things, the church doesn’t define me. I have fun with people who I’ve grown up with all of my life. We go out and party, some do drugs and drink. I think I can say that I have managed to balance the church life and my personal life.

For the past month, there has been talk about the Styles family coming back into town. I remember that they left after high school graduation, along with their son Harry. Harry was always getting into trouble, always skipping Sunday service and partying. Harry and I had our history. In school, he would always flirt with me. It was very surprising that he had the balls to flirt with the priests’ daughter. One thing led to another and soon we had created a beautiful relationship kept from the eyes of others. We had a secret hiding spot in the woods and that’s where I had lost my virginity to him.That was another bad thing on the list of being the priests’ daughter, only daughter. The boys in school were always afraid to talk to me or flirt with me. This caused me to be some sort of a loner, besides my best friend Alice. She has always been there for me and understood my bittersweet relationship with the church. Her parents are very close to my parents, kind of like best friends you can say. Alice and I grew up together and went to school together. She’s basically the sister I never had. Now we’re both 26 and dedicate most of our time to the church.

Today is Sunday, which means an early morning and an overall busy day. I got up and took a shower, getting up at 6:30am in order to take my time to get ready. For my outfit I decided on wearing a black skirt that went down a little below my knees and flowed nicely. The skirt had a flower pattern all around it, the flowers a beige color. I decided on wearing a long sleeve beige shirt to compliment the flowers on the skirt. After I finished doing my hair and makeup, I look at the time, 9 am. Church doesn’t start for another hour, but you still had to get ready for today’s service. I put on my beige heels and made my way towards the kitchen. I was expecting to see my parents down here, but they probably already made their way to the church. Weird. I grabbed my purse and went to my car. The church was only a 10-minute drive from our house. Once I arrived at church, I saw two cars in the lot, one being my parent’s. The other I did not recognize. I parked my car and made my way into the church. The church is huge, beautiful in every square inch. My favorite part was the stained glass adorning the building. I made my way down the aisle, seeing my mom and dad talking to a couple and a third gentleman. As I got closer to them, my heels making an echo sound as I walked, I recognized the couple. I stopped in my tracks as everyone stopped their conversation and looked at me. The Styles family.

“Good morning sweetheart. Sorry that we didn’t wake you, we had special guests to attend and welcome back”, my mother said motioning back to the familiar family in front of me. Harry’s mother spoke first. "Y/n look at you so grown up! Gosh you look more and more like your mother each day!”, she says pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back, glad that the rumors were true. Mr. Styles also greets me and pulls me into hug. “And you remember our son Harry, right?”, he asks. “'Yeah, I do”, I say giving Harry a wave instead of a hug. I couldn’t’t help but feel my heart rate speed up as I look at him. He looked completely different but the similar at the same time. He literally took my breath away at how handsome he got. He was taller than I remember, he had built muscles, grew facial hair, and his curly hair wasn’t as curly as before, more like a natural wave to it. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him as they all mingled with one another. Thankfully he was paying more attention to my parents than at me. You slowly walked away and made your way to the back of the church and into your office. You loved the fact that you didn’t have to share one with your parents. You placed your bag on your desk and turned your computer on looking through the schedule for the day. You really didn’t have a lot planned for yourself just a little coloring activity with the kids.

Since the kids who attended the church were majority minors, your job was to keep them busy and entertained while the parents listened to the sermon. Sometimes Alice would help you with the kids but unfortunately, she is out of town with her parents this week. There was a slight knock on the door interrupting your train of thoughts. “Come in’, you say, and the door opens revealing Harry on the other side. “hey”, he says, coming in and closing the door behind him. Act normal y/n you cannot react to him. “Hey”, you say back giving him a smile.”I apologize for not saying anything earlier, I didn’t know what to say considering all the time that has gone by,”he says. “It’s alright. I felt the same way,” you say to him, silence overtaking the room. “You look great y/n “, he says. You smiled shyly, your cheeks turning pink at his compliment. “Thank you. You look great as well Harry”, you say, turning your attention back to the computer screen that was in front of you. “I see you still react the same way towards me y/n” he says, his voice lower causing your legs to squeeze together. You heard him chuckle beneath his breath before making his way towards you standing right behind you. “What are you working on”, he asks looking at the computer screen. “My schedule", you whispered, not liking the effect that he continues to have on you after all these years. "Coloring with the kids?” he says. I just nod not trusting my voice at the moment. “Mind if I help?” he asks you. “You’re attending todays service?" you turn around in your chair facing him, closer than what you would like. He gives you a smirk right before placing both of his hands on either side of your chair and leaning down closer to your face. He’s now face to face with you, eyes looking into yours and then down to your lips. Your chest rising and falling at a quicker pace than you would like, your breathing picking up at the close proximity.

“Hmmm?” he hums as he closes his eyes and inhales, taking in the aroma of your floral perfume. He smirks before opening his eyes. “Y-yes”, you whisper to him. He smiles, looking at your lips one last time, before pulling away completely and making his way to the other side of your desk. As if on cue, the door to your office opens, your parents coming in. “Honey, service will begin soon. Ready to take the kids to the other room?”, my father asks. “Yeah, actually Harry is going to help me today since Alice isn’t here", I say to my father. "Perfect. Make sure you make Harry feel welcomed especially since his family will be part of the church.”he says. “Of course, don’t worry about it”. I say smiling and getting up from my desk. I adjust my skirt and start making my way to the alter. Harry is right behind me, his footsteps echoing along with my heels. “All you have to do is greet the parents as they come to the front and take the kids, forming a line next to you”. I say to Harry who is listening attentively to my instructions. That’s exactly what we did. Soon we had two lines of children, a total of 20 kids. We made our way to the back of the church and into the cafeteria area since it was the only room in the church that can fit these many kids. “Good morning kids! How’s everyone doing today?" I say to the kids. The kids all together say good morning to me. “We have A special guest today who will be helping me with you little angels. Please welcome Harry Styles “, I say to the kids. Harry says hi to them waving. An explosion of greetings filled the room causing Harry to smile. “We're going to take it easy today. We’re going to start by coloring in your workbooks and then make our way to eating some snacks. Sounds okay?”. I ask the children. They say yes and I tell Harry to help me hand out the workbooks to each child along with the crayons. Once the children are talking and occupying themselves, me and Harry sit towards the back of the cafeteria, allowing the kids to have their space.

“You’re great with them. It looks like they truly trust and love you”, Harry says fiddling with the thick rings adorning his fingers. His demeanors different than what it was in the office. “I love keeping them company. I’ve seen many children grow up in front of my eyes. I want them to feel safe around me. I want them to trust me with whatever they may need. Especially when it comes to them wanting to talk to someone", you say, watching the kids color in their books. “How long have you been doing this for?”, he asks. “For about 5 years now. I enjoy it really. Gives me a small hope that I may have some positive impact on these kids.” I stayed quiet for a bit until I start laughing at some of the kids who start arguing. These kids were good kids and they always had small banter here and there, but nothing ever too serious. Once an hour had passed it was time for snack time handing out the snacks to the kids. Once they ate their snacks, Harry and I took them to the playground that was at the back of the church outside. It’s a beautiful day out today. I watch the kids interact with one another as I make my way to the swings. Harry just follows. I sit on the swing and soon I feel Harry behind me, my hands on each of the chains besides me. I feel the swing move as Harry slightly pushes me. “Harry, what are you trying to do?”, I ask him, stopping the movements of the swing. He sighs, not saying anything as he sits next to me on the empty swing. I roll my eyes, frustrated by his lack of words, before getting up and strolling along the playground watching that the kids were being careful. After half an hour not saying anything to one another, we gathered the kids to go back inside. The sermon should he over by now. We both take the kids back to the main room, taking each kid to their parents.

Everyone leaves, giving me the chance to escape. I grabbed my belongings and made my way to the car, driving to the nearby coffee shop. I haven’t eaten breakfast, and I was starving. I ordered a muffin and a white chocolate mocha latte. I loved coming to this café, since it always gave me a feeling that I was at home. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened today in your office. The feeling he gave you felt exactly like how it was in high school. It infuriated me that he was still able to make you feel that way. I had a crush on him back then, but I always thought that it was because he was the only one giving me attention. What game is he trying to play? Why did you feel the way you did? Why did you want his lips to press to yours? I finished my breakfast and made my way back home. My mom and dad weren’t there yet assuming that they were still at the church. I went to my room and started planning next week's schedule. After, I did my bible study since I didn’t attend the sermon. Once I was finished, I looked at the clock to see that it was already dinner time. Your parents still weren’t home. You texted your mother asking where they were. According to her, they were spending time with the Styles and were going to have dinner. Great, another lonely night. I got off my bed and made my way to the living room, turning on the TV to watch Netflix.

I was halfway done with the episode when the doorbell rang. Who could it be at this hour? I opened the door to see Harry standing there with a box of pizza in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “Care to have dinner with an old friend?" he asks. “Depends, are you planning on acting childish and continue not to talk to me?”, I ask. “I won’t be children, I promise", he says. I open the door and allow him to come in. “Looks exactly the same since the last time I saw it “, he states looking around the house. “Yeah, nothings really changed", I say, taking out plates for us to eat. He opens the box of pizza, and he gives me a slice before placing one on his plate. He then opens up the bottle of wine and pours some in the glasses that he pulled out from the cabinets. We eat in silence for a bit, my favorite show playing in the background. “Feels like old times yeah?” he says. I just nod my head, my mouth full of pizza. Once we were done eating, we made our way to the living room and watched TV. It was nice but I still couldn’t stop thinking about our encounter in my office. “I apologize for my behavior earlier today. I was out of line. I just... Seeing you again bought so many memories from how we were before I left”, he says, looking straight at the TV. “I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend or not and I just acted on impulse,” he says. “No boyfriend that you have to worry about”, I tell him. The mood in the room slowly takes a huge turn after my confession. It’s the same feeling like in the office. There was built up tension. We continue to stay silent, but this time it was a comfortable silence.

Harry stayed with me until my parents came home. It was very nice to catch up with him after all of these years. He attended university and graduated with a degree in English. Most of the time he dedicated time to his family and tried to change for them and for himself. He mentioned that he had gotten into trouble after moving which made him want to change. He said that he turned to church for guidance but that he wasn’t super religious like our parents. He was glad to be back in his hometown. I was super happy for him. The next couple of months were a blur with the holidays coming up. Me and Harry became super close, as friends, and we were having the best time planning holiday activities for the kids. Everything was running smoothly. I was currently in my office putting our plans in my calendar in my computer. “Hey y/n, the shipment for the holiday decorations is here. Where do you want me to put them?”, Harry asked carrying two big boxes in his arms. "Cafeteria please”, I instruct. Soon he came back into my office. Today, it was just us two in here, both of our parents going out to dinner. “So, what do you have planned for the evening?", he asks me as he sits in front of my desk. “I’m not sure. Probably just grab some takeout and go home. What about you?” I ask him, focusing my attention on him now. “Have dinner with me tonight", he says to me catching me completely off guard. “Once you’re finished, we can go. Just let me know”, he gets up from the chair and leaved my office. Why does he always do that?! He always says some demanding or cheeky comment, leaving me speechless and flustered. I take deep breaths and gather my thoughts and emotions before grabbing my belongings and exiting the door. I walk towards the alter where I see Harry knelt down finishing his prayer. I don’t know why but seeing him do that does something to me. Makes me think about very sinful thoughts here at church! I cleared my throat once he was done praying, his attention now focused on me. “Ready to go?”, he asks me. “Yes”, I say. “Alright let’s go”, he grabs my hand causing a spark run throughout my whole body. We walk hand in hand out of the church and into his car. “Where are we going?”, I ask looking out the window at the scenery. “You’ll see when we get there”, he says. The rest of the car ride was silent. Soon, I started recognizing the scenery in front of me. Are we headed to where I think we’re headed?

I start noticing the familiar trail leading to the woods, coming closer to the cabin. Our cabin from years ago. When we were in high school, Harry and I would come here after school almost every day. There, he would he completely different than how he acted around school. He was the bad boy in high school, but here, he would act like he has been acting now. Vulnerable. My heart rate started to increase as I saw the cabin fixed up, nothing to how it looked years ago. Harry parked the car and came around to open the car door for me. I was too stunned to speak. All I did was walk around the cabin, inspecting it to make sure it was the same one. “It didn’t look like this before”, I say walking back towards him, a smile plastered on his face. “Do you like it?”, he asks. “I love it, did you fix it?”, I ask him in disbelief, his answer just a small nod. “When did you do this? How?”, I had so many questions. “This is the first thing I wanted to do when I came back. This was our happy place when we were younger. When I visited it the first morning here, I was devastated when I saw that it was going into ruin. So, I looked for people who could do the work and we fixed it up. Although I did add extra things that weren’t there before”. He explains. He walks to the front door and motions for me to go in and I do just that. Inside, there was a small kitchen area, dining area, and a bed by the window. It wasn’t a huge cabin, but it was spacious. “I can’t believe you did all of this”, I tell him looking around. “Maybe we can continue to use it again like we did before. Create our happy place again”, he says coming closer to me. We're standing face to face now, his hands on my waist. “Do you remember the night we spent here?”, he asks me. How could I forget. I lost my virginity to him here. I was scared that night. I had told my parents that I was staying over at Alice’s house but instead me and Harry met up here. He had gotten us takeout, and we talked for hours and before you know it, one thing led to another, and we slept together. Although we were young, I knew that I wanted him to take it.

“When I left, I feared you would forget everything we did. That you would be mad at me for leaving and would regret everything", he confessed. “I would never regret what we did Harry. I understood why you needed to leave. What truly hurt more was the fact that you didn’t attempt to contact me at all”, I say, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. “I know Y/N, but I needed to get my, shit together. I needed to change for you”, he says to me. “Why for me?”, I ask, the tears falling from my my eyes and down my face. “You know why”, he says before leaning down and attaching his lips to mine. His hands are holding my face, his fingers wiping away my tears as his lips are dancing with mine. Without breaking our kiss, he grabs my purse and places it on the table by us. His hands are placed on my back, pulling me closer to him. My hands are around his neck playing with his chocolate curls. Memories from that night replaying in my head as the kiss intensifies. Harry walks backwards as he sits on the bed, bringing me with him as I straddle his waist. He positions himself leaning against the wall by the window. He breaks the kiss and reaches towards the switch by his head. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusing. He flicks the light switch and soon the cabin is lit up by small fairy lights. I gasp as I look outside noticing that the trees surrounding the cabin are also lit up all around in white lights. "Harry!", I say in excitement. All he does is let out a chuckle as he brings his lips against mine again. This time the kiss is more intense. We're pulling each other closer, our want for one another consuming us. “Do you trust me?”, he says against my lips.” Always”, I answer against his lips. He removed my cardigan slowly, my arms exposed. He kisses up my arm and removes my shirt. He admired my breasts as he starts placing kisses on my neck and chest. I grab the hem of his shirt and removed it exposing his upper body that is now filled with many tattoos. I gasp, my hands reaching down to the butterfly tattoo on his abdomen. “Do you like them?” he asks looking at my movements and reaction intensely. “Yeah”, I whispered to him, placing small kisses on his exposed chest. He smirks and pushes me down to the mattress, positioning himself on top of me, continuing his assault on my neck and chest. “You don’t even want to know the many nights that I have thought about having you like this”, he whispers in my ear, my fingers exploring his bare back. His fingers make their way to my back and unclasps my bra, revealing my breasts. He lets out a small groan admiring my naked upper body before taking one of my nipples into his mouth. My body instantly reacts to every move he makes, his soft lips around my nipple causing a whine to come out of my lips. His hand reaches over to my skirt lifting it up before he places his fingers on my closed pussy. I moan as his fingers start rubbing small circles on my clit. His fingers moving up and down my slit his fingers circling around my wet hole, causing my back to arch. His tongue flicking my nipple at same pace as his fingers rub me.

I couldn’t help but moan his name at the pleasure he was giving me. He removes his mouth from my nipple, before taking his fingers into his mouth, tasting my wetness. He lets out a low moan causing you to let out a small moan as well. "Delicious", he says as he unzips your skirt and removed it, taking your panties off as well. Without being told, he removes the rest of his clothing as well. My eyes are now distracted on his penis, his size definitely bigger than before. You heard Harry chuckle as he placed his head between your legs. “Enjoying the view?”, he asks. Before I could answer Harry attaches his mouth onto your wet pussy, my back arching at the feeling of his tongue flicking on your clit at a fast pace. He changed from flicking to sucking on your clit, your body always giving him the reaction that he wanted. The noice of his mouth devouring you filled the cabin walls, your moans coming out in soft whimpers. Your hips soon started moving against his lips, Harry moving his head in the same direction as your hips, allowing you to ride his face this way. You felt your orgasm approaching, your small whimpers becoming needy moans for release. Harry wrapped his arms under your pelvis and held your hips down as his tongue licked you completely. His tongue gathering your wetness to cover his tongue. Before you know it, you were moaning Harry's name repeatedly as your legs trembled around his head, your orgasm taking over your body as Harry continued to lick you clean.

Once you relaxed from your orgasm, Harry positioned himself at your entrance.”before I do this, I have to ask a question,” he says. You motioned for him to continue." Have you slept with anyone else? Don’t get offended, I just want to know so I know how I can be with you.”, his question catching you off guard. It wasn’t the fact that you didn’t want to sleep with someone else. You just didn’t like the idea of sleeping with random people. The boys in school were too scared to talk to you and if they did, they didn’t make you comfortable. “No”, you shyly respond. “You’re kidding right?”, he asks making his reaction towards your answer nerve-racking. “no one else has touched you besides me?”, he asks in disbelief. You simply nodded. “Jesus Christ woman. You’re driving me crazy. This might hurt a bit then”, he warns you before slowly entering you. The intrusion causing a stinging sensation for a few. Both of you moaned against each other's lips as Harry held still enjoying the light grip your pussy had on his dick. Once the stinging sensation disappeared, you told Harry to move. He slowly thrusted out and then in, your eyes rolling back at the pleasure you were receiving. Your nails dug onto his back as his thrusts started to pick up at a faster pace. His hands were wrapped around your thighs, his head in the crook of your neck as his thrust were getting deeper into you. The noise of slapping skin mixed with both of your moans caused you to feel wanted and worshipped. Harry’s moans against your ear caused tingles around your body, your second orgasm soon approaching. The bed squeaked to the movements of Harry’s thrusts. His thrusts were so deep that you thought you can feel him in your stomach. “Oh my God you feel amazing my love”, he pants against your skin. His words causing you to pant louder, your moans coming out as your orgasm was starting to take over your body. “That’s it baby, come for me,” he moans out as he attaches his lips to yours, feeling his sweaty skin against yours. Both of your moans spilled out against each other’s lips as your orgasms overtook your bodies. His hands held yours tightly as he rode out both of your highs. At this point both of you were breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. This was definitely more intense than the last time. You felt Harry's weight on you as he slid out of you. Thank goodness for birth control. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers playing with his hair.

In this very moment you were the happiest you’ve ever been. You didn’t want this moment to end, and you wanted to stay here with Harry forever. You felt Harry shift, completely coming off of you, lying next to you. “That was amazing”, he says laughing. I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I lay my head on his chest, my right leg over his his arm on the bottom of my back. I could near his heartbeat slowly coming down, but speed back up once I start tracing his tattoos. “I really like your tattoos H”, you say to him as you trace the butterfly tattoo again. “And I really like you”, harry whispers to you as his heartbeat increased as well. A smile spread across your face. “I like you too”, you say leaning up to kiss him. “You want to see where this goes?”, he asks motioning to both of you. “I would love to”, you say as you straddle his lips and kiss him again. "Perfect. Then I can guess I can call you, my girlfriend?” he says. “Your guess is correct...boyfriend", you smile against his lips. You couldn’t wait to see where this would lead. You were nervous and scared. One thing that you were sure of is that your feelings for Harry were strong and you felt completely safe with him and that you were ready for all the new adventures to come.

[carlos55inz]

so . i suppose i am back ( still not particularly well, but i guess possibly losing your mind in reality fuels the creative process maybe ?? ) with something also in a futuristic au but like … i guess blade runner & inception aesthetics tossed together with an anastasia backstory & rich kids & businesspeople politicking ft. illegal things & like . way too many ‘ accidental fires ’ ? idk . i did say i was losing my mind & the pov doesn’t even give the full context . ( it’s max & carlos & charles, but the vibes are kind of angsty & rancid & don’t even @ me about relationship dynamics, whoops ? )

in hindsight, the disaster started when finally, there came a night when max verstappen got drunk in heaven. only, he’s not really in heaven — it’s just the joking nickname for the club on the 100th floor of this skyscraper, where all the floors below fulfill any desire you could have. some of what’s here is mundane, grocery stores with the freshest fruits & clothing boutiques to make you the most fashionable person around — others are the epitome of decadence & decay, of why pr teams are so badly needed. ( he’s smart enough to let other people find a fix for him, if he needs it that badly, at least. )

the mistake was letting lando drag him anywhere. the point of no return was letting him drag max here. ( he should’ve heeded the pr team’s advice, but he’d never been a fan of authority. )

the neon lights, sea of noises & lights, alcohol drenching his pressed shirt an hour in, alex tumbling into the pool with a giant splash before being yanked out by a disgruntled george, so many perfumes nauseatingly mixing together, lando somehow wresting control of the dj booth & cranking the sound up until he could hardly hear, until with the pulsing red lights & thundering beat, it seemed as though he was trapped right in the middle of a heart. ( he gets it, dimly, why people would give anything for a night here. it makes everything a haze, forgetting painfully easy. )

he is due to inherit the redbull conglomerate, who are involved in just about anything & everything, joked to have hearts that stain as black as the window tints on their tower that looms over the city almost menacingly — corporations who loom large in the public conscious & places you’d kill to get into. he takes a speeder to work & avoids traffic by simply flying above it all at dizzying speeds & swerving sharply around the neon lights & skyscrapers that comprise this city. he is max verstappen, he does not stray or doubt & yet —

perched on a barstool, dark coat draped around his shoulders & wide, unfocused eyes staring distractedly into the distance, rouge lips pressed against the rim of an overly colourful glass, something unreal made human — max has seen a ghost.

the sainz family is a taboo topic around these parts. once the founders of the most respected pharmaceutical & biomedical research company around, almost a decade ago, their tower burned down in a chemical accident & killed almost everyone inside, every member of the family included. alongside them, decades of research & innovation went up in flames & in the aftermath, the surviving employees all jumped ship. max remembers that day — the sky had turned artifically red, bleeding scarlet alongside the setting sun as the fire raged well into the night. he’d stood on his balcony, of the building he’d only moved back into weeks ago & watched the whole night & into the next morning, hands clenched into fists while jos watched on, something cruel & satisfied curling on his lip. he remembers reading the coroners’ report. he does not remember crying, but the sting hadn’t receded from his eyes for days afterwards. ( jos pushes him into the business, into colder things — he doesn’t fight it, this time around. )

the red bull conglomerate snatched up most of the surviving employees, because the sainz family had long been partners with them anyways. the rumours of what exactly was hidden in that tower though — the whispers of ducking government investigations, illict & lethal medication funneled down into the streets & most notoriously, pills that supposedly made you forget? those never went away. ( it’s nonsense. myths, stories spun by people who have nothing to lose by telling an impossible tale. or so they say. )

he isn’t so certain. but maybe it’s coloured by a childhood friendship with carlos, both of them growing up on the same enclave outside the city that redbull associated affluent families favoured, where the clocks went slower & everything seemed frozen in time, a little. the verstappens had a home there & so did the sainz family — & it was there that he met carlos, their only son, back when he was fifteen or sixteen & had wandered off his family’s property & into the lush orchards & meadows of the neighbouring one. ( he couldn’t be blamed — in the rare few trips he’d taken into the city, greenery was nonexistent & jos was no fan of gardening either. )

the first time, carlos had almost kicked a ball into his face in distraction & shouted there was an intruder. the second time, max gathered up the courage to march up the impressively long driveway & knock on the front door instead. the third time, the fourth — he forgot, after that. they started taking their lessons together while squabbling about formulas & diagrams, falling down onto the grass & blinking sun out of their eyes, carlos peeling oranges on the counter while singing so badly out of tune, the suspicious stares of their fathers from afar ( jos had never liked carlos or softer things in life ) while they laughed so much his chest hurt afterwards. smart & kind & warm — being around carlos was almost too easy, soothing the ragged edges of hurt & disapproval he didn’t even realise was there most times. ( he doesn’t realise until years later that carlos had grown up with almost no one except his family around, so isolated that not a single photo of him existed & no one else he knew had any recollection of him. it had been paranoia & in the end, it had perhaps been justified. )

max wasn’t in love, no, the same way he’d never grieved. ( liar, liar, liar. ) & it’s only afterwards, when he wakes up at lando’s with the taste of champagne in his mouth, that he asks. & lando, suspicious but flippant, laughs that finally max has succumbed to being lonely, that he’s come to steal another of lando’s friends, that he can’t believe max fell for an escort, for chili. ( he’s an escort for one of the most well-known agencies,lando laughs, so he’s nice to people like me for money & they like him a lot. that had sent him reeling. so he’s your friend? what’s his name? max had asked, praying lando hadn’t noticed how badly his voice is about to wobble. i’ve never hired him, we just met at the club two years ago,lando replies, he’s carlos. i don’t know his last name, i’ve never asked & he’s never said. the holographic photo display he projects at max is startling clear, bambi eyes & plush lips, eternally finding things a touch funny & — max almost throws up on lando’s sofa. )

carlos sainz, a name that curls around your tongue with the faintest hint of an ache. but that’s not the name he finds when he secretly goes digging, pulls some strings from people he knows cannot refuse him ( are nowhere close to repaying the debts they owe, because redbull are ruthless & resort to methods as dirty as everyone else ) & retrieves what he needs to know about the renault agency, about chili.

he’s still carlos. but this time, carlos merhi. that’s what the records say, shimmer of dark letters on an electronic screen. only member of the merhi family left alive after their street failed to survive a residential fire that had devoured much of it. ( a street that is being razed & integrated into a new redbull funded development. ) now, the most wanted escort in the city — the most beautiful thing to live nine levels below heaven.

a carlos who now doesn’t talk about his past, doesn’t remember him at all, smiles & laughs & easily leans into his hugs, makes feeling good way too easy. max has heard of it, trauma affecting memories. but to seemingly never say a word or make any hint of recognition ? either carlos is a devastatingly good actor, or something truly awful has happened. ( in a sick way, he’s almost glad carlos doesn’t remember, because then he wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt. )

max doesn’t want to think about it, the rumours about just what the sainz family knew. he doesn’t want to think about how he knows redbull was responsible for that fire because carlos sr had pushed back on every attempt to access the more cutting edge, radical research & they’d lost their patience in the end, & yet he’d still staked his life in their name, even if for years he’d thought his childhood friend was dead. he’s not a particularly good person by any means, they run this conglomerate like how you’d run the mob, taking out anyone & everyone interrupting their ambitions. but still.

he goes back, every week. transfers carlos exorbitant amounts of money, a paltry attempt at what he’s not even sure is a sorry. doesn’t ask for much of anything, sometimes plays games on the screen, sometimes just sits & stares at the skyline as he leans against carlos & tries to convince himself he’s not chasing the closeness they’d had all those years ago. lets carlos make conversation, take his mind away from the day, lets the past & its memories creep up a touch too close. afraid, almost, that it’s all just another trick of the light or sleepless night. rubs idly at his ring finger, hopes that no one realises there’s a few days too many where he doesn’t sleep at ‘ home ’ anymore. ( prays that carlos won’t remember, prays that he does & won’t turn his back instead. )

because there’s a reason this could be ruinous. he hadn’t understood why, didn’t know for what reason gp & hannah & adrian hadn’t called it all off screaming — keep your friends close, enemies closer, maybe. ( charles leclerc’s hand in marriage is not one he wants, but it’s the one he might have to take. ferrari & redbull, staring down mercedes & mclaren. it’d almost be cute if it weren’t his life being dragged from him, kicking & screaming. ferrari are older & more established, though losing that polish — he knows as long as they can expand their business, they don’t care for anyone who gets in the way. )

max knows charles too. intimately, since they were children, in the way you know a bruise, a scar, something ripe & bleeding & a mirror all the same. ferrari & redbull are at odds more often than not, one with a certain arrogance, the other a wounded pride — both with hubris yet afraid of being backed into corners by rivals unafraid to make public embarassments of them all. ( these conglomerates sell medicines & watch models stride across the stage by day, dabble in drugs & funnel money into illegal street races at night — everyone knows they are all virtually criminal enterprises cleaned up to look like proper businesses. )

they’ve tried undermining each other so many times, thrown wrench after wrench into each other’s plans & unhesitatingly exchanged barbed words across pristine tabletops. the comparisons are endless in the press & though it’s all nonsense — it still rankles max. ( screw destiny, being pre-destined, as if that had meant anything, or ever could. ) & now people up there are convinced that something could be scaffolded together from the combined force of ferrari & redbull together, tied by the prospect of a farcical relationship between their heirs & probably on the verge of disintegration every other day, because redbull liked to stab others & ferrari was good enough at stabbing itself sometimes.

he hates dealing with press. charles is good enough at it, armed with a charming smile & relaxes into the poses he needs to strike for the cameras. he can’t be bothered to change out of his standard-issue redbull shirt most days. charles probably has an army of people who make him look like a bit of a hapless model.

the nights max has dinners with charles under the guise of ‘ thawing the ice ’, he thinks maybe too much about painting an ugly bloom of bruises, something to stain the distanced perfection charles holds himself in sometimes. ( he eventually gives up on exactly how he wants to do it. ) the barely hidden reverence for ferrari ( a corporation ! max could laugh, if he weren’t so beholden to redbull for giving him something to do with life, the luxury he can now afford his mother & sisters ). it’s uncomfortable & the more time max unwillingly spends putting up this ruse, the more he feels like he’s spinning about, surrounded by funhouse mirrors while furiously trying to get away from it all. ( what sorts of ploys either of them have up their sleeves, he doesn’t know & even then, he is not, cannot be afraid. after all, if the thought of the dead didn’t scare him much anymore, what could ? )

but they are both prone to occasionally holding grudges. striding into uncertain futures, people who’ve been cruel & convinced themselves it was necessity. tied to families that loom above the rest, now to organisations that could care less as long as the numbers looked pretty & they won whatever turf wars were going on, both literal & metaphorical. people who could be softer & better in other situations, other times but — that’s the one luxury neither of them can buy back now. ( its a tidal force of something, a yanking that daniel side eyes & makes lando look at him like he’s gone mad, like they’re both afraid the other will call a bluff first. )

he attends events with charles by day & ignores the engagement rumours while insisting publicly he’s done with pointless fights, falls asleep with his hologram display in carlos’ bed at night. warm eyes, dark hair, a much envied beauty & a heart not his for the taking, not that he wants or could carry the weight of it anymore. charles & carlos — even the same name wound two ways, drenched in patterns of light & shadow dancing across the window. he cannot think about it anymore, not that it’s any safer to feel. ( like his moments aren’t scraped across his eyes, like he seems to be impatient & hot-headed but also can’t let any of it fade from his mind. )

in the divine comedy, dante wrote about hell having nine circles. perhaps max should’ve paid more attention in those literature classes he only ever wanted to escape from — because otherwise, he would’ve realised there was some irony in how the ninth circle was for treachery. ( that he may have been so much worse a judge of intentions, or that some people had somehow outplayed his hand for so much longer. )

( the complaint used to be that you couldn’t remember anything. now it’s that you can’t forget — not that it’s any less devastating. )

( tbh idk what i was going for with this but like . ephermerality of memory . people being kind of awful . lying versus omitting the truth versus keeping someone safe . slow thaws, a long ache . entanglements made fatal . or, as margaret atwood put it — we were ruinous together . but how else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin ? )

- charlos au anon <3

if you are scrolling down your page and see this ask, read it. this is an amazing au. i’m speechless. i wish i could read 200k words of this universe.

WE ARE BACK IN THE GAME IM SO EXCITED TO SEE YOU HERE. alright. let’s go. max, charles AND carlos? oh i’m fucking seated. im down. the sci-fi theme mixed with fantasy is one of my favorite things. you nailed this down we need more fics with crazy words building.

“joked to have hearts that stain as black as the window tints on their tower that looms over the city almost menacingly” damn charlos au anon, writing masterpieces in my ask again????

“he is max verstappen, he does not stray or doubt & yet—“ god how i love a yet— is one of my favorites things. the suspense. sitting at the edge of my seat waiting for more.

charlos anon au, if i had the money, i would sponsor you like the old times where the riches paid good money for artist to just do nothing except live by their art. i would give you money just so you could do nothing but write a long ass fanfiction of this idea because, really, what a masterpiece. i can’t get enough. this is my favorite setting for fics and you are brillaint in the way you describe and built the word and the relationship between the characters. this is Amazing. i read this almost 5 times because of how much i liked it. i gushed about it to my roommate. i said it before, but i need to say it again, i wish i could snuggle around your brain just to watch because it must be marvelous in there. all these ideas forming (you know those memes SHE SENT ME HER LOCATION TF IS THIS is me sending my location: charlos au anon’s brain)

“ blinking sun out of their eyes, carlos peeling oranges on the counter while singing so badly out of tune, the suspicious stares of their fathers from afar ( jos had never liked carlos or softer things in life ) while they laughed so much his chest hurt afterwards. smart & kind & warm — being around carlos was almost too easy, soothing the ragged edges of hurt & disapproval he didn’t even realise was there most times.” i got to say, you nailed down carlos. i love you talk about him in your ideas. always warm and kind, despite everything, after all, he is still kind. always.

yeah. right. max. that does sound like someone who isn’t in love, sure.

(also, versainz? way to get my heart. fucking love these two gremlin paired together).

CARLOS MERHI???? FUCK OFFFFFF. YOUR MINDDDDDD. OH MY GOD??????? “the most beautiful thing to live nine levels below heaven.” oh he is. he so is.

“either carlos is a devastatingly good actor, or something truly awful has happened. (in a sick way, he’s almost glad carlos doesn’t remember, because then he wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt.)” i need a moment to lay down. you do this every time. how do you pull this. you always make me feel too much that i need a break. but i can’t get a break because i want to keep reading. i can’t get enough.

“he doesn’t want to think about how he knows redbull was responsible for that fire” THE TWISTS THE REVELATIONS? oh this is fucking good. this is gold. i need a whole ass 300k of this. you have bewitched me body and soul with this one. you are getting better every time. i didn’t think it was possible was it was already fucking Great the last au, but you are doing it. i don’t know how but you are raising the bar every time.

“charles leclerc’s hand in marriage is not one he wants, but it’s the one he might have to take.” oh we got to charles. oh the plot is thickening.

“max knows charles too. intimately, since they were children, in the way you know a bruise, a scar, something ripe & bleeding & a mirror all the same.” fuck off charlos au anon you can’t just casually write this like it’s nothing. it’s everything. it’s something people would find in classical books and say damn. like dostoyevsky and dastiel fic writers are looking at you with envy right now. “because redbull liked to stab others & ferrari was good enough at stabbing itself sometimes.” do you get what i’m saying????? this is insane!

“screw destiny, being pre-destined, as if that had meant anything, or ever could.” oh i see you. i see the pre-destined thing. i do.

“we were ruinous together . but how else can we live, these days, except in the midst of ruin” charlos au anon. this was everything. i swear. this was. amazing. i can’t begin to describe how much i enjoyed every second of reading it (once, twice, thrice, and a bunch of times more).

(also i can’t add you or message you on discord for some reason??? so please you can find me as undertheceu if you want to ramble to me in there or just chat!! i would love to as i have much more i would like to say to you but i can’t right now because i’m in class!)

[radskull-69]

here’s chapter one so far!

Chapter one

Rain poured down harsh enough to make anyone’s umbrella crush under each droplets weight, the pittar patter louder then the radios shitty songs the man sitting in the red car was trying his best to listen to.

One was his name, or ‘Number One’, as the lab would call him. But it didn’t matter either way. A stressed man he was, it was easily seen in his whitening black hair despite him only being in his early fourties’. His skin olive skin stained with bandages cuts and bruises that ached whenever he shifted

The cars air conditioning did little to warm him up in the chilly night hours, neither did his long black coat and sweater. Nothing seemed to make him comfortable with tonight, not this music, this weather.. ugh.

“Damn weather men, never reliable.. what happened to my perfect sunny day??”

The man huffed out, trying to turn the radios dial up higher though it was already maxed out. Didn’t stop him though, wishing to have something to drown out the awkward silence of the cramped car.

“I told you it’d rain tonight, just be thankful we have a car with a roof this time.” A snippy and raspy voice rang out from the passenger seat beside One, his partner in crime and pain in the ass, Number Two.

Two was a royal cunt, at least to One. Red tinted glasses that made it near impossible to see his eyes underneath, black hair slicked back and a scowl painting his pale features as he sat there with one leg over the other snd his arms crossed.

And wearing that stupid sweater vest and dumbass neck scarf, if they weren’t on a mission right now he’d wring his neck with it. Maybe later tonight..

“Shut your trap, can’t hear my damn music..” One snapped with a glare before looking out the window, squinting his one eye to the apartment complex they were currently parked across the street of.

“You and your music- at least putting something good on. Every time you drive it’s pop music, what happened to the classics??” Two retaliated by reaching over to change the radios channel, ignoring the scorching look One threw his way before slapping his hands away sharply

“Bugger off! My car my rules, maybe if you didn’t keep crashing every good car the boss gives us I’d let you drive.” Every car their boss has given them for the purpose of using for their missions one of the other three have crashed, and One would be dammed if they let him crash his baby too. This red beauty was a deluxe! 

“I’m starting to think those glasses don’t do shit for your eyes.” One murmured to himself, turning away From two and placing his hands on the steering wheel. He kept his eye peeled for any sign of activity, drumming his fingers on the wheels worn leather as he fidgeted.

“Not my fault I nobody else on the road and drive over five! Tch, whatever. You got any update from those two idiots yet?” Two huffed and turned away also, not to keep his own eye out but to not look at One and fall into the strong urge to slam his head into the horns wheel. Again.

“No. I’m sure they’re fine though, probably… Four will keep a good eye on Three. I trust him” despite his confident words One wasn’t too sure, his two other teammates currently in that shady apartment building to retrieve a man the boss wanted them to take without witnesses.

Only problem was… one of those two other teammates weren’t good at being stealthy.. 

Three was a valued member of their team, a short woman with quick hands and a bright mind. Able to make weapons out of anything and everything, good in combat too. She was a shit stirrer though and half the time she was the reason missions were fucked over

The only reason One let her take the lead in this mission was because Four was with her, their muscle of the group.

He was… nice. Enough. He often joined in on One’s torment with Two and Three but he didn’t really do anything bad just watch, he didn’t say a word and One can’t remember what his voice used to sound like before he got half his face blown off. Luckily he patched himself up that it was only a minor injury.

At least.. he thinks so, hard to tell since Four is always wearing that black face mask. Along with that leather apron, stripped shirts, black gloves and bow tie. What a outfit..

But Four kept Three in check, those Two were close. And even if Four was more of a follower then a leader but he knew when to put his foot down when called to it, so that was a small comfort for One.

“Bet you ten bucks Three’s gonna blow this building up.” Two quips, saying anything to fill the silence and not be as bored as a rock.

“Make it twenty that she jumped out of… that window” One points to the middle window on the highest floor that wasn’t the roof, playing into the bet though he wishes neither scenario would happen. Blowing up the building would not be ideal… nor would Three killing herself. Again..

That old machine back at base could only bring them back so many times.

“Bet.” Two shot One a cocky smirk, so sure of himself that he’d win this bet like he’s won so many other things in their first few years of working together. One didn’t like thinking back on that.

One caught himself smiling back at Two and replaced it with his usual frown as he huffed and turned away, getting a cigarette out of his jackets pocket and lighting it with his red steel lighter. Taking a long puff he didn’t bother winding down the window, he didn’t wish to make it colder than it already was. And he was hoping he could make it harder to breathe for two. Call him petty.

Right on cue the ground shook with a deafening ‘BANG!’ Both One’s and Two’s heads snapping over to the building to see said small woman jumping out of the building through the very same window One had placed his bet on, shards flying everywhere behind her.

Even from here they could see the grin she had on her face as she jumped down, her red eyepatch tight on her damaged eye as she fell at a rapid pace towards the pavement 

Aaaaaaand hit the ground with a splat, the two men looked unamused from their seat. Without turning to Two One lifted up his palm and gestured for Two to pay up, he grumbled and dug in his pockets before slapping the bill in his hand

Number Four walked out of the buildings front door with a man thrown over his shoulder, closing the door behind him respectfully and passing Three’s mangled up body a glance before continuing on to cross the road to get to the car.

Just as Four opened the back seat and climbed in, making the car tilt for a moment thanks to his weight, did the building suddenly explode from the inside. The once dark and rainy city bursting with light that rivalled the sun, One hissed and covered his eye with his hand

One tried not to think of the people currently in that building, taking another drag of his cigarette…

“So, who wins the bet then?” Piped up Two, leaning back in his chair as he watched the brick building go up in flames, man he wished he had brought some popcorn over. He rolled his head to look over to One, raising a brow when he refused to answer

“We can split it..” he sighed and slapped ten dollars into Two’s hand, ignoring his grin in favour of looking over his shoulder to where Four was sitting. There target was knocked out cold sitting beside him, Four was putting his seatbelt on for him before looking over to One when he noticed him staring

“The fuck happened in there? I thought we agreed on stealth. Not fireworks with a show!” He grit his teeth and gave Four a unhappy frown, there goes his faith in his most trusted member of this freak show…

Four didn’t answer, of course he didn’t, all he did was shrug and look outside his window to watch the droplets slide down his glass. As if One wasn’t currently giving him a glare that could set another building on fire on its own

One turned back to his wheel and spat out his cigarette into the tin on the dashboard, it was all crushed up thanks to him biting down on it. Glancing up at the blazed building one last time he pulled out of his parking and drove down the road to head back ‘home’.

He was really gonna give it to Three for ruining another mission, ugh, at least they got their desired man this time…

~~~~

Please give me feed back on my writing! It’s been a while since I’ve written anything and I wanna know if I’ve introduced the characters well enough, obviously I’m not been halfway done for this chapter but give me notes please!

[khaleesiofalicante]

Hii. I just wanted to say that I absolutely love LDV gjskdksks. It's probably one of my favourite fics of yours so far, it's so good!! Idk I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it ahah.

Also, the pictures you shared from the concert looked absolutely gorgeous. the stained glass windows😯😯😯

Btw, I just wanted to ask. How similar is the LDV plot to RWRB? I haven't read rwrb and idk much about it so I just wanted to ask :)

Ahh, thank you so much. This made my day!

I'm really enjoying LDV as well. I'm currently focusing on fics that are a little light-hearted and fun (hehe for a change). So, it's definitely a lot of fun to write. I'm glad it's fun to read too.

The concert was so good and it was such an experience to watch it inside Saint Chapelle (it was super tiny btw. like an actual chapel lol)

LDV plot is a little different from the RWRB plot. Max and David are not based on Alex and Henry, but are simply 'taking their place'. Some of the main plot scenes and the overall course of the story (think of it like a skeleton of the story) are a little similar - like cakegate, their 'fake friendship', the friends with benefits situation and then the outing (sorry for spoilers!).

But there are a lot of things that are different and a lot of subplots in LDV that are not in the book - including Max's FBI dream, whatever the fuck Albert is doing with David, the Devlins drama etc.

In essence, you don't need to read the book or watch the movie to understand the fic at all. I don't use many book references at all, so you're not missing much. I've only used rwrb as the inspiration and the skeleton (which is very new for me too), but everything else is unique to this story.

PS - And update about the next chapter: I will post it tomorrow (i tried to post it tonight and i am sleepy now hehe). But here is a tiny snippy for you!

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Max asks himself and asks out loud. “I don’t like it when people keep secrets from me.”

 “What if…What if you find out the truth and don’t want to talk to him anymore?” David asks quietly. 

“That’s stupid,” Max frowns. “I love him.”

“Hm,” David says. “Then he’s very lucky.”

Max chews on his lip. “Sorry I dumped this on you. I didn’t know who to call.”

“You can talk to me anytime about anything,” David tells him softly. “Just remember that when people don’t tell you things, it’s mostly because they’re scared.”

“I’m not scary, am I?” Max frowns again, looking at himself in the mirror. 

“You terrify me sometimes,” David whispers. 

[razorblade180]

Wind’s Grace

A day of simple routine is never a bad one. Some may find it mundane and tiresome but the human soul finds solace in the known and well practiced.

Golden rays of warmth broke apart through stained glass of the Favonious Church. It’s most devoted follower rested motionless under the light, her hands together and eyes closed as she mentally recited her practice prayer of safety for all; as well the betterment of others. This prayer was quite lengthy and old but as the Deaconess, she would gladly uphold her responsibility to follow the steps properly. It wasn’t all that bad. Barbara only wished she finished her other chores sooner. The setting Sun on her eyelids was admittedly bothersome. It was hard not to scrunch her face from the invading brightness.

Barbara remained focused on her duties when relief came in the form of a soft palm and calloused fingers tips resting over her eyes to spare her the orange hue closed eyes made, turning her sight into a comfortable darkness. She knew this hand; although it was a bit surprising she was so wrapped in her concentration she didn’t notice his presence.

Barbara:Thank you Venti. I’ll be done soon.

Venti:Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Although, if you don’t mind, I’d love to hear the final lines spoken. They’re my favorite.

Such comforting words made it easier to focus under the brilliant light of day’s end. Ah yes, a routine was a wonderful thing. However, it’s also made things easier in all aspects. From the familiarity of practiced skills improving, or to the invisible Fatui agent who was ordered to cause a major incident that would send Mondstadt’s people, and more importantly, it’s Acting Grandmaster, spiraling.

In a room bathed in gold, a single man could only focus the intense glow of teal that seemingly stared right through his mask and into his soul. This had to be a ruse, right? Was he…seen? The god stood calmly in front of the girl with his hand still resting gently on her face; the Agent was left holding his breath as they dared not move closer to the Deaconess as he witnessed the gentle beauty of pure white feathers danced silently on formless wind as they fell from divine wings that gradually darkened the church.

The exit was right behind the Fatuus. Run back; all they needed to do was run back. Unfortunately, failure would not be welcomed. Involvement would be denied, and pressing forward… yeah right. They couldn’t even look away from the growing shade. The writing was on the wall. Venti’s eyes said it all and the air itself delivered the message simply.

“You’re trapped, but don’t worry. Freedom comes in many forms.”

Barbara:May the wind lead to freedom forever more, protecting the land and its people. In your name, Lord Barbatos.

Barbara felt Venti’s hand leave her face and she opened her eyes to see the same old whimsical smile. He kindly held out his hand for her to take and stand up properly.

Venti:Perfect performance as always.

Barbara:You’re earlier than I expected.

Venti:I had time to kill. What better place than here. It’s always prettiest this time of day. Maybe it’s the company?

Barbara:*red* If you say so. Although, I also love the sunsets inside here. Anyways, ready to go?

Venti:After you~

They began walking towards the exit hand in hand. Another normal day done for Barbara.

Barbara:Venti, you a couple feathers in your hair.

Venti:Do I? Hmm, not surprising. I’m always gliding around. It’s so liberating to try and reach the clouds.

Barbara:Just be careful. Remember, it’s a glider, not wings. I don’t even want to imagine if something went wrong up in the sky.

Venti:I mean it’s pretty simple, trying to rise high when you don’t have wings. You fall.

[francesminos-tt]

can i be another one who asks for toxic couple joffron or is this getting boring? if you have spare time Mi, I'm obsessed with the idea of ​​them interacting with Daemon.

Daemon Targaryen rarely doubted himself. He was the Rogue Prince, a chaotic man who had an unhealthy liking for violence. Laena used to forbid him from poisoning the innocent minds of their daughters. Rhaenyra, however, didn’t share such thoughts with her dear friend, so Daemon had the chance to influence the boys. Among them, Joffrey was Daemon’s most proud prodigy. The boy had enough courage and cruelty to understand the importance of violent measures. It didn’t change after he had presented as an omega. Despite Joffrey’s tendency for violence, he wasn’t Daemon’s biggest concern after hearing Viserys’s ridiculous marriage plans. Daemon was more concerned about Lucerys and his psychopathic one-eyed uncle. Surprisingly, Aemond proved himself to be a dutiful husband, a little obsessive perhaps, but mostly harmless. Joffrey and Daeron, however, caught everyone off guard by their mutual hatred and open hostility. Daemon remembered that royal banquet which ended in disaster. He didn’t remember who started it, but somehow, Joffrey stabbed a fork into Daeron’s palm and Daeron pushed Joffrey onto a pile of broken glasses. The bloodiness and sheer vulgarity turned the banquet hall into a sea of scream and panic. Alicent and Rhaenyra ran to their respective sons, the mothers throwing death glare at each other. Everyone was either too shocked or too scared to pay attention to the couple anymore, but Daemon did. He noticed how Daeron’s eyes flickered with excitement and how Joffrey’s bloody lips curled into a crooked smile.

“If you don’t want the marriage, I can appeal to the King to have it annulled.” Daemon said to Joffrey after the omega was bandaged up.

“No need, father. I am no coward nor weakling. I can handle that poor excuse of a prince.” Joffrey laughed through his nose, “I can handle my husband.”

Daemon didn’t push. Even for a violence seeker like him, the amount of injuries those two inflicted on each other was too much, but Daemon also knew that once Joffrey had made up his mind, nothing in this world could stop him.

So Daemon observed. He noticed how heavily Daeron scented Joffrey and how many scratch marks Joffrey left on Daeron’s body. They seemed to enjoy their bloody marriage and soon the court learned to live with their strange relationship. Still, Daemon began to have doubts. He didn’t doubt Joffrey’s ability to handle Daeron, but as a father, Daemon could not stand the possibility of Daeron being disloyal to Joffrey.

Daemon’s doubts ended themselves after an assassin attempt at Joffrey. The attacker wanted to spill royal blood, and the easiest target was Joffrey who spent a lot of time dueling and training with lowborn soldiers, knights or not. The assassin injured Joffrey with a poisoned knife in a duel. Joffrey collapsed almost immediately, his breaths ragged and short, as blood foaming at the corner of his mouth. Joffrey managed to stab the assassin before he went unconscious.

Rhaenyra was furious but her primary concern was to keep her son safe. Daemon stayed until the maester announced that prince Joffrey would make a full recovery, then he went down to the black cell. He was prepared to torture the assassin and milk information out of that filthy rat, but he soon found that someone had already done the fun work in his place.

“You dare to hurt something that is mine. I praise your bravery.” Daeron’s flat voice echoed in the black cell, “If you have an accomplice, now is the time to tell.”

Daemon stepped into the cell, only to find the assassin kneeling on the dirty floor with his eyelids removed and needles in all his ten finger nails. No, there was more. Both of the assassin’s legs were cut off from knees down. The man wasn’t kneeling. He was standing. The blood from his wounds pooled on the floor, staining Daeron’s boots, but the young alpha paid no mind to it.

“No?” Daeron huffed, “Your audacity surprises me. What makes you think you can kill Joffrey without my consent? He is mine. His life is mine to depose.”

“I can take it from here, nephew.” Daemon spoke, partly because he wanted to have some fun too, but mostly because Daeron’s hysterical words didn’t sit well with him.

“Uncle.” Daeron greeted him with ease, “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Joffrey woke up.” Daemon said, “He’s asking for you.”

Daeron paused. The young alpha’s face stayed blank for a moment, lips pursed into a thin line, and Daemon swore he caught some fleeting worry in his nephew’s eyes. However, Daeron quickly recovered, the phantom worry gone, replaced by something Daemon couldn’t read.

“I don’t think Joffrey will ever ask for me, unless he wants to kill me, but I appreciate the sentiment, uncle.” Daeron let go of the assassin and offered the poor man to Daemon, “He’s all yours. I won’t suggest kill him too soon. He haven’t suffered enough.”

“Where are you going?”

Daeron didn’t answer, his silver hair disappearing into the darkness.

The next time Daemon saw Joffrey and Daeron together, they were fighting again. Over something as childish as which should go on scones first, cream or jam. Joffrey threw a careless punch at his husband, and Daeron failed to dodge in time, letting Joffrey’s fist land on his handsome face. Joffrey laughed triumphantly and Daeron retorted back. Daemon noticed the subtle relief hidden in Daeron’s mockery.

Daemon Targaryen rarely doubted himself, but now, he thought he might have misjudged his youngest nephew.

[ruiniel]

Fandom: Castlevania Series (2017-2021)

Rating: M

Characters: Alucard, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades

Relationships: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades

Additional Tags: Post-Castlevania Season 2, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Trephacard, Grief/Mourning, Mental Anguish, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Monsters, Canon typical violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Developing relationship, Polyamory, Eventual smut

Chapter I

Also on AO3.

X.

A lazy wind breathes through the trees as they near the structure, stopping before the building. 

“It seems… quiet,” Sypha comments, gazing at the walls covered in dark green ivy. Chipped murals depicting biblical episodes are visible here and there, painted faces of saints staring at them with aged eyes. 

“I hear no heartbeats,” Alucard adds, and Trevor hums as he follows along the side to the main entrance.

The wooden gates of intricately carved wood are ajar, and worn with time. 

“Dustier than I remember it,” murmurs Trevor as they enter, watching sparse rays of light filter in through the stained glass windows.

“And empty,” Sypha says, lighting a swift flame with a flick of her fingers. 

The giant cross of a teary, dying savior does nothing to alleviate the sense of barrenness the place invokes within the hunter, something that doesn’t slot at all with memories of what used to be. 

“Whoever dwelled here has long since departed,” Alucard surmises, paging through a dusty Bible set on the pulpit. “This place is abandoned.”

“Thank you, lord Obvious,” Trevor mutters. “That was that, then, let’s go.”

It’s funny, sometimes, how the very worst of luck catches you by the throat. It’s a useless thought coming to mind as the doors creak behind them. “Huh, strange.” 

“What is?” asks Sypha, her voice echoing in the vast enclosure. 

“There’s no wind now,” Trevor says, gazing long at the broken tiles. “There used to be a cellar here though, and—”

He doesn’t finish, caught off guard while his body strikes the broken floor. “What the hell’s wrong with y—” his words die there, gazing from Alucard’s strained expression towards the wall.

What looks like thick slime slides down the washed out silhouette of one mural painting, burning its way through the wall. 

“Behind you!” Sypha.

He and Alucard both roll over together grasping at each other, fast enough to miss another projectile of the same stuff, at which point all Trevor’s reflexes get a good grip. 

They’re both on their feet in a second. “What the fuck are those?”

They stare at the giant dark mass slithering towards them from every which way—some crawl above them, over the ceiling, curved talons leaving cracks in the stone. 

“I don’t recognize their ilk,” Alucard helpfully adds, his sword slashing the air at his side. 

“Whatever they are, hoping they die,” Trevor says, his whip at the ready, watching Sypha already forced into dispensing with ones having made their move. Too far, she’s too far. He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but now the two of them have their own batch to deal with as two bodies fall to pieces before him.

“Belmont!” 

Trevor avoids the burning projectile, jumping as high as his muscles allow, landing right atop one of those things and he can’t see faster than his own movement, instinct taking over as he knifes it in the head—or what he thinks is its head?— then curls his whip around his arm, unleashing it against a larger one.

And ‘creature’ is the right word here—they look as bad as they reek, and somehow he ends up back to back against Alucard, downing as many as they can while trying not to get burned alive by whatever they’re spewing with relish. 

Multiple, hairy legs. There seem to be no eyes, his mind reels as he tries to find weak points, gaze briefly on Sypha at the front of the long chamber, freezing and burning them in turn as fast as her magic can hold. 

“Go to her!” Alucard cries, and Trevor doesn’t need a second urging. Not that she couldn’t handle this, but they don’t know the nature of these damn hellcritters, nor can they risk impairment—either of them—if they want to stay alive. 

The whip cracks as he makes a swing through her fire, rolling behind her and up in the next moment. 

“How are we doing here?” The space feels so much smaller now, crammed as they are.

“So... damn... many!” Sypha retorts, flushed from the effort.Trevor senses the anger in her voice as she does a fell sweep, icing a quarter of their surroundings but more just.keep.coming.

“Swarm!” 

They’ve been through worse, after all. They coordinate like one when the need calls for it, but when he sees Alucard facing more and more on his own, by comparison he and Sypha aren’t doing so badly.

“If only we could get the fuck out of here!” he cries, but likely she cannot hear him, focused as she is. Trevor lashes at two more spiderhags or whatever the hell they are, avoids a sputter of burning excretion at his face as he makes his way in a painstaking churn at Alucard’s side.

Their eyes meet—and Alucard wants to speak but doesn’t get to, and all Trevor sees is his horrified expression, and then the reason why.

“What are you doing? You were supposed to—”

The scream feels like a blow, and with a desperation he’s never felt Trevor glances to where Sypha was—was, because the very floor is sinking, crumbling before their eyes, taking her and a slew of those things with it. 

“Sypha!” he yells above the mayhem, rushing forward, pure relief when he reaches the chasm and sees her down there, in one piece. He lands before her inert body, just in time to clash with the mass of two creatures. 

At the end of his tether, he trips—but instead of being beheaded by a set of talons, a red flash blinds him once, and again and again, and soon there is dust settling and a horrible, endless ringing in his ears. 

Trevor tries to breathe, and somewhere along the way he’s taken Sypha into his arms, hugging her to him with the instinctual intent of a human shield. 

Now, panting, he can see her better. “Hey…” he tries, but her eyes are closed, and her form lacks that tense strength he knows. 

“Give her to me.” Alucard. 

Trevor obeys, not least because what-the-fuck-just happened, but he doesn’t have the strength to get her back up there.

Alucard does so, gentle in laying her on a bench before bringing Trevor up so fast he turns and vomits on the broken tiling. 

The festering odour, the darkness, the silence are all too much, but the thought of—

“Sypha,” he calls, feeling both lost and dumb, looking to Alucard who’s bundling her in his now ragged coat. “I… Alucard…”

Alucard doesn’t answer, quick about his task.  “I watch myself,” Trevor hears, words spoken in a chilling calm. “You watch each other’s backs, that was always our agreement.” He lifts Sypha in his arms again.

Well, crap. “You were fucking swamped—” 

Alucard rounds on him, freezing at a pained hiss from Sypha. He gazes at her briefly, in anger and remorse and the worry twisting Trevor’s own heart. His voice is low when he looks up, a bright red flame burning in the depths of his eyes. “You wanted to stay? What for? For this? So I can see you maimed, so I can watch you die?”

“Hey!” Whatever’s turning Alucard inside out reaches him too, now, and he can’t shut up. As usual. “Nothing works by the fucking book, but at least we're all still here, alive—”

Alucard turns away, Sypha held tightly in his arms, pacing out of the building as fast as he can without jarring her. 

Trevor follows, staring up at the skies tinted in a deceptively peaceful blue. Shit. It all makes him dizzy. He breathes through his nose, begging the battle tension to drain from his body faster, wishing for the words he so wants to spew to lie under his tongue where they belong. We wanted to stay so that you wouldn’t be in that fucking carcass of a place all by yourself. Because we care. Because I—

Doesn’t matter. His fists are clenched as he follows, fast on Alucard’s heels.

~

“Will she be all right?” 

“Of course.”

Trevor watches Alucard, rushing to and fro. He’s inspected Sypha for injuries as soon as they reached the castle, finding a sprained ankle, but luckily not much else. “I’m not certain about the extent of injury to her head, though.” He speaks through gritted teeth, but lost that flare of anger which so made Trevor want to smack him over the jaw in their frenzy. 

Now, there is only relief. Trevor lifts his chin, watching Alucard carefully clean the scrapes on Sypha’s face, then bares her leg to be splinted and bandaged. She lies there on a working table-turned-bed, in the laboratory. Not once does he raise his gaze to Trevor’s.

“Do you need help?”

Alucard shakes his head.

“Look,” Trevor begins. His throat aches. Sypha opens her eyes, gazes at him for a moment before her features return to stillness. “I’m—”

“I have this, Trevor,” Alucard murmurs, bent over her. “Go clean yourself up.”

His tone is dry, his hands meticulous in wrapping a gauze around the splint.

Trevor sighs, guilt and worry warring within like serpents coiling to bite. He clenches and unclenches his fists, winces in pain, figures it’s best he makes himself scarce before he says something he might truly regret. There’s been enough of that going around lately. 

As such, he turns on his heel and slowly departs, aiming for a change of clothes and, considering the burning sensation he’s begun to feel in his arm, some doctoring of his own.

It feels wrong like this; he should be back there, holding her hand, doing something—but Alucard’s stone-cold demeanor, the set line of his jaw and the cast of blame on his features… he couldn’t bear it. Part of him is grateful to Alucard for sending him away.

Is he a coward, too, afterall?

‘What are you running to? Do you have a destination in mind?’ Sypha’s grandfather had once asked in the early days of their meeting; in another life, it feels, before he knew that what his heart needed was right there, before him.

Trevor reaches his chamber, an old chamber with a tall ceiling where the breeze of evening sends long sheer draperies fluttering. He goes over to a washing basin, fills it and stares at the water, feeling for all the world like an outcast more than ever before in his life.

~

The walls are chipped here, he now notices. This place is silent as a grave when it wants to be, especially, it seems, when he most needs it to be anything but. Alucard stares down at his burden, held in his arms. The lack of timber left the fireplace cold, and he hopes what he can offer will be enough. 

They were careless. They were ambushed, they were—how had he not sensed anything amiss? He’s been here for hours, thinking the same thoughts, buried in the same guilt. 

And Belmont… 

A meld of concern and pure vitriol rises through him. How the hell did the hunter not see it coming either? If nothing else, they always trusted in each other’s abilities, and this time it was… nearly not enough. And he’ll be damned but he lost all composure the moment he rushed down there and saw them, and if anything happens to her, to either of them, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

That’s probably what frightens him the most. 

And it's not until Sypha stirs, body tensing as she seeks a more convenient place to rest her head against his shoulder that Alucard remembers how the weight of her makes him dizzy, like before, all those times when a fleeting stare or touch sent her static right through him.

She brings a hand to his chest, staring up at him with long-lashed eyes, bleary and slow to focus. Her cheek is pressed to his collarbone. 

“I... fell asleep…”

“Don't worry about that,” Alucard smiles, boot propped against one leg of the couch opposite them, gently rocking them back and forth in the chair. “Sleep will aid the healing process.” 

“Mm…”

She's still out of it, then. “How does your leg feel?”

The swelling on its own gives a rather good indication. Sypha moves, winces in pain. “Hurts less than earlier, doesn't make me want to scream … as well as can be?”

“Good,” his fingers skim the curve of her scalp, over a hidden scar he discovered there one night, the shape of a ragged sickle moon. He never did ask her how she came by it, but now words clog his throat like trapped fledglings eager to soar. 

She inhales, sighs, an arm snaking lazily around his neck. “Adrian…”

“Yes,” Alucard frowns, unused to hearing those letters in that order from her mouth.

“... too warm.” Her skin is slightly damp against his.

“I know. But the pain relief will help, you'll see. Forgive me, Sypha.” It sounds vacuous to his own ears, his regret. Sypha curls up more into him, and all he wants to do is die.

“Silly. There is nothing to forgive,” she shakes her head, voice raspy and cracking. 

Of course she’d say this. And things could have gone so much worse today. His arm tightens around her. “This could have been avoided, if only we—”

Sypha lifts her head; his breath catches with the brief press of lips to his jaw. “Don’t stay upset with Trevor,” she says, then sleepily hides against his neck. Her messy hair tickles his chin, and he can still smell the soap on her hot skin from her bath this morning.

“I’m…” Alucard presses his eyes shut. “I’m not.” Another mistake, his own doing. His hand alights on her hip, settles there. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

He sighs, the creaking motion of the rocking chair filling the silence for a moment. “I confess that I… don't yet know how to handle this.”

Sypha looks back at him, her eyes soft, lips slightly parted. “…this?”

Alucard's leg stops its languid motion of swaying them back and forth in the chair. He can't seem to bring the right order of words to this particular weave of feeling, the despair and the longing and relief; the blood. The truth of what they both are to him. "The two of you, close. Being here, living here.”

Sypha smiles. “Tell him that, too, will you?” 

“... I thought you were out cold at the time.” 

“I have a special sense…” she slurs, head falling heavier against him, “... for when you two argue…”

“Do you, now?” He needs no answer, and expects none will come anyway. She’s softened against him again, unconscious. 

~

Trevor fumbles with the roll, winces from the pure agony erupting in his arm and his abused fingers cramp so suddenly the bandage dressing drops from his hands. 

“Stupid idiot,” he grumbles, watching as it unrolls over the floor all the way to Zori the cat, who saunters through the space and sets to inspect it by way of paw, before raising his head to meow at Trevor.

“I'm glad someone agrees,” Trevor says, rubbing at his forehead. He's tired; more tired than he's been in a while.

“What… are you doing?”

He looks ahead and sees Alucard, leaning with his shoulder against the entrance to the laboratory.

“Oh, just talking to my friend here,” Trevor says. “What does it look like I'm doing, Alucard?” He’s avoided coming down here for as long as he could, but now it had become imperative he does something about this damn burn. “Apparently, one of those fuckers nicked me and since I'm rather attached to my limb, came here to do something about it.”

Alucard's face becomes alert. “Let me see.”

“It's, uh, fine,” Trevor says while the other nears him. “No need to fuss over this too, all right? You've got enough to worry about now with Sypha and I've mended myself before—”

“Let me see,” Alucard insists, now facing Trevor, who's still seated atop the long table. 

Trevor rolls his eyes but the pain has spread to his entire left arm, and it throbs, it pulses; he wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, gazing at Alucard, who patiently regards him in turn.

“Is this a staring contest?” Alucard deadpans. After another moment, he adds, “Sypha is resting. Will be, for some time yet.”

“Fine,” Trevor reaches for the fastenings of his shirt with his right hand, setting to undo them with moderate to no success.

The brush of fingers against his, warm and firm, stay his movement. The hunter stares up. His own hand drops in his lap, allowing Alucard to undo the first clasp at the base of his neck, then the next, following lower, and despite the pain something tightens inside him with each brief, clipped touch. Fucking ridiculous.

Finally done, Alucard helps him out of the fairly ruined shirt, careful with Trevor's arm and slowly taking hold of his wrist. His eyes dart to Trevor’s face when the hunter grits his teeth. He frowns, inspecting the raw wound carved into flesh.

“...What is it?”

"This needs cleaning and treatment.”

“Thought as much.”

“Come with me," Alucard instructs, releasing his wrist and turning away. He leads them to another corner of the laboratory.

“Sit.”

Trevor does so without complaint, exhausted, and does what he’s told. For all his growling and griping, Alucard is careful with these things, almost endearingly so. Soon his wound is cleaned and bandaged much better than he could ever do himself.  “Is this to be your life, now?” he asks late, worried by the deepening shades on Alucard’s drawn face.  

He receives a side-stare as the other returns utensils to their rightful place. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Making pancakes, patching us up after the heavier fights,” Trevor says. The burn has dulled significantly owed to the salve Alucard used on him. He feels a little dizzy, like his blood is sludgy and crawling through his veins. “Alucard…?”

“Easy now,” he hears, then realizes his forehead is pressed against Alucard, whose body seems to be the only thing between him and the floor. “You nearly fainted.”

“Umm… fuck's sake, sorry…” Maybe that’s why he can’t keep a coherent thought going. 

“Don’t be sorry, Trevor.” 

Right now he’s not much of anything, anymore. He wants to tell Alucard that, too, but his mouth will barely open. “Hell, Alucard… what did you give me… Don’t go… not finished…” Is he being carried somewhere? He’s likely never sounded as pitiful, but Trevor finds it nowhere within himself to care. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” comes Alucard’s voice, closer, along with a violent heartbeat thumping against Trevor’s ear. “Of that you can be certain.”

~

TBC

[kellanved-ammanas]

Demoman Ships & Pals - Medic: Memory Related

[A/N] Scout's here too but I wanted them both not to remember because the idea is that they got blackout drunk together. So someone needed to fill them in and Scout seemed like a funny option because of his motivation to wake them and tell them to go fix it.

~

“Hey morons, wake the fuck up. You got a mess to clean up.”

Medic groaned and pressed himself further into the warmth at his side. There was nothing in the world he wanted to do less than wake up right now.

That warmth proved to be Demo as he mirrored Medic’s groan. “Whatever it was, I didn’t do it.” His words were barely decipherable through his accent and tired mumbling.

“I doubt that,” Scout replied, being his usual obnoxious self and not leaving. “And you’re the one that got Medic drunk so it’s partly your fault too no matter what. Meaning you get to help clean it up. So get the fuck up already.” He prodded Medic in the back with what could only be the toe his shoe.

With a snarl, Medic shot up to glare at him. The intimidation factor of which was no doubt harmed by the fact that he and Demo had apparently fallen asleep cuddling on the floor of the medical laboratory next to the operating table. Finding his glasses on the floor beside him, Medic gave them a quick wipe down so he could get a good look around.

A not insubstantial amount of dried blood covered the floor and parts of the wall. Likely more was on the operating table itself judging based off the way it had obviously run down the legs of it. Naturally some of it had ended up on Medic, staining his once white lab coat and sticking to his bare hands and arms. It covered Demo too. All odd enough on its own but there were also various organs littered around the place, all of which looked to have been dried out for some time, making their source quite mysterious.

“What the hell happened here?” Demo asked, voicing Medic’s own question as he sat up too.

“You mean you don’t even remember?” Scout said, spreading his arms in a ‘what the fuck?’ gesture.

Careful of his pounding head and the dizziness it brought, Medic stood and extended an arm to help Demo stand too. There was indeed more mess on the table. But also, on the counter were various beakers and flasks, some of which were partially filled with mysterious chemicals. A quick step over to the fridge revealed the source of the blood; Medic’s entire stockpile of the stuff was missing. Where had the organs come from though? He didn’t keep that many random human organs on hand, especially in such poor condition.

“We were quite drunk,” he said as he looked back over at Scout. “So just tell us what happened?”

“You guys raided the Tuefort graveyard, stole all the bodies, brought them back here and then somehow made a zombie army out of them that’s now terrorizing Tuefort. And some of them spit explosive goop so I know you’re not innocent.” He pointed at Demo. “So you guys gotta get this shit cleaned up before Miss Pauling finds out and gets mad at all of us again even though you’re the only ones at fault for almost causing an apocalypse again.”

Medic exchanged a look with Demo that ended in them both chuckling. Even when black out drunk Medic was one of the single most powerful people on Earth, he was basically a god. How’d they’d done it was a mystery but that only made it all the more impressive.

“Yeah, ha ha, really funny guys. I’m over here trying to be good for once to impress Miss Pauling and all you chucklenuts keep doing stuff that pisses her off because she has to clean up after you all the time. That makes it really hard to talk to her because she’s always too busy dealing with everyone else’s messes to talk to me. And, yeah, that includes my messes too sometimes but I’m really trying to do better here but you guys keep making it hard. Oh and also, I guess like a zombie apocalypse would be bad or whatever. So you dumbasses gotta fix it.”

“Calm down, laddie,” Demo said, still chuckling a little. “We’ll fix it, don’t worry.” Knowing him, that would likely involve explosives. Which was for sure the most surefire way to fix it.

“We must be sure to capture at least one,” Medic said. “Preferably more. I need to study them.” So he could figure out how he’d done it as well as how Demo had gotten some of them to spit explosive substances without exploding themselves.

“Yeah, yeah. First, let’s get some coffee and toast though, eh?”

As eager as Medic was to get to work they did indeed need to to do something about their hangovers first. So before Scout could try to make any kind of impatient protest, he followed Demo out. Today was going to be a long day but hopefully it would ultimately be a productive one too.