#and a living room made up of furniture that ive pieced together over the years

[backfliips]

one day im gonna live in my own house with my own yard and my own decorations and my own furniture and my own kitchen and surround myself with only the people i want to be with and i’ll be able to sit on my porch and watch the sunrise and the sunset and the seasons come and go and things will be better

[hannieehaee]

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?

content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.3k (teaser); 8.2k (full fic)

release date: april 27th

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: decided to write a little surprise fic!! ive been getting into bts lately and so this was born<3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.

"Yeah."

"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.

"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."

"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."

That much was true.

You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better.

The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.

You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.

It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.

Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.

While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.

"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

"It's nothing."

"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.

Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.

"Do you ever think about dating?"

"Who? You?", he chuckled.

"No, dumbass. I mean in general."

He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.

"What's got you thinking about that?"

"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.

Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.

"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"

Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.

"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."

"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.

Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.

Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?

"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"

"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"

Oh. He was serious.

"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."

"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.

"Mingyu ..."

"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."

Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.

Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.

"Gyu, I-"

"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.

"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.

"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."

The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.

"You've thought about this?"

Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.

"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.

Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.

"Gyu, I-"

"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.

You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.

The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.

With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.

"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"

"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."

Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.

"Jungkook-"

"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.

...

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NOTE: it wont let me reply to people anymore but ill be tagging everyone who comments asking to be tagged just letting u guys know<3

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Memories IV

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, amnesia

Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.

Words: 3.6k

A/N: Hey there! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I know the fandom has been going through a tough time lately, and I just wanted to remind you to take care of yourself, especially your mental health. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. Stay strong! ❤️

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

The blood-red sun sank slowly below the horizon, casting an amber glow over the world. The sky was a tapestry of oranges and purples, fading into blue and black as night began to creep in. You stood at the entrance of your home, feeling strange tingles in your chest as you paused on the threshold. Simon was behind you, his tall frame blocking out what little light remained outside and casting a long shadow across the front hall.

“Welcome home,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

You stood there, unable to move. You felt like your limbs were made of lead and rooted to the spot. Your mind was a tempest of emotions; you were grateful to be free from the hospital walls, but deep down, terror lurked. Nervous anticipation rose inside as you feared what truth lay ahead about yourself that could shatter the delicate mirrors of your own reflection.

Simon seemed to sense your hesitation and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You alright, love?” he asked, concern in his voice.

You nodded slowly, staring into his dark eyes, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him. Simon had been by your side every step of the way, watching as you slowly pieced your life back together. He had been there for every physical therapy session, every doctor’s appointment, every setback and triumph.

He had remained a constant in your life, a source of strength and support when you needed it most.

You slowly turned to face him as Simon’s hand remained on your shoulder. You looked up at his face, illuminated by the dim light coming from the living room, and took in his sharp features. His jawline was chiselled, and his eyes were piercing, exuding a sense of confidence and ease that you found reassuring. You felt a sudden urge to lean in and kiss him, to feel his lips on yours and forget about the world outside. But instead, you stepped back and shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

“I’m okay, thank you. It’s just strange... being back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon nodded in understanding, his hand still on your shoulder, and gestured for you to follow him into the living room. You walked past him, feeling the warmth of his skin against your own, and took in your surroundings.

After months in the sterile hospital room, everything felt surreal now that you finally got to come home. The world outside looked different as if it had changed in some way while you were confined to the hospital bed. You felt a sense of trepidation as you took in the sights and sounds of the city around you. It was all so overwhelming, so unfamiliar. You didn’t know how to navigate this new world without your memories. But as you stepped inside the house, a sense of comfort washed over you. The scent of lavender furniture polish wafted from within the house, helping to ease the tension in your body.

Simon placed your bags down with a thud like an anchor being dropped from his shoulders. He seemed to sense your unease and gently steered you towards the living room. The familiar surroundings filled you with warmth and peace, and for a brief moment, everything felt just right.

The living room was bathed in soft light, its walls lined with framed photos and paintings, some of which seemed vaguely familiar. You began to explore them, feeling an odd mixture of surprise and recognition as your gaze swept across each face in turn. Some were of Simon and you together, others were friends you had no recollection of. Yet still, something about them made your heart feel warm.

As you studied the photographs, Simon watched quietly as if waiting for you to come to some realisation. But the memories remained just beyond your reach. You could almost taste the bittersweet nostalgia on your lips, yet nothing solid materialised.

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, you let your fingers brush over the frames, tracing the outlines of the people in the photographs as if trying to remember them.

You stopped at one picture, a group photo of Simon, you, and several others at what appeared to be a night of celebrations. Everyone was smiling and laughing, their faces filled with joy. You looked at each person in the photo, trying to place them in your memory, but nothing came to mind.

“Who are they?” you asked, pointing to the group in the photograph.

Simon came over to stand beside you, his arm brushing against yours. “These are your teammates— our teammates. The ones who’ve got your back in the field and in the mess. They’re family.”

You shook your head, “I don’t remember them,” you said with a hint of frustration. 

Simon placed a hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly. “It’s, uh, it’s alright, love. You’ll remember soon enough. Take your time. It’ll come to you, alright? So no need to be too anxious.”

But will I really? You wondered silently to yourself.

With a sigh, you turned away from the wall and towards Simon with an uncertain smile.

You noticed that he had changed out of his usual hoodie and was wearing a black leather jacket with a white shirt, looking more put-together than usual, as if he was trying to impress you. The tattoos on his forearm peeked out from under the sleeves of his jacket, adding to his edgy persona.

He frantically spent the day before scrubbing and scouring the house until it shone in perfect preparation for your long-awaited arrival. He felt like a nervous teenager on his first date, desperate to make a good impression. But he knew that this was different. This was about making you feel at home, helping you regain a sense of familiarity in a world that had become so foreign.

You turned to look at another photo, this time of Simon and you with a dog. The memories suddenly came flooding back, and your eyes lit up as you remembered the dog’s name.

“That’s Riley!” you exclaimed, feeling a slight sense of victory in finally remembering something.

“Riley! Here, boy!” you called.

But there was no barking, no sound of paws running across the floor. The house was eerily silent, save for the sound of your own breathing.

Simon’s expression turned grave as he looked at you, his hand still resting on your back.

“No, that, uh...Love,” Simon he said softly.” He... He passed, somethin’ like years ago.”

Your heart sank at Simon’s words, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You felt a sense of overwhelming loss, as if a part of you had died with the dog. You tried to remember the last time you had seen Riley. Still, the memory was elusive, like a dream that faded upon waking.

Simon saw the tears in your eyes and stepped forward to wrap you in a tight hug. You breathed him in, the smell of his cologne mixed with something else, something comforting like home.

You attempt to grasp at Riley’s memory, but your mind is foggy, and all you can recall is a faint trace of his affection. The anguish seizes you as you try to imagine the days spent together, playing fetch in the park and snuggling up on the couch, but all that remains are empty spots in your heart and mind. Burying your face in Simon’s chest, a harsh truth crashed down on you: You couldn’t even grieve properly because you didn’t remember the moments that connected you and Riley.

Simon’s stomach churned with guilt as he watched you suffer the same agony of Riley’s loss all over again. He had been so busy trying to make everything perfect for your return that he failed to factor in how hard it would be for you to come to terms with what had been taken away. Yet, despite the sorrow and regret, a glimmer of optimism flickered in his chest that perhaps you’d find the strength to remember even more. But for now, Simon knew you needed space and time to come to terms with everything that had happened.

As the two of you stood there in silence, lost in your thoughts, Simon’s grip on you tightened, and he pressed his lips to your forehead.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, and it calmed the storm raging inside you.

When Simon finally pulled away, he gave you a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t wanna spring that on you.”

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the loss. “It’s okay,” you said. It wasn’t.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No, not now,”

Simon nodded, his gaze softening. “Alright... listen ‘ere, love. You have been eatin’ those crappy hospital meals. You wanna get something new in your body and your system, yeah?” he said gently as his fingers brushed against yours in a comforting gesture.” I’ll cook somethin’ proper. You’re gonna love it.”

You nodded in agreement, not having the energy to argue. It had been a while since you’d had a home-cooked meal, and the hospital food left a lot to be desired. You followed Simon into the kitchen, taking in the warm, cozy space. It was small but had everything you needed, including a small dining table and chairs. The countertops were cluttered with various kitchen appliances and utensils, but everything was clean and tidy.

Simon rummaged through the fridge and pantry, his eyes scanning the shelves for something to cook.

As he gathered the ingredients for a simple pasta dish, you watched him move around the kitchen with ease. There was something about the way he moved, with such grace and purpose, that made you feel drawn to him. He was like a force of nature, unstoppable and relentless in his pursuit of whatever he wanted.

You noticed how his muscles rippled beneath his shirt as he chopped vegetables, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of attraction in your chest. You almost felt guilty for feeling this way about a man you didn’t remember. You knew you two were engaged, but it felt strange to be drawn to someone you had no recollection of. Being with Simon felt familiar, like coming home even though you couldn’t remember why. It was as if your body recognised him before your mind did.

The hospital breakdown was a pivotal moment in your relationship, and it seemed you two had struck a deal.

And yet, even though your memory didn’t seem any clearer, there was still a sense that your outlook had changed.

You seemed more vulnerable, more reliant on him for comfort and guidance. The barriers and walls you used to keep him away with were crumbling, and the two of you were starting to form a real connection.

This is progress, Simon told himself, hopefully. This is an improvement.

Simon felt both terrified and excited by this newfound closeness. He was scared to get too close too soon, scared of the pain of rejection if your memory did return and you chose not to stay with him. But at the same time, he could feel himself falling even deeper in love with every passing moment.

He wanted to give you some space, but his heart ached for yours.

You wished there was some way to go back in time and remember who you used to be together—but there just wasn’t. You didn’t know how to be the person Simon remembered, and that scared you. You wanted more than anything to make him happy, but it felt like no matter what you did or said, it wouldn’t be enough for him.

After dinner, he showed you the bedroom. The room was simple but elegant, with a queen-sized bed in the centre and a large window overlooking the backyard. The walls were painted a soft blue, and the bedding was white and fluffy, inviting you to sink in and drift off to sleep.

“I...I don’t want to take your bed.”

Simon smiled warmly at you. “It’s our bed, alright?” he said, his hand reaching out to take yours. “I ain’t gonna fight you over who needs to sleep where. I have a couch; lemme sleep on it.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said, looking up at him with a small smile. “Are you sure you don’t mind sleeping on the couch?”

Simon shook his head, his hand still holding yours. “Look, love. We’re both tired here. I want to take care of ya and make sure you’re comfortable. So, you don’t gotta fight, and I ain’t gonna be arguing, or I’m gonna have to tie you down, and force a sleep mask over your eyes, yeah?”

“Okay, Okay,” you laughed. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Simon leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Alright, you rest up. I’ll see ya in the morning,” he said before turning to leave the room. 

You watched him go, feeling a sense of longing wash over you. You wished you could remember what it was like to be with him, to feel his touch and his love.

Laying in bed, the day’s events replayed in your mind like a movie reel. The memory of Riley’s passing still weighed heavily on your heart. Still, there was something else tugging at the edges of your consciousness. It was like watching a horror movie with the sound turned down low; you could sense fear and trepidation from the dimly lit scenes playing out before you, but you couldn’t make out any details.

Your heart raced as you tried to piece together the fragments of this unknown memory, but it slipped away as quickly as it came, leaving you even more frightened than before.

You tried to sleep, but deep in your chest, you felt the beginnings of fear build. You turned over and over again in bed, growing more agitated by the minute. The shadows on the wall from the lamp beside it stretched out like malevolent spirits that wanted nothing more than for you to be afraid. Nothing to see here, they would say as they writhed and clawed at you with their formless hands, almost touching you before receding back into the darkness. Your feet move slowly through the darkness. The floor is cold under your feet as you step lightly through this unfamiliar place that once was your house.

“Damn it,” you said, the fear in your voice palpable in the silent room. You reached for the lamp on the bedside table, flicking it on and flooding the room with light. The shadows scattered, leaving nothing but the familiar sight of the bedroom. You took deep breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.

It was just a nightmare, you told yourself. It’s just a silly, irrational fear.

But deep down, you knew it was more than that. Something was lurking in your subconscious that you couldn’t quite grasp but knew was there. Something that made your skin crawl and your heart race.

You got out of bed, your feet hitting the cool hardwood floor.

Your feet move slowly through the darkness, the floor creaking beneath your weight. You move towards the door, your hand reaching out to grasp the doorknob. As you turn it, the door swings open with a low groan, revealing the dark hallway beyond.

Your heart thunders as you take the first step into the hallway. The darkness seems to encroach on you, swallowing up the light from the bedroom. You take another step forward, your eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. You could hear the light snoring coming from Simon on the couch, but it didn’t bring you any comfort.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something lurking in the darkness waiting for you.

The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the darkness consuming everything in its path. You felt like you were walking through a nightmare, one that you couldn’t escape from. You tried to call out for Simon, but your voice was hoarse and barely audible.

Suddenly, you heard a sound from down the hallway. It was faint, but it was there. A soft whisper, calling out your name.

Your heart leapt into your throat. You couldn’t see anything, but you could feel a presence in the darkness. You could feel its breath on your neck, its fingers brushing against your skin.

You turned around and ran towards the couch where Simon was sleeping when you saw a figure emerge from the shadows. It was a woman, her face twisted in a grotesque grin.

You could feel your feet sinking into the ground as if the floor was swallowing you whole.

You tried to scream, but the darkness choked your voice. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were sure it would burst out of your ribcage. And then, suddenly, the darkness lifted, like a veil being lifted from your eyes.

Just a dream, a nightmare that left you gasping for breath as you sat in bed. Your heart still raced, and your skin was slick with sweat.

You looked around the room, relieved to see that it was just a dream. But the feeling of terror lingered, its tendrils wrapping around your heart and refusing to let go.

You slid out of the bed, your bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. The air was thick with a sense of dread, and you needed to shake it off.

You moved quietly to the living room, past the vase of flowers on the table, their petals soft and pliable beneath your fingers.

Simon lay asleep on the couch near the window, bathed in moonlight that filtered through the blinds. You approached him, hovering over his still form like a guardian angel. The outline of his face was sharp yet softened by shadows; you could see the rise and fall of his chest under the comforter he had kicked off while sleeping. As you considered waking him, his eyes fluttered open.

“you good?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep and concern.

You jumped, startled by his sudden awakening.

“Oh, I’m... nothing,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I just couldn’t sleep and wanted to come out here for a bit.”

Simon frowned, his eyes dark with concern.

“C’mere,” he said, lifting the edge of the comforter. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea, but the weight of loneliness was too much to bear. As you nestled closer, his arms wound around you, and the press of his chest at your back reassured you that everything would be alright. His breath on the nape of your neck mingled with the scent of lavender fabric softener, and his heartbeat against your spine slowed to match your own. His touch calmed your racing mind until all that remained were the gentle brushstrokes of his fingertips along your arm.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle in the darkened room.

You hesitated, not wanting to burden him with your fears, but then decided to tell him. “I had a nightmare,” you said softly, feeling embarrassed.

“You want to-?”

“No,” you stopped him. You didn’t want to talk about it, not wanting to relive the terror of the nightmare.

He didn’t push it. “Okay... If you have that nightmare again, I’ll kick that thing’s arse, I will. Now, close your eyes. You need your sleep, darlin’.” his voice was low and soothing.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his protectiveness and felt a sense of security as he pulled you closer to him.

“Sweet dreams, okay? And close those eyes of yours, dear,” he murmured, kissing your head.

You smiled, and soon, with the warmth of his body next to yours, you fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of a shushed argument coming from the front door. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and sat up, groggy and disoriented.

You got up from the couch and walked towards the front door, your bare feet padding against the hardwood floor. As you got closer, you could hear the muffled voices growing louder.

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should interfere, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open, and sunlight streamed through the opening, flooding the dark living room.

“Go away. Now.” Simon said, his voice ringing with anger, “I swear to bloody god, I’ll break your fakin’ nose.”

He was a silhouette in the murky morning light, feet planted firmly as he stood before an unfamiliar figure. His shoulders were tense, and a single bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. His face was concealed by the usual black balaclava that melded seamlessly into his dark clothing.

The other man seemed taken aback by Simon’s outburst. Still, he quickly regained his composure and stepped forward, revealing himself in the dim light.

“C’mon, I just want to see ‘er”.

The Scottish lilt pierced through the thick silence like a knife, sending a shiver down your spine.

Like an electric shock, you felt a sudden jolt of energy as images of the past suddenly emerged from the fog of amnesia. Images, sounds, and conversations flooded your mind as fragments of memories all clicked into place, and you remembered him.

“Soap?”

Tags: @8sy-errah8 @yyiikes @spencerreidisbae123 @oranoyaora @sae1kie @originaldeerhottub @cr4shposts @caramlizedtomatoes  @ilovehyperfixating @ghostlythots  @dotcie

[fandomsnstuff]

Angus figures everything out and fucks up Lucretia’s whole Thing AU

Lucretia hires angus, innoculates him, and is like this is the deal with those missing people cases you were investigating

Angus says oh okay! This totally and completely satiases my curiosity :)

Internally angus says this is sus as hell

So he does what he does best, he snoops

So angus is snooping and somehow, cause he's a little crime boy who can sneak around real good, he finds the starblaster

He's like what the fuck is this

He gets in, and it's.....odd. he doesnt linger in any one room too long, he just kind of pokes his head into the bedrooms and moves on (he figures he shouldnt stay here too long, lest he get caught)

But the most peculiar thing is how lived in this place looks. There's mismatched furniture with throw pillows and blankets in the common area, a chore chart on the fridge, the bedrooms are all cluttered with knick knacks and clothes, beds unmade, theres a lab with papers scattered around tables and taped to the wall

But one room catches his attention

It's... fairly simple, and emptier than the others. Bookshelf with some books missing, a bare desk, but what catches his attention is the pile of red on the bed

He goes to investigate and finds robes and jackets, all with an odd patch and names embroidered on them

He finds, in this order:

A robe with "lucretia" embroidered on it

A jacket and robe, together as if someone had been wearing them at the same time, with "lup" and "taako"

A jacket with "davenport"

A robe with "merle"

A jacket with "magnus"

(there’s no barry robe cause he fell off the ship with it, these are the robes/jackets lucretia took off of the crew members as she sent them off to their new lives)

Now. This is after crystal kingdom and angus was at the candlenights party. He knows the director's name is lucretia

He knows who Davenport is

He knows who taako, magnus, and merle are

This is pre-LUP incident, so he doesnt know who lup is

Angus, appropriately freaked out, puts them all back and BOLTS

Angus vacates the premises

Runs back to his room

He tries to figure out what this all means, but his thoughts dodge around the obvious conclusion that's right in front of him

Hes too nervous to go back, it's not until the L U P incident that he decides okay. I have to go back

So he goes back. He goes into the room labeled Captain's Quarters (although "captain" has been scratched out and changed to "cap'nport". Angus doesnt think too hard about what that means)

In the desk he finds some folders with the same weird logo as the robes and jackets. He doesnt look in them. Not yet. He can do that back in his room. He cant spend too much time here.

Then he goes to the lab. He doesnt know what hes looking for, but he grabs ones that seem important. A notebook or two. Some papers clipped together. He just grabs and shoves them into his bag and he fuckin bolts again

he looks at what he grabbed and some of it he can read, some of it he can't

They lived in that ship. They were going on a mission for something. They made the grand relics to stop something. Theres a lot of notes on the planes.

Angus recognizes the way some stuff is redacted, and he kind of figures out that there must be another voidfish. And if the directors name was on one of those robes, maybe she has it.

Refuge mission comes and goes

Angus, cause he's so fucking good, is able to sneak back into lucretias personal quarters and finds junior. He fills a water bottle with the ichor and gets the fuck outta there

He gets back to his room, innoculates himself and is like AAAAAAAAAA

Cause he can finally put it all together properly

And he basically pieces together the whole hunger situation himself with the notes he grabbed

The stuff he grabbed from davenports room was the crew's like profiles or whatever from when they got hired on to the mission so angus now knows who lup is

So angus is like oh i GOTTA fix this

So he heads down to the reclaimers dorm with his bottle of ichor

Angus: i need you to drink this Merle: what is it? Angus: voidfish ichor Taako: *laughs* hate to break it to you kid, we already drank the voidfish juice. Angus: just- please? Magnus: yeah alright

So magnus drinks it. His breath catches and he kinda goes weak and he's shaking and he drops to his knees. After a minute or two (or more) he looks up at angus. "Holy shit," he says. He grabs the bottle from where he dropped it and holds it out to taako and merle. "Drink it." He says.

"Yeah alright," merle says. Same deal as with magnus.

Once merle collects himself, they both turn to taako.

"Yeah, alright. Sure. Let's get taako in on this weird party," he says, taking the bottle and drinking

This time, magnus is ready and he catches taako when his knees give out

"Im gonna fucking kill her," taako mumbles into magnus' shoulder, his knuckles white as he grips his shirt.

"You're not gonna kill her."

"Im gonna fucking hit her so HARD, i swear to god."

Taako keeps his face in magnus' shoulder, but magnus and merle watch as angus crosses the room to where taako had left the umbrastaff, and he walks back over to magnus and taako on the floor

"Sir?" Taako looks up at angus. Angus holds the umbrella out, "i think i know where your sister is."

(Lup, meanwhile, in the staff: HEEEEELLLLL YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH)

It takes taako a second, but he realizes what angus is saying and scrambles out of magnus' hold and to his feet. He takes the umbrella and lifts it, about to snap it when angus says, "wait!"

Taako glares at him. "Ive waited ten years, kid. Make it snappy." "Madame director had a holy symbol in her office. I think it would ward against your sister, if shes a lich." "Uuugggggghhhhhhhhh LUCRETIAAAAAA"

The four of them go down planetside under the guise of a magic lesson and not wanting to burn any more "cryptic messages" into the walls

Taako snaps that fuckin umbrella as soon as his feet hit solid ground

Lup's back!

Lup does some magic shit to summon barry, so barold shows up, happy reunion, and then a Discussion on what to do re: davenport not being innoculated and re: lucretia

Their plan boils down to this: thb and angus will go back to the moon and act as if this never happened. As far as lucretia knows, thb are still under junior's influence

As soon as they can get davenport alone without rousing any suspicion, they bring him to their room and innoculate him. Once he's got his memories back, he'll be powerful enough to a) get his bracer off/disable the tracking spell in it and b) get off the base undetected

Davenport will definitely not want to go back to playing butler, so he'll sneak off the base and hang out with lup and barry until lucretia sends the boys to wonderland

When the boys get sent to wonderland, theyll meet up, get the bell all together, and THEN confront lucretia, cause at that point theyll have the whole light, and they'll have Options

So they do just that. They go back and innoculate davenport a few days later, a week at most

A panic ensues once everyone realizes davenport is missing

AND the tracking in his bracer is turning up nothing

Lucretia's blood pressure has never been higher

But everything goes as business per usual

Lucretia, oddly enough, suspects nothing re: the boys ‘cause surely they wouldve confronted her if they remembered

The boys get sent down to wonderland. They meet up with blupjeans and dav at the entrance. With the six of them with all their memories and full access to their skills they take edward and lydia down in like 30 minutes. Tops.

So edward and lydia get their asses thoroughly handed to them by the six of them

(Davenport has the time of his LIFE)

They head back to the lich cave, barry gets in his new body and gets innoculated (the boys brought some ichor with them for him)

Lup possesses barry, then barry-with-lup and dav get in the pocket spa and back up to the moon they go

Lucretia is in her office when avi comes knocking "Uh... director? The boys are coming back." "Already?" "Yeah." "Are you sure it's them?" "Yep."

Lucretia is.... stunned. It's been... an hour and a half. Two, maybe. She has full faith in the boys but they took down wonderland in two hours?????

Not even two hours

She goes to meet them, highly suspicious

But they arrive and, sure enough, it's them. No magic. No tricks. It's them, for sure.

taako has the bell and hes just holding it casually from the top as if it isnt one of the most powerful magic items in existence. And she can tell he isnt thralled, that's just how hes decided to transport it.

Lucretia: ive got to admit, you boys took care of that...much faster than i expected Magnus: ah, it was no big Merle: piece of cake! Taako: yeah, luce, shit was easy. Dunno what you were talkin' about earlier.

And lucretia just freezes. Luce. Thats what taako called her. It’s what they all called her, really, but it’s the nickname Taako took 4 whole cycles to give to her, officially cracking the door of friendship open to her. And she looks him in the eyes and she knows that he knows. And she looks at merle and magnus and she can tell they know, too.

And taako gives her a venomous smile, all teeth, and says, "why dont we go have a little chat, madame director" and she flinches at the way he spits out her title

She doesnt know what to do but nod and turn to leave. As she turns, there's angus, looking up at her with a determined set to his brow, and she knows he knows too

They head back to her office, and taako pulls the pocket spa out, and before lucretia can ask him what hes doing, out walks barry and davenport. And barrys eyes have got that red glow about them, so she knows lup's here too.

"Take down the lich ward, lucretia," barry says.

She does, and now there's a firey, red robed lich among them.

Now this is where things get a little iffy for how they work out but here's what i got

They have a similar confrontation as canon where theyre bickering about staying or going, shield or no shield, and im thinking this is where taako has his "there's a third option" realization

And, because they did extreme wonderland speedrun, and they didnt take a whole extra day to travel to the lich cave and just used fuckin magic to get there, theyre a whole day ahead of where they were in canon

The hunger is close enough at this point tho that they can enact the plan like. Now.

But magnus insists on returning Fisher's baby to them first

As magnus takes junior, lucretia works on getting the base secured and getting the bureau members ready for if the hunger touches down before they can cut it off

Magnus goes down to fisher with the baby, he takes his axe and swings, breaking the tank open

Johann, still alive and now soaking wet, is like dude wtf

Magnus returns the baby and out goes the story and song

Now johann is REALLY like DUDE WTF

Magnus is like im off to save the universe. Peace.

So since theyre a whole day ahead of the hunger, all seven of them go up in the ship

And then they fight and they win and they cut the hunger off and it's rad

The end

[irregulardiaryposts]

23:28 11/05/2021

sooooo uhhhhh,, its chewsday innit.i have no idea what my life is anymore. like what do i even do?? i have no idea how i would describe myself to someone else and thats sort scary yk. like how am i supposed to like myself if i dont know who i am? n e way enough existentialismmmmmm ice gotten more unconditional uni offers which im dead proud of like who wouldve thought I wouldve been able to do this. if only i couldve seen myself like 4 years ago i would be shocked. i mean most of it would make sense but like i didnt even think id live this long tbh. i dont think about that enough the fact i couldnt see myself getting older and doing 'grown uo things' because i thought i would never get through the present. that sounds real sad wow. 

lets talk about something else, perhaps how i believe myself to be far too impulsive for my own good and never thinking anything through twice. like ive just tried to revamp my whole room coz i was unhappy with it. i tried to chalk it up to just wanting a better desk and suddenly ive thrown away half my furniture and my room looks empty affff. but its ok since it already looks kinda better everything's cleaner now too. 

i went into my backgarden today and i picked all the uhhh my laptop almost died on me there i realised my things at full brightness anyway yes i went and picked the uh dandelions? the yellow chucky ones and some daisies and i made some flower chains and stuff and hung them in my room even though theyre gonna die idrc becuase they still look kinda cute, i keep patching my uni prep class becuase icba going but i still need to set up student loans and shit and actually confirm my choice for uni too omfg so much work and also need to start teaching msyelf the theory sruff for my driving thingytghing 

i was just looking back at another post before i started typing this and i was talking about how i dont really espress myself all too well through my apppearance and things i can personalise to me and i feel like ive gotten a lot better at that coz i recently chucked away a lot of clothes i dont wear and my mum bought me new stuff and im dead chuffed coz im far more confident in them and theyre far more comfy too :) ive also stopped wearing bras with wires and padding in them coz fuck all that shit i no longer care if people see my nipples becuase its not worth the actual pain from and improperly fitting bra which all of them are on me ............................................  

ive been listening to some NEW music lately just from my discover weekly stuff and its been pretty fuckign spot on with the shit i wanna listen to but i wish itd let me save each week as like a diff playlist but ive just been adding my favs to my other playlists feel like ive been piecing myself together bit by bit after not having the right pieces for years. 

anyway future me or whoever listen to 'them changes' by thunder someone or other because i think im a little bit obssesed atm hehehehehhehehehesjnjndkb LJBSCLVJBs jbs c' CKJBDKjkbckj  sh. i feel a bit like a fraud tho ngl like as tho im waiting for the other shoe to drop and find out im actaully lying about being a functioning human being for longer than like 5 days in the past 3/4 years. did that make sense idk im justsaying i feel a bit fake and that next time i feel a bit d y s f u n c t i o n a l its gonna hit really fucking hard and its gonna take a lot to get over it idk maybe im just being pessimistic or smth have a tendency to do that. 

also ive completely given up with school i have less than a month left and i cannot be fucked doing any more work than is necessary to pass ie only doing the test things and pretending to know what im doing in class no studying no homework none of that bs i would rather break my toes ..  

ive wrote like 3800 characters thats like maybe 800 words isssshhh idk man considering ive wrote w shit like wbsihizjbk ziSJNlcjb alknfbv ajn jankbdv. you know , . i dont really know what im rambing about anymore nothing has realliy progressed that much do idk what to say ill come back maybe when im at uni :O beye

[kumeko]

Title: some walls need to be torn down

A/N: For the @superbatexchange! Unfortunately, my giftee dropped out, but I had already finished my piece so this is now for the community in general. 😊 Hope you enjoy!

Summary:  Bruce had never been good at letting down his walls, at letting others in. Even for Clark. Especially for Clark.

…

…

…

…

i.

“How’s Friday?” Clark asked, flipping through his planner. Red circles, scribbled in appointments, and stickers decorate every month. His finger tapped on one of the few empty dates. “I’m technically on assignment, but I can always hop back for the night.”

 “How old school of you.” Bruce pinched the planner between his fingers, dangling it in front of him. “You have a phone.”

 “It’s easier when I can write it out.” Frowning, Clark swiped the planner back. He smoothened the page, clearing any wrinkles. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much good; there was a permanent crease where Bruce had gripped it too hard. “Damn. You’re lucky the year’s almost over.”

 “Or what?” Bruce asked dryly, taking a sip from his coffee. He never understood Clark’s preferences for diners, but at least this one had a decent coffee. Leaning back on his seat, he observed the restaurant from their booth. The breakfast crowd was here, a strange mix of truckers and businessmen hurrying to work.

 And of course, one journalist, who was still pouting over his agenda. Clark sighed mournfully. “Maybe I should tell Dick to pick on you.” He glared at Bruce grumpily, tapping on the Friday insistently with his pen. “So. Friday?”

Obliging, Bruce pulled out his phone and checked his own schedule. Friday, Friday, Friday—he had a single meeting in the morning, and the rest of the afternoon was clear. Thank goodness for Lucius Fox, he really knew how to minimize his “CEO and Playboy Bruce” appearances. “I should be fine.”

 “Great.” Clark beamed, pure sunshine. “It’s a date.”

    ii.

 There was a familiar prick on his back, the sense that someone was watching him, and Batman pulled out his batarang. Tense, he crouched slightly. It couldn’t be another thug—he had cleared out most of Black Mask’s men from the warehouse. Whatever ones he hadn’t caught would be running away. Then who—

 A cape swished behind him and he relaxed. Of course. Superman. Standing straight, Batman turned around. His own cape curled around his legs and he crossed his arms. “Superman.”

 There was no responding smile, no exasperated sigh, and the hair on his neck stood up. Superman scanned the surroundings as he slowly floated down. His lips were a flat line, his tone distant. “I caught the runaways.”

 “Then that clears up everything.” Feeling uneasy, Batman dropped his arms to his side and took a step forward. In the dark, it was hard to see Superman’s face, to see the ridges and planes he knew intimately. “Are you angry?”

 Superman’s feet touched the ground with a quiet thud. Stiffly, he bit out. “Yes.”

 It’d been a while since he’d seen him this angry, even longer since it’d been directed at him. “I couldn’t ignore—”

 “I’m not asking you to ignore criminals or the bat signal or whatever case you’re on,” Superman growled, his jaw tight. “That’s what we do. But this isn’t the first time you’ve blown me off. Or the second or the third—you do this more often than we actually go on a date.”

 Even though he knew Superman wouldn’t talk like this if there was anyone around, he instinctively checked their surroundings for any interlopers. Coolly, he answered, “It was a time sensitive matter.”

 “They’re all time-sensitive matters. It always is,” Superman bit out bitterly, shaking his head. “But we’re not alone. Nightwing, Robin, Oracle, Batgirl—any of them could step in for a single night. They do it already for each other.”

He looked away, unable to refute the point. Feebly, he argued, “I had to handle this myself.”

 “We can’t keep doing this,” Superman said, his voice oddly soft. He started to float again, slowly rising up to the hole he’d made in the warehouse ceiling. The moonlight hit his face and all Batman could see was the weariness on his face. “Even after all this time, you still won’t let me in. And I…I don’t know how much longer I can wait.”

    iii.

 That was not his ceiling. No, that wasn’t completely accurate. To be precise, it was more that something felt off about his ceiling. Like there was an extra dent in it or the paint was more chipped than it should have been. Even his bed felt strange, too soft to be his. Lying still on the bed, Bruce kept his breathing steady, listening for any intruders. There were no strange sounds or, even more worrying, the usual ones. By this point of day, Alfred would have had breakfast ready.

 Quietly, he slipped off his bed, his feet landing on a layer of dust. Bruce stared at the hardwood floor, then at the tables and dressers around him. Everything was covered in a thick grey and he had a sinking feeling this wasn’t a prank by Dick or Stephanie. No, something was wrong here.

 Without a second thought, he crept out of his bedroom. At the very least, his batcave should still be untouched and maybe he could find out something more there. The rest of the mansion was coated in dust, looking unused, and Bruce fought the urge to shiver. It looked abandoned. Forgotten. Even the old grandfather clock looked like it had seen better days. His fingers were sticky as he typed in the usual password and suddenly, a shrill alarm rang.

 Immediately, he took a step backward, his body crouching as he scanned his living room. No one swooped out of the shadows, running to see who had broken in. He’d have to find a place to hide, to observe—

 Glass twinkled behind him as a large object burst through the bay windows. Turning around, Bruce shielded his eyes as he took in the attack, a bright red and blue blur that hurtled at him. Wait, red and blue? He knew that colour, knew that ‘S’. “Clark?”

 “Bruce?” Superman halted in front of him, his eyes wide in surprise. “You…you’re alive?”

 Alive? Well, he had been right then. That wasn’t his ceiling.

    iv.

 “Here, have a cup of tea. You still like two milks, right?” Clark smiled awkwardly, setting down a fragile teacup on the coaster in front of Bruce. Dressed in overalls in his family farmhouse, Clark looked more like a farmer getting ready to milk a cow than a reporter chasing a news story. Then again, maybe that was the case here. The only thing to indicate that he wasn’t purely a country boy was the gold necklace that disappeared under his collar.

 “Yes.” It seemed that at least he shared the same tastes as this world’s Bruce. Scanning the room, Bruce noted pictures of Ma and Pa Kent, of Conner and Kara Zor-el. It seemed this world wasn’t too different then. Except of course, one notable exception. “I take it I’m dead?”

 “Uh…” Clark rubbed the back of his neck. His lanky frame was too big for the couch, his knees bent uncomfortably. The furniture here hadn’t changed at all from the last time Bruce had visited the Kents. “Yes.” He paused. “Sorry.”

 “It’s not your fault, is it?” Bruce asked, picking up the tea. He had always known he’d die from his duties. It didn’t make it easier to hear, even if it was just in a different universe. “You don’t need to apologize.”

 “Yes but…” Clark frowned, running a hand through his shaggy hair. Now that Bruce was looking at it, it was peppered with white and grey hairs, a Clark that was much older than his. A Clark he might never get to see ordinarily. They’d never really confirmed if he’d age normally, if he’d live forever. “I’m sorry all the same.”

 “Always with the saviour complex.”

 Clark blinked, before breaking into a hearty guffaw. Not remember restraint (as usual), he wrapped an arm around Bruce’s back, squeezing him tight. “And you’re still a prissy cat.”

    v.

 “Luckily for you, the league’s still active.” Puffing his chest proudly, he pointed at one of the more recent photos, showing him with grown-up Conner and Kara. Their costumes had changed, Kara’s more battle-oriented, Conner’s less casual, and they were all grinning as they stood in front of the Justice Hall. A newly rebuilt Justice Hall. “We’ll find out soon enough if it was magic or science that brought you here. Or something else entirely—I feel like we keep finding things that go beyond everything we know. Guess it’s one of nature’s miracles.”

 Bruce didn’t want to think about how many times they must have built, destroyed, and rebuilt that place. The iterations of the league’s hall. “The new generation took over?”

 “Yeah. Especially some of the kids from the Justice Society. Us old-timers are taking over what Jay and Alan started there.” Clark smiled fondly as he held up a photo of him surrounded by a gaggle of masked teens. Some were easy to pick out—Liam Harper, Wally’s kids—others less so.

 And with the bittersweet tinge in Clark’s expression, Bruce knew better than to ask what had happened to Jay and Alan. “So even you retired?”

 “Even I retired,” Clark chuckled. “Though I can’t help myself if something happens nearby.”

 “No, that’s you.” Bruce scanned the other photos, the changes in his companions. Older Hal. A kingly Arthur. Diana, still going strong. And more, beyond that, and there was something reassuring about the idea that even after he was gone, the work still continued. To find a picture of Cassandra as Batman, of Dick and Damian still patrolling together, of Stephanie refusing to give up her purple abomination.

 A picture of him and Clark, sitting awkwardly next to one another. Clark grinning brightly in the camera as he snapped the selfie, this world’s Bruce trying not to smile and failing miserably at it. Another, of Bruce with a pair of champagne glasses. More and more lined the wall, it was impossible not to see them now that he’d noticed the first one. They almost seemed to glow, dragging his eyes from one to the next. A first year anniversary. A surprise dinner. A relationship that was much further than anything Bruce had at home.

 The pictures suddenly stopped and he stared at the last one, of them sitting by a river, watching the sunset. Did he die after that? Involuntarily, Bruce asked, “What happened?”

 “To what?” Clark approached him from beyond and Bruce could hear as his breathing shallowed, as his breath hitched.

 “Us,” Bruce answered bluntly, the only way he knew how.

 “Oh.” Clark stepped back, sitting down on the couch once more. He interlaced his hands, resting his chin on his knuckles. “No wonder you felt so familiar.” He smiled sadly as he looked up at Bruce. “You’re also in love.”

 “I wouldn’t use that word,” Bruce corrected reflexively.

 “You don’t have to be so defensive.” Clark lowered his eyes. His foot scuffed the floor. “You’re only hurting your Clark, you know.”

 “Like I hurt you?”

 “No, like my Bruce hurt me.” Clark closed his eyes, curling into himself even more. Again, Bruce couldn’t see his face. Again, Bruce wished he could make out his expression. “Like I hurt him. He couldn’t open up and I was tired of trying and…and then he died, before anything happened. Before anything could happen. No apologies, no understanding, just nothing.”

 Bruce stepped closer, his hand hovering over Clark’s back. “I’m sorry.”

 “Me too.” Sitting up straight, Clark pulled out the chain around his neck. On the other end was a plain silver band. “I was going to propose, you know. Thought I’d finally surprise him for once. I wonder what he would have looked like.”

 There was really only one answer to that. He squeezed Clark’s shoulder. “Happy.”

    vi.

 A woman stood in front of him, her hair black as night, and Bruce could have sworn it was Zatanna. Except, it was her granddaughter, and there was something both happy and sad about that knowledge. Catching his stare, she clicked her tongue and rapped his head. “Close your eyes. It’s bad enough you’ve seen what you have, can’t have you finding out more.”

 “Your grandfather, was he—”

 “No guesses either!” The woman growled.

 Clark chuckled. “He’s probably right. He always is.”

 “Yeah, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.” The woman snorted indignantly. “Alternate world or not, we’re similar enough that we could be his future. And it’s dangerous to know the future.” She rested her palms on the side of his head. “Sometimes you can make it happen.”

 Knowledge could prevent terrible futures, Bruce wanted to point out, but the magic in her hands washed over him, lulling him to sleep. He drowned in drowsiness, his eyes getting heavier and heavier, and the last thing he saw was Clark, was his wedding band on his finger. The silver glinted once, twice, and then all he saw was pitch black.

    vii.

 This was his ceiling. Bruce stared at the pock-marked ceiling, the burn mark from one of Damian’s surprise training sessions. His bed was the right level of firmness. There was no dust anywhere in the room and through the vents he could hear Alfred humming, the scent of coffee wafting in the air.

  He was back. Immediately, he rolled over and picked up his cell, tapping the third speed-dial number. All Bruce would see was that Clark’s sad smile, the apology that lingered in the air unspoken.

 And maybe that was their world’s future and maybe it was just a similar alternate world, but either way, he couldn’t let that happen here. Now.

 “Clark? We need to talk.”

[kaylathekittykat225]

Replacement // Roy Harper X Reader

Warning/s: none, I think?

Word Count: 3,247

Another Saturday, another update. This time, another one from my archives, Roy Harper! I don’t know what I will do when I run out of things I can easily post. But that is a problem for later me that I can deal with. Am still in a fluffy mood, because I am currently sick, and I when I am sick, I get clingy and want someone to hug and to hug me and yeah. All I got right now is my blanket, so we will just have to deal.

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

"How am I supposed to face him? I've been living his life for eight years now. What if he tries to kill me?" Roy let his mouth run, asking rhetorical question after question while you drove him to the hospital.

"What if Ollie wants him back? What if he wants to go back to Ollie? What if Ollie makes me-"

"Roy," you gently laid your hand on his leg, capturing his attention and his focus went to you. "Why are you so nervous about this? You've spent the last five years trying to find him and now you sound like you're about to meet the president." Your eyes flickered over to him, making sure to pay most of your attention to the road ahead of you.

He sighed and slouched down into his seat, "I just don't know what he'll think of me." His words lost in the wind blowing through the rolled down window, the hospital coming into view.

"If he's even half the Roy he was, in sure he'll get over it." You smiled over at him as you pulled into a parking space, hoping to yourself that this will all work out fine.

The two of you walked into the entrance of the hospital and saw an anxious and pacing Ollie waiting for the two of you. He spotted you two as you entered and briskly made his way over to you. "Roy, Y/N, thank goodness you're here."

"Hey dad." You smiled up at him, pulling him into what felt like a much-needed hug. "It's good to see you."

"I am too, Y/N I just wish it was under different circumstances. Mom says hi." You sighed, happy to smell his cologne again, not having seen him since New Year's.

"Tell her I say hi back." You pulled away from the hug, your dad turning to say hello to Roy. "Is he awake?" You pursed your lips, watching both your father and Roy shuffle from side to side.

"Yeah, he's this way." You two followed your dad down the corridor, Roy's hands were tightly holding onto one another before you slipped your hand between them, taking his clammy hand into yours.

"It's gonna be fine, babe," you whispered quietly before entering the room you assumed to be Roy Harper's...the other one.

Ollie opened the door for the two of you and you all walked into the room. The view out the window gave a perfect overlook of Star City, a view you've seen your entire life, from looking out your bedroom window to running across the roof tops of the City's skyscrapers. 

In the middle of the white hospital room, pulled against one of the stable walls was a bed and the millions of cords leading to a heart monitor, IV lines and a lot more, hooking up to a lot of beeping.

And laying on that bed was none other than an exact copy of the nervous man beside you.

Only he was younger.

And his arm was also missing.

"I told you I'm-Ollie?" His blue eyes widened to the size of saucers, but they weren't the eyes you knew.

They were different than what they use to look like. Colder, more shut off, scared.

"Hey Roy, how are you feeling?" Your father asked as he took one of the seats near the bed.

"I wish everyone would stop asking me that," he grumbled to himself, his thumb twiddling with the air, possibly dancing with an imaginary partner, his eyes darted around the room and never looking directly at his former mentor.

You swallowed the heavy feeling in your throats and turned to look at Roy, your Roy, the one you'd fallen in love with when he tripped over a statue of your grandmother when he tried to ask you out in a date. His eyes were alive and warm, and staring directly at the icy blue ones of the original Roy.

Oi all these Roys are giving you a headache.

Squeezing his hand gently, his attention was drawn to you, returning the pressure into your hand. "Now or never," he mouthed to you before he stepped out from behind your father, just enough to keep you hidden still behind his built figure.

"Oh, you're...you're the one who got me back didn't you?" He avoided the word rescue, still the same Roy you knew, never wanting to admit needing help, his eyes also avoiding his doppelgänger standing in front of him. "Th-thanks I guess."

You sighed from behind your dad's back, much louder than you intended, bringing Roy's eyes to look in your direction, "What, is there another one of me to show me?" Oliver's body shifted in front of you so he can look down at you, looking for an answer from you. 

You nodded your head and stepped out from behind his back, keeping Roy's hand in your own, you sucked your lip in between your teeth as you slowly looked up to see the other Roy staring at you in shock. "Y-Y/N?"

"Hey, Roy." You smiled sadly at him. His eyes absorbed as much of you as he can, running them up and down your body, stopping when he saw you and his clone were clasping hands. He scoffs and turns away, trying to cross his arms for only to be reminded that it was gone. 

"Great, so while I was on ice, you found another Roy Harper, the sidekicks formed their own team, aliens invaded the earth, and Ollie grew that dopey goatee?" You bit back a giggle, instead coming out as a snigger when you looked over to see your father's reaction. 

But hearing the word sidekick plucked an old string for both you and Roy, your Roy. "We try not to call ourselves sidekicks." You shifted your weight around, feeling out of place while your father argued for the dignity of his goatee. 

Grabbing for a familiar looking folder, you pulled up the medical charts to see what the doctors thought of the returned super. You flipped through the pages, easily able to understand everything from your years of practice of being on the medical team in Mount Justice and understood that he really was on ice. He hadn't aged a day since you last saw him, but he legally should be twenty-three by now, everything about him was the same as Roy, how could they be different, they were exact clones. 

"And what happened to my arm?! And now my clone goes and steals Y/N?!" Your breath got caught in your throat, honestly you felt so guilty about this whole situation. Setting the folder back on the table, you turned back to three men, all three were on you, almost expecting you to take over the situation. 

"Roy..." You took a seat in the very uncomfortable chair next to your used to be best friend, his eyes staring into your own, waiting for an answer. "I guess it's time," You wrung your hands together, your breath shaking as you thought how to best explain to him what happened.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

The two of you puzzle pieced everything together, you told him what he missed while he filed in what he last remembered. It broke your heart to see him look so heartbroken to hear eight years had passed since he went missing. 

He listened as everyone told their part of the story, your dad explaining how hard he worked, Roy telling him how he was grown and had no clue that he was a clone, while you watched him intently, being the brunt of the bad news. 

"So, you're saying...that you took my place, you've been living my life for eight years." Roy stared bitterly at the other one, who sheepishly looked down at his shoes. 

"Hey," You weaved your fingers between his, the contact sending a shiver down his spine as he looked between your face and his hand. "Roy worked tirelessly to find you, for the past five years he has been looking for you nonstop. To the point it almost drove him crazy." You muttered, looking at him briefly before looking back at the younger Roy. 

"Huh," Little Roy nodded and turned to look at your dad. "but not you, you gave up on me." 

"Roy," You hissed at him, tightening your grip on his hand, except the wrong Roy went to answer. 

Your Roy stepped forward, placing his hand on my shoulder, looking down at his clone. "Look, I don't want to be the cause of anymore arguments, I understand if neither of you really want to lay eyes on me again." 

You were about to turn back around when the little Roy beat you to the chase, "I don't know, but from what I see, the clone didn't do anything wrong. He didn't ask to be created, plus, he found me, so I can't blame him." Thinking the four of you had finally come to a happy understanding, you loosened your grip on his hand from death grip to comforting presence. 

"But I can blame you!" 

"Roy!" You pulled him back from attacking your dad even if he couldn't do much to him. "Dad, Roy, leave!"

"Y/N, if that really-" 

You stared back a the two of them with a glare that bested Batman's, "Out." The two grown men left, their heads low as they were kicked out by a twenty-two-year old girl. Groaning, you let your body fall onto the chair behind you, your weight pushing the piece of crappy furniture backwards some inches. "They can be so infuriating."

Looking back up at Little Roy, his new and unsaid nickname sticking with him now, you had hoped he would just talk to you, after all, you two were childhood friends. "Why are you here?" His voice was hushed, and his body shrunk as his mind churned and thought of the information he was just presented. 

"Because I wanted to make sure that you three didn't kill each other," You chuckled, hoping to grab some sort of reaction from him, nada. "I wanted to see you, Roy. Is that too hard to believe that someone cares about you?" For the first time since you arrived, a smile graced his lips, his eyes showed how grateful he was towards you. 

"You've changed," Roy couldn't help that his eyes took in your appearance, you were the same as he left years ago, but you looked older, your eyes looked like there was more wisdom behind them. But something caught his eye as you went to cross your arms.

"So, have you, Roy." You could feel his eyes just looking at you, all of you, and his eyes were curious, so many questions behind them. "Ask away my friend." You chuckled as he blushed at you finding him out.

"You can still read me like an open book I see." You nodded, waiting for him to go on. "How did you...what was it like with me gone?"

Biting your lip, you had to think before answering this one. "Honestly Roy, it was like you never left, yes you were missing, but Roy, the other Roy that is, was just like you. We never had a reason to suspect he wasn't you until we found the file on him being a project of Cadmus." 

The ginger nodded his head, he was expecting that answer, but it still hurt to hear it. "I see the ring. You don't have to hide it you know." Now it was your turn to blush, it was only a matter of time before he saw the gold band on your left ring finger. "I had been dreaming of doing that since the day I met you." 

You smiled at the memory, spinning the ring around as you leaned forward, twiddling with it while you thought back to the simpler times. "You mean when you insulted my mom or when I fell into my birthday cake." 

"How about when you gave me a bloody nose." The two of you were happily laughing about the time your parents thought it was a great idea to invite Roy to your birthday party, that day didn't end well, but it did lead to the two of you being fast friends. "It's still crooked from that, I don't think I could ever forgive you."

"Well obviously you did I mean you mar-" You cut yourself short, forgetting for that second that this wasn't your Roy you were talking to, but the other one. The one your Roy is based off. 

"I was going to ask you to go out with me as soon as I got back from that mission, that's why those goons got the jump on me, I was smiling like an idiot just at the thought of asking you and I was distracted. I had it all planned out, I was gonna swoop in and when you got home from school-"

"You were going to give me a teddy bear with a box of chocolates and be all romantic and ask me out." Finishing the story, you grinned at that memory as well. "He did that you know. At least, he tried. He ended up trip over my nana's bust, successfully breaking it." 

Looking up at Roy, he was staring down at the stump where his arm used to be, a frown on his face and his eyes sad and slowly getting glossy. "So, he really was me. An exact duplicate." 

You leaned forward and gently ran your fingers over his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb, "No, you two are very different people, he may have acted like you Roy, but no one can be you Roy Harper. You are the most talented, amazing kid I have ever know, pretty damn hot too." His face got warm under your touch, his eyes finally looking up to meet yours again, the glass getting thicker.

"So why did you marry him?" 

"Roy," you sighed and looked back at the door where you're sure your dad and other Roy were listening intently. "I can't ever say if it would have been you and I if this all never happened. That's in the what if universe, but I do know, that I love my Roy, he may have started out like you, but he is a different person. You will be nothing like him when you are twenty-three. You two may look the same, but I promise you, that there is only one of you, Roy." 

Roy slowly nodded his head, leaning into your touch while your hand still rested on his cheek, letting a few salty tears run down his face before he takes a deep breath and wipes his damp cheeks dry. "I think I better let you get some rest." You whispered quietly as you stood up to let him have his own time, knowing that was a big part of his processing things. 

"Wait," Roy grabbed hold of your hand, stopping you from getting to far. He noted the tips of his fingers were rubbing the smooth gold wedding band, but he ignored that, knowing this was stupid he asked anyway. "Before you go, Y/N, can I...can I...I wanted to..." He was at a loss for words. The woman he had always loved was married to another, to himself. 

"What is it Roy?" You sat back down, not letting go of his hand, letting him have your full attention. 

He gulped, finally having the courage. "Canikissyou?" His words came out a gargled mess, his mouth deciding to break, and his face went red hot, almost as red as his hair. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Working on calming him down, you ran your free hand through his hair, know at least your Roy became like a purring kitten when your fingers met his hair. 

Roy slowed down his breathing and tried one more time to ask, "Can I...kiss you?" He kept his eyes glued to his lap, examining the wrappings on his opposite arm, his fingers still interlaced with yours. 

There was an awkward silence in the air between the two of you, he waited for you to storm out and never look at him again, but he still felt your hand holding onto his. 

"Well how am I supposed to give you a kiss when you won't even look at me." His eyes slowly looked up to yours, a smile on your face as you moved to sit next to him on the bed. 

He leaned in a little closer to you and you leaned in towards him where the two of you met in the middle. You pressed a quick and chaste kiss to his lips, your experience in this field evident as he was totally shocked about what just happened. 

"That's right, I was your first kiss." You chuckled at his bright red cheeks, pressed another kiss to his cheek this time, chuckling at the young blushing fifteen-year-old. "If it makes you feel any better, you were mine too." You stood up as you gave his hand a final squeeze before letting it go, walking out the door.

Before you reached the door, you looked back at the ginger and smiled at him, and he smiled back. "If you need anything, I write my number down for you to use if you need to talk about anything thing. It's on your charts if you ever want it."

"Thank you, Y/N." He smiled at you again, his cheeks still dusted pink as you left the room. 

Outside you met your dad and your Roy waiting for you, "You guys should probably go easy on him if you want him to get accumulated to everything." Ollie nodded his head and turned back to a waiting doctor. 

Roy gently pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head and smothering you in his chest. "He asked me to kiss him." You whispered into his chest, your own actions shocking you as soon as you realized what you just did. Feeling his grip around you tighten, you knew he heard you. "And I did."

You could hear the deep sigh, the breath tickling the top of your head. "I'm not angry, but, why?"

"He's just like you when you came back." You looked up at your husband's face, studying it and seeing how much eight years has done to him, it was shocking to see especially with the younger him being on the other side of a wall. "Lost, confused. I just wanted to give him some comfort."

Roy hummed to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slowly let you out of his bear hug. "Let's go home," he said as you linked pinkie fingers together, him gently pulling you down the hallway. 

"Home sounds good." You thought of Roy, both of them, they were the same person, but two completely different people. "Roy?" 

"Yeah?" He looked back at you, happily surprised when you met him with a small peck. "Hmm, nice little surprise."

"I love you, Roy Harper." You smiled up at him, something in you happily told you that this was him. 

Yes, that young fifteen-year-old pulled out of time was Roy Harper, there's no denying it.

But the man in front of you, your ginger, arrow shooting husband, he was just as much Roy Harper. But he was different. 

That's because he was your Roy Harper. 

[stoplookingupforheaven]

one day i went “hey, i see a parallel in one line of Four Walls and one line of Skulls, let’s write a one-shot!”

here it is.

warnings: this piece does center around the theme of murder (but never goes into detail) and contains a few passing mentions of small, dark spaces.

Murder, n. The crime

Is it really always a crime?

They say the traffic was murder, yesterday at rush hour - does that make it a crime? Because something is difficult, does that set it irrevocably against the law? There must be a qualifier. Where do the deeds I have done fall?

---

Part I: I’ll Be Buried Here With You / There’s No View From Here

I have never been afraid of the dark, or small spaces. Spending eternity under the ground is not such a bad way to go.

Now, there is only a tiny patch of sky. I mark the passing of time by its color, and the slow march of clouds as they drift by.

I am like these clouds; weightless, helpless, pulled by the winds of fate to nowhere. My four walls are gray. The sky is cerulean, sometimes. Others, navy. Still others, it is indistinguishable from the gray of the walls. Cold colors for a cold world.

By comparison, the ground sounds welcoming. Rich earth, warmed by the sun, to rest over my body. Dandelions taking hold over my bones. Life feeding death feeding life.

Will the ground I am destined to sleep beneath be warm? Will I sink into its embrace as I did when I was a child, digging my hands into the garden beds and letting the earth spill over my arms and legs? I used to come home with dirt in my hair and on my skin, and it was warmed by me, by the life that I gave off, in blood or sweat or sunburn. Is this what death is like?

Or does the earth only warm those who sleep with no guilt?

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully

Now, that’s just silly. Whoever heard of a lawful crime? It’s an oxymoron, a contradiction of terms.

Perhaps Robin Hood committed so-called “lawful crimes”. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. He followed his own code, even if it wasn’t the one accepted by society. Morally right, legally wrong. I suppose it depends on one’s definition of “lawful,” which is absolutely a more confusing thing to define than murder.

---

Part II: In These Four Walls My Thoughts Seem To Wander / These Four Walls To Keep You

At night, I have visitors.

They come to me in dreams, by turns scolding or sympathetic. Some promise vengeance on my behalf. Others scream at me, cursing me and my family and everyone I’ve ever loved. Those ones are usually dead.

Some just want to know why.

Sometimes, I want to know why too.

Why does anyone kill? What moves a person to take the life of someone else? I have a feeling that if I knew, I’d have a much better defense, but I don’t know any more than anyone else. I am not a psychologist. I do not pretend to know how the human mind works, not even my own.

The detectives go on about “motive” and “means” as if such things are substitutes for the synapses in the brain that determine the actions of the body, as if by piecing together their clues and logic puzzles they could understand why anyone does anything. What they fail to understand - and what I do - is that why is so much more than methodology. The mind is more than the pieces of the brain added up, more than the chemical equations that allow us the ability to speak and breathe and point a gun and pull the trigger. We are more than the sum of our actions.

I wish I could speak to the ones who ask why. I want to know why, too.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing

Behold, a verb.

Specifically, one meaning to take life, although not every life we end is considered murder, clearly. The child who severs a flower from its stem is not considered a murderer.

There are things, too, that may give us life without giving up their own. We pick the apple, but the tree does not die.

---

Part III: Now It’s All Before You / Now You Carry It With You

Do feelings stay with us into death?

Will I carry with me the legacy of my actions, cradling the weight in my hands, cursed to bear the chains that I have forged forever? Will I wear them through some Jacob Marley-esque, ghostlike existence? Or does the loss of earthly consciousness mean losing consciousness of those chains, too?

I have grown used to the burden. The remains, the leftovers of the crime I committed, are always with me, a weight that both punishes and comforts me. I do not wish to carry it at all, but I want even less to feel no guilt. The guilt reminds me that I am real, autonomous, and not simply the product of someone else’s nightmare.

I would fear God only if I believed in one to fear. As it is, I have never found any comfort in placing my hopes in the hands of the divine. They say that others have repented when they were on death’s door, that their last act was to plead for forgiveness before they met their Maker.

I will choose instead to take my chances only if and when I find a God in death. I did not act in this life with the intent of pleasing a deity; I see no reason to change this in the life after.

Perhaps, if there truly is an always-forgiving God, it will not matter. Perhaps I will not carry my chains through death.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing a person

Oh, murder applies specifically to people? Now we’re beginning to go somewhere.

Human beings killing other human beings. We’ve been doing that for thousands of years. Is every soldier’s death on the battlefield murder? Some would say so. The accidents we cause, that lead to the deaths of loved ones - are those murder? Perhaps.

---

Part IV: I’ll Hold In These Hands All That Remains / Until You Face The Rope

The end is an interesting place to be. It’s empty, but not how you might think.

It isn’t empty like a pristine living room waiting to be filled with furniture. It’s empty like a kitchen after all the guests have left. There’s a few stray napkins, a wrapper on the counter, crumbs on the tablecloth. The remains of something that was once full.

Here is what remains at my end: four walls, one floor, a tiny piece of sky, the weight of the wrong I have done, and me.

I am not dead. That is still to come. But I have reached the end of my life. I exist in some in-between state, waiting for the inevitable, patiently, restlessly, quietly.

All that is left are skeletons; this skeleton room, my skeleton thoughts. Soon, I will join them, and my bones will be all that remains of a life that was lived, if not fully or well.

I believe I have made my peace with it.

---

Murder, n. The crime of unlawfully killing a person, especially with malice aforethought.

The death of one, at the hand of another. The hand of one who envisioned it. One who has lain awake at night pondering it. One who set out on the journey with a clear end in mind, an end that had room for one less person, one more corpse.

Does what I have done fit this definition?

A jury of twelve said so. The truth does not matter now.

[acediian]

—𝓉𝑜𝓋𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉 (𝓋𝒾𝒾𝒾.)

thanos x original character fanfiction  |  pre-infinity war  |  2k words +

a/n: it’s been a long time since i worked on the fic and an even longer time since i updated it here! hope you enjoy this little goodbye to tovarion <3

chapters  i.  ii.  iii.  iv.  v.  vi.  vii.

A dense, silvery fog had settled on the capital city and surrounding overnight, and a distinct crispness had followed it. Aerendis found herself straining to see through it as the sound of the palace servants removing the last remnants of her possessions echoed in her now empty chambers. If not for her impending departure, it would have been as typical a morning as any on Tovarion. A typical fog, through which she could hear the familiar squawking of the fowl that made their nests in the trees and the growing commotion of the city as it slowly came to life for the day.

Yet a heaviness shrouded her and a melancholy sallowed her cheeks on this particular morning. Even through the fog, she could still see her husband’s warship looming overhead, its red lights flickering through the mist. Aerendis wished she could get one last glimpse at her beautiful city, of the silvery hills that sparkled with the afternoon sunlight, or the distant ocean whose gentle waves had always beckoned her.

All morning, she had barely said a word to anyone - only a “yes” or “no” spoken every so often as servants asked if this item or that item was to be transported to the warship. Her cloak of royal blue fluttered at her ankles in the soft morning wind, the fur around her neck tickling her cheeks. Silver trimmed the entire outfit, a form-fitted grey cloth jacket clasped together down the front with elegant stitching and buttons, and slim trousers to match. Sensible not only for the cold morning air, but also a love letter to the royal family and to the home she was soon to leave behind.

“Princess Aerendis, will you have something to eat before you depart?” one of her mother’s handmaidens asked - no, begged - for what seemed like the tenth time.

She shook her head. She had no appetite to speak of, only a knot of nerves rolling and twisting inside her.

Others stopped to ask her a few more times as the room emptied over the next minutes, hour - she did not know. When the sound of shuffling feet and clunking wood died down, Aerendis finally turned away from the balcony. All the contents were gone save for a few small pieces of furniture. These had been her chambers since her birth. To see it so empty for the first time elicited a feeling akin to grief in her chest. She began to pace, taking in the image of the room’s tree-like wooden beams, its large, ornate windows, its floor, weathered from millennia of use.

There was no mistaking the sound of footsteps as they approached through the open door. Aerendis heard the individual’s feet snap together and she turned to see one of her mother’s servants in a deep bow. “Princess, your belongings have been moved to the ship, along with your handmaiden’s.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice soft yet it still seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Your husband - erm, his highness... ” he spoke the last two words through gritted teeth. “- awaits your arrival, princess.”

“Then I should not keep him waiting.”

With another bow, the servant left her once again. Aerendis stood, rigid as stone, as his footsteps slowly retreated down the long hallway. There was a part of her that wanted to stay here, pretend as though no one would come looking for her as she did. Or, she could mount her Faraax and ride to the other side of the world, to where the mountain clan lived in secluded huts in the coldest regions of Tovarion.

But such thoughts were for children, not for a princess who had duties to her family, her people, and her husband alike.

Saying a silent goodbye to the chambers that had served her so well over the years, Aerendis began the long walk through the palace and out to where her husband expected her. She could still hear the lively music playing from inside the great hall from the party that had gone on all night and would continue as such for days on end. The sweet, tinny aroma of Tovari wine and the warm smell of bread from the kitchens filled her nostrils as she passed. There was nothing that she would not miss about home.

Though Aerendis had left many times before, the promise of return had always been at her fingertips. This time, there was no telling when her feet would touch Tovari soil again. The realization of that fact was as harsh as the cold morning air bit at her skin.

“Aerendis,” the queen’s voice echoed throughout the hall, followed by a flurry of footsteps behind her. Her mother was rarely without her entourage. It was even more unsurprising that she would have so many handmaidens and guards at her side on this day.

“Ama.” Aerendis replied with a certain shock in her own voice. “I thought you would be outside already.”

“I have a great many places to be today,” Aredhyn replied. “But your side is where I want to be most right now.” Her arms enveloped her daughter, pulling her into a hug far tighter than any Aerendis could remember. Yet the princess did not object or make any utterance of discomfort, only sinking into her mother’s warm embrace and wrapping her own arms around her.

“I suppose this is goodbye,” Aerendis whispered with a distinct tremble in her voice.

“No,” the queen replied, pulling away to take her daughter’s face gently between her hands. “Not goodbye.” Their foreheads touched and both pairs of eyes - identical in their round shape and hue of grey - closed. “Until we see one another again.” Whether in this life or the next, Tovari would always reunite with their people in the end.

“I like that much better.”

“So do I.” A thumb caressed Aerendis’ cheek before falling away. The pair began their slow walk through the halls together, followed closely by the others.

“Ama, I am afraid that I won’t know how to be a wife to him,” Aerendis confessed. “There is no love between us. I bear no loyalty to him aside from the vows I spoke in the temple. How am I to serve a conqueror? A warlord?”

“You can only serve as you have promised. You have offered diplomacy and that is what you shall give. This does not mean that you will need to fight for him. Frankly, I cannot see you ever agreeing to such a thing.” Aredhyn glanced lovingly at her daughter, her fierce girl with a quick tongue who had been fortunate enough to never have experienced true battle in all her days. “You have a gentle, good heart, my love. Such a heart may have no place on a warship, but I know it will guide you nonetheless. And it will most certainly bring you at odds with your husband at times.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Aerendis sighed. “I suppose, at the very least, that I will never have a dull moment.”

“No, you won’t.”

The queen chuckled, locking arms with her daughter as the two proceeded through the palace gates and down the vast staircase that ended in the stone square below. All the way down, Aerendis glanced one last time over the city - at each shop and home, at the residents who went about their day. Her eyes ultimately fell on Thanos, who stood with his daughters by his right side and the others who served him by his left. Illaria waited, too, hands clasped uncomfortably before her as she stood by such a menacing group.

“It seems as though I have kept you waiting yet again,” Aerendis said to her husband, a grin hiding behind her eyes. She found a certain enjoyment in his displeasure already; that frown of his was one she was certain she would see a great many times in the coming years. “The power stone is secure on your ship, I take it.”

“Yes, princess,” Thanos replied. As usual, he sounded exasperated by her. “You upheld your end of our bargain.”

“And I hope to continue to do so.” Her mother was right, however. She knew their opinions would clash time and time again, despite her promises to him.

“If you’ve said your goodbyes, we will--”

“Rena!” Thanos was cut off as Erodhil came barreling down the palace steps, breathless and flushed in the face. His shoulder-length black hair was as unkempt as his outfit, which he hurriedly attempted to straighten as he caught a stern glance from their mother. “Rena... my gods. I did not realize that you were departing so early.”

“I see you’ve been enjoying my wedding feast,” Aerendis replied, a single brow raised. “Have you been up all night?”

“Well, yes, but...” he began, his eyes flitting to Thanos for a brief moment. “Haven’t you?”

Aerendis, too, turned to meet her husband’s gaze briefly, a similarly furrowed expression on his face. “No," she said a bit too forcefully. "I merely woke early to pack my things.”

“You should have returned to the hall to have a drink with me.”

“I wish I had had the time.” Aerendis stepped toward her brother, arms wrapping around him. “Carry on celebrating for me, big brother.” She remembered her mother’s words from before. “Until we see each other again.”

“Yes, until then,” he echoed, his grip around her tightening.

“I hope that day will come soon.” Aerendis knew he did as well. They had always been an inseparable pair, practically since her birth. What would he do, now, without all her wisdom to guide him? “I wish you all the health and happiness in the world, brother. Remember all I have told you and you will come to be a great king one day.”

Erodhil scoffed and drew back to scowl at her. “I already would be!” But the look she returned caused his frown to soften. He digressed and sunk once again into their embrace. “I will miss you, Rena.” His voice dropped to a volume that only she could hear. “Please be safe. Look out for yourself. I will pray for you every day. I hope you will find even a semblance of happiness in your new life. You deserve nothing less.”

“Thank you, Erodhil.” Drawing away, her lips turned up into a coy grin. “Look at you, a sentimental prince.”

“Hm.” His stoicism belied the sadness she knew brewed beneath the surface. Aerendis could see that he was seconds from crumbling.

“I will pray for you, too. And I will miss you every day.”

“May the gods guide you home.” Words spoken to any Tovari who left the planet. A simple wish, a prayer, to follow them wherever they may travel.

Aerendis drew him into one last hug. “I love you, brother.”

“I love you, too,” Erodhil mumbled into her hair before letting her go.

The queen embraced her daughter almost as quickly as her son stepped back, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. “Be well, my love. Gods guide you on your journey across the stars. I will see you again soon.”

“That’s a promise,” Aerendis murmured, basking in the warm comfort of her mother’s arms for just a moment longer.

“I love you, so very much.”

“And I love you, Ama.”

Tears brimmed in Aerendis’ eyes, eliciting a similarly misty-eyed glance from her mother. But the princess blinked them away as she turned toward her husband. Even as this all transpired, it somehow still felt like a dream - one from which she desperately hoped to wake. But the sweetness of the trees filling her nostrils and the soft, cool wisp of morning air that brushed her cheek told her that she was not sleeping.

Grasping Illaria’s hand in hers, a bright sheath of light surrounded them. Just as a weightless feeling overtook her, she caught her mother’s gaze one final time before the darkness of the warship engulfed her and Tovarion lay far, far beneath her feet.

Tagging: @kurochan3​ (let me know if you’d also like to be tagged in future chapters!)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Chapter 7; The aftermath

*Author's note*

Well, well, well been awhile hadn't it? Well you all asked for it and I hereby deliver. Here we go with the 2nd half of Mother Raksha. Now I should tell you that throughout this second half POV's will jump around but the most likely POV's will either be in Rauri's or 3rd Person. So I hope that's okay with you all.

Now I should warn you that towards the end it gets a little too graphic so if you are squeamish of any kind just try and avoid the last part of the chapter. But I hope you all enjoy the LONG AWAITED SECOND HALF OF MOTHER WOLF RAKSHA IN INFINITY WAR :) Gifs do NOT belong to me, all credit goes to the owners.

Perm. taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@platawnic

______________________________________________________________

*Rauri’s POV*

23 days. Three weeks. Three. Bloody. Whole. Weeks. Ever since Thanos invaded our world and did exactly what he was set out to do. Trillions of people lost families and loved ones, and of course I’m no exception. I lost so many of my friends I finally got to bond with after being freed from Connor’s control, and her.

The love of my life, my mate, my other half. (Y/n) Williams. Barely within 48hrs after saying I do, I hold her in my arms as she faded away into ash.

Now here I am here at the new Avengers facility in upstate New York along with Dean and Mitchell my betas. It was nightfall and I was currently sleeping outside the facility in an old ‘wolf house’ that was once constructed for my wife when she first joined the Avengers.

It was about the size of a mini mansion with an easy open access door for her to walk in and lay in on a large pieces of furniture big enough for her wolf form alone. So here I was lying inside of it, huffing out heavily in my wolf form.

Thinking of how I couldn’t protect her, I should’ve stopped Thanos myself from snapping his damn fingers, if I had just ran over and ripped Thanos’ arm off, none of this would’ve happened.

Suddenly my ears perked up from a deep rumble coming from the sky. I raced out and could see something, some sort of large shape. I don’t know if the others could see or even feel this so I let out several loud barks and warning howls signaling everyone to get out here.

It was then Steve, Natasha, Rhodes, Bruce, Pepper Potts, Dean and Mitchell all came out and soon coming overhead was a large spaceship but it didn’t look like it belonged to Thanos. My eyes however were on the woman that was glowing and radiating some sort of energy and she was single handedly moving the ship and lowering it to the ground.

Once the ship was safely down on the ground the energy faded and she turned to us. She looked to be about my age with medium length blonde hair and wore a red, blue and gold space-suit of sorts.

My attention then turned towards the doors of the ships opening and out came a very frail and weak Tony Stark. He was being supported by a blue robotic woman until Steve went up and helped him down the last set of stairs.

“Couldn’t stop him.” He panted out

“Neither could I.”

“Hang on.” They stopped and then Stark whispered so softly it was like it was wind blowing but of course thanks to my hearing, I heard it. “I lost the kid.”

“Tony we lost.”

“Is, uh….” But when Pepper walked right up to Tony they were both relieved to see the other alive after all this. They embraced each other and wept.

Seeing them together while it made me feel relieved that Pepper didn’t have to go through what I am now, it still made me feel upset that my wife isn’t here. I turned and began to walk away when I heard Stark say.

“(Y/n)?” I stopped and turned around phasing into my human form and said.

“Sorry to disappoint, but my wife is no longer with us anymore.” He looked at me wide-eyed in shock but I didn’t say another word as I walked back into the facility with my hands in my coat pockets and Mitchell and Dean walking behind me.

We were all in the main room with holograms of everyone that had disappeared from the Snap or blip as some of us have called it as Rhodes explained.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.”

“World governments are in pieces. The parts that are still working…are trying to take a census and it looks like he did…He did exactly what he said he was gonna do. Thanos wiped out….50% of all living creatures.” Natasha spoke brokenly.

“Where is he now? Where?” Tony asked from his wheelchair he was now sitting on as he was being given fluids from the dehydration and malnourishment he suffered up in space for the past 3 weeks.

“We don’t know.” Answered Steve. “He just opened a portal and walked through.” Tony sighed before turning his attention to Thor who had isolated himself into a corner, brooding on his failure.

“What’s wrong with him?” Stark asked.

“Oh, he’s pissed. He thinks he failed. Which, of course, he did…but you know there’s a lot of that going around, ain’t there?” the raccoon Rocket explained.

“Honestly, until this exact second I thought you were a Build-a-bear.” Tony said to Rocket.

“Maybe I am.”

“We’ve been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep space scans…and satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him.” Steve explained before Tony retorted sarcastically.

“Who told you that? I didn’t fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet….while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the stone. That’s what happened. There was no fight, cause he’s not beatable.”

“Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?” Tony then sputtered out, like he didn’t even care which really pissed not only me, but Mitchell and Dean off as well.

This was the famed and great Iron-Man?

“I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. I didn’t want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming.”

“Tony I’m gonna need you to focus.” Said Steve.

“And I needed you.” Tony snapped back. “As in, past tense. That trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry.” He sniffled before continuing as he tossed his plate of food across the table before standing up, “You know what I need? I need a shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse…”

As Rhodes tried to calm him down, Stark actually took his IV and ripped it right out of his arm as he continued to rant.

“Alive and otherwise, that what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that?” The Ultron fiasco. I had heard about that, in fact Connor and I were still in Sokovia when it all went down, just before the city blew up to hell. “Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not. That’s what we needed.”

“Well that didn’t work out, did it?” Steve said softly glaring at Tony.

“I said we’d lost. You said, ‘we’ll do that together too.’ And guess what Cap? We lost. And you weren’t there. But that’s what we do right? Our best work after the fact? We’re the ‘Avengers’. We’re the ‘Avengers’. Not the ‘Pre-vengers’.”

“Okay.” Rhodes said as he tried to stabilize Tony before he would collapse right to the floor.

“Right?”

“You made your point. Just sit down, okay?” Rhodes advised him urgently. But as my love has said, Tony Stark was a stubborn idiot, and now I was witnessing first had just how stubborn this billionaire was.

“Okay. No, no, here’s my point. You know what? She’s great by the way.” He said pointing toward the woman who had introduced herself as Carol Danvers.

“Tony, you’re sick. Sit down.”

“We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mules. I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates…no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust, liar.” Tony said as he walked right up to Steve and got in his face but Cap wasn’t affected by it at all. He then ripped the arc-reactor from his chest and forced it into Steve’s hand. “Here, take this. You find him, you put that on…you hide.” I could just sense that he was ready to pass out.

And my instincts were correct as Stark fell to his knees and Rhodey, Steve and Carol who were the closest to him tried to help him up, but ever stubborn fool he was tried to say he was fine until he finally collapsed unconscious from dehydration and lack of nourishment.

I stood up from the corner in wolf form and walked right up to him and lifted my paw to gently move his lower half so that it was even to how he was laying. I looked up to Rhodes and he gave me permission.

I then gripped onto Tony’s robe and slung him onto my back. I pressed my paw against his arm that hung over my neck before giving him that final buck for him to be fully lying against my back. Pepper then led me to his bedroom and both her and Rhodes got him into bed while Bruce gave him a sedative to help him stay asleep and rest up.

Now that I was back standing beside Dean and Mitchell along with Nat and Steve. Rhodes explained to them about Tony’s condition now when Carol spoke up.

“You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back.”

“Where are you going?” asked Steve.

“To kill Thanos.” She spoke proudly as she walked away. We all looked at each other before going after her.

“Hey.” Carol stopped and turned back towards the two Avengers as Nat continued, “we usually work as a team here. And uhh—between you and I, morale’s a little fragile.”

“We realize up there is more your territory, but this is our fight too.” Steve stated.

“You even know where he is?” asked Rhodey.

“I know people who might.” She stated arrogantly.

“Don’t bother.” The robotic woman, Nebula spoke up from the other side of the room. “I can tell you where Thanos is.”

We were now in what looked like a study room/bar as Nebula explained to us where her ‘father’ was at.

“Thanos spent a long time trying to perfect me. And when he worked, he talked about his Great Plan. Even disassembled I wanted to please him. I’d ask…where would we go once his plan was complete? And his answer was always the same…..” she walked towards the table where Rocket stood on and she finished, “To the Garden.”

“That’s cute. Thanos has a retirement plan.” Rhodey said sarcastically.

“So where is he?” I asked. It was then Rocket activated a hologram projection from the center of the table and he explained.

“When Thanos snapped his fingers; Earth became ground zero for a power surge of ridiculous cosmic proportions. No one’s ever seen anything like it. Until two days ago,” the holograph changed from an image of Earth to another planet that made the same surge of energy as Earth did as Rocket explained. “On this planet.”

“Thanos is there.” Nebula said. Nat leaned against the table right up to this new planet as she said.

“He used the stones again.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Bruce chuckled nervously. “We’d be going in shorthanded, you know?”

“Look he’s still got the stones, so….” Rhodey said before Carol interrupted him.

“So let’s get him. Use them to bring everyone back.”

“Just like that?” Banner asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve stated bluntly.

“Even if there’s a small chance that we can undo this… I mean, we owe it to everyone who’s not in this room to try.” Dean stated.

“If we do this, how do we know it’s gonna end differently than it did before?”

“Because before you didn’t have me.” Carol said.

“Look new girl. Most of us have done the ‘superhero’ thing hell my friends and I are still adjusting to it. But if you don’t mind me asking, there the hell have you been for the past 20 years?” Mitchell snapped.

“There are a lot of other planets in the universe. And they didn’t have your buddies or these guys.” It was then Thor finally stood up and walked right up to Carol.

The two of them just stared at each other till Thor extended his hand and I could hear a rumble in the distance and soon flying right past Carol was Thor’s new weapon Stormbreaker. And she didn’t even flinch. Thor set his axe down staring down at Carol before saying.

“I like this one.” Steve then turned to the map before saying.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch.”

If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be flying in a spaceship with the Avengers, a mutant raccoon, and an enhanced Air force pilot, I would’ve told you that you were completely bonkers.

But here I am, in a spaceship. Everyone with their battle suits on or at the ready for Banner. Mitchell, Dean and I were hanging in the back since due to our animal enhancements we had better balance to survive the space jumps we would be making to reach this planet.

“Okay, who here hasn’t been to space?” asked Rocket as he turned to us. Nat, Steve, Rhodey, Mitchell, Dean and myself raised our hands as Rhodey questioned why and I heard Carol chuckle. “You better not throw up on my ship.”

“Approaching jump in three….two….one.” Suddenly like an airplane taking flight but much faster, we went through the space jump. The galaxy zipping right by us almost giving me a visual whiplash until finally we arrived at the Garden.

Carol was now outside of the ship and hovering in front of us as she told us she would head down there for recon. Once she left, I looked down at my wedding band and felt my heart aching once more.

“We’ll get her back man.” I heard Mitchell say. “All of them.”

“We better. Because I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me if I don’t.” I pleaded. As quick as she left, Carol returned with some shocking news.

“No satellites, no ships, no armies, no ground defenses of any kind. It’s just him.”

“And that’s enough.” Nebula stated. Took the words right out of my mouth.

*3rd Person POV*

In the garden a statue of Thanos’ armor hung in pride as a settlement mark of him claiming this garden as his own after doing what he had set out to do.

Limping along gathering food was the mad titan himself. He soon staggered up the four steps to his hut and prepared himself supper. As Thanos put down the pot to boil his dinner, the entire left side of his body was charred away, almost like he had been burned by something.

Then suddenly out of nowhere as he looked upward, a powerful blast was sent down towards him. He blocked it with the gauntlet that was also still burned from using the stones. Soon Carol tackled him across the hut and she rolled around but regained her footing as she charged at him.

She swung behind him holding him in a choke hold making Thanos scream and groan out. Suddenly out of the firepit, Bruce in the rebuilt Veronica suit, held his left arm which held the gauntlet as well as Dean who roared out angrily and came behind Thanos and held him around his torso crushing his ribs. While soon flying down was Rhodey as well as Mitchell who was in his dog form held and pulled the titan’s other arm.

Encaging him in a trap allowing Thor to fly in and cut Thanos’ left arm freeing the gauntlet and making the titan scream in pain, but of course they did nothing to spare him of the pain. Walking in through the now wide entrance were Steve and Natasha riding on top of the large black wolf that was Rauri.

He snarled at the titan and licked his lips baring his teeth as he snarled at him showing him that now they all had the upper hand and were not gonna submit to him this time.

But when Rocket turned over the gauntlet, he was horrified. The stones were gone.

“Oh no.” he muttered as he looked up to everyone in fear. Steve and Nat looked down at the gauntlet before turning to the titan and Steve demanded.

“Where are they?”

“Answer the question.” Carol hissed into his ear. Thanos groaned which caused Dean to squeeze his ribs tighter forcing Thanos to finally talk.

“The universe required correction. After that, the stones served no purpose…beyond temptation.”

‘You murdered trillions!’ Bruce exclaimed as he pushed Thanos down to the ground. Weak and not even putting up a fight, Thanos weakly turned over and said.

“You should be grateful.” Bruce then proceeded to punch Thanos in the face sending him back down.

“Where are the stones?” Natasha asked trying to remain strong but her wall was breaking down.

“Gone. Reduced to atoms.” Said Thanos.

‘You used them two days ago!’

“I used the stones to destroy the stones. It nearly killed me. But the work is done. It always will be. I am….inevitable.”

‘He has to be lying! Mitchell, Rauri let’s tear this place apart!’ Dean spoke through the collar in his bear form but Nebula spoke softly.

“Ah. My father is many things. A liar is not one of them.” Thanos sighed with relief and turned to Nebula and said.

“Thank you daughter. Perhaps I treated you too harshly.” Suddenly just before Thor could even lift up Stormbreaker, a flash of black pinned Thanos straight to the ground.

Rauri opened his mouth exposing his large canine teeth to the weak titan who for the first time in his life felt fear. His saliva dripped onto the titan’s face as the Alpha’s mouth drew closer. Licking his chops as he breathed his hot, foul breath upon his prey.

Then as quick as lightning he pounced. He gripped onto Thanos’ head barking and snarling madly as blood began pouring. The sounds of gurgling as Thanos began to echo out as Rauri continued his assault, until everyone heard the bones of Thanos’ neck snap off like a twig being broken in half as Rauri now held in his mouth the Head of Thanos.

He tossed it aside and snarled at it as blood continued to pour out from the rest of the body. Purple blood pouring out of his mouth onto the ground and down his black fur.

‘Jesus.’ Bruce spoke softly.

“What did you do?” Rocket said.

‘What all wolves do. I went for the head. Something you should’ve done three weeks ago!’ Rauri snarled at Thor.

Then as a final act of cold, heartlessness, he picked up Thanos’ body by the arm and dragged it outside, with Mitchell and Dean walking silently behind their alpha.

Everyone was in shock. Nebula who was now crouched down on all fours by the head of her ‘father’ who now bore teeth marks and torn apart shred of flesh from where Rauri had indented into him. In some sort of mercy, she closed his eyes before bowing her head in solemn.

Everyone else just stood there in shock, defeat, regret, and sorrow. They all failed. It was too late, with the stones gone there was no way to bring everyone that had turned to ash back.

They lost.

[pbandjesse]

It is still to cold!!! It was not as windy but still very cold. Today was weird but not a bad day.

We slept in really late. My alarm went off at 9 and I was like no. And we didnt get up until after 10. I still wasn't thrilled but we got up.

I went and got dressed. Wore many layers. Tried to be as cozy as possible. James went to do dishes and make muffins for us.

The muffins were good. I hung out in the living room. He came and sat with me and then I asked if he would make me an egg sandwich. I went over how to do it. He doesnt make eggs. He doesnt eat eggs. But he wants to learn. But he messed it up real bad. And I got frustrated snd we threw it away and we tried again. The 2nd egg had a double yolk! Ive never had that before ever! And I eat a lot of eggs! It was crazy to me. James was really upset about messing up and his energy really leeched into me and I got more and more upset.

We bundled up and i tried to not feel miserable. I wished i had one more layer on my legs. We got to thr post office and i sent my little shelby off. I broke even in the shipping. Live and learn. I'll get better at this selling thing.

James upset me again whrn we were leading because I felt like he wasnt listening to me. We talk later and made up. He is trying to not be in his own head and listen to me.

I told him about ERS last year and all the burst pipes we had to deal with. How miserable it was and how sad. And then the bus was there and we said goodbye.

I really wasnt feeling good though. My sinuses are dying from the change from hot and cold all the time. When i got to the school I tried to feel okay but i just didn't. Chelsi was worried but I held it together.

We had a very very small day!! Only 6 kids. We did coloring sheets and listened to music. I set up large paper for them to paint on. I worked on some oil pastels. It was fun. I forgot how much I like that.

The kids slowly started going home. I think its because their parents didnt want to go outside when it was dark. And i dont blame them. But soon enough everyone was going home.

Both Liz and Lauren offered me rides home but i wanted to check out the thrift store. And so i wandered up there and it was an okay place. Lots of furniture. I had a nice time looking around. I went to the dollar general and picked up a few things and then went to get the bus.

It took a while but I got on the bus and got home in one piece.

When i got back here I unpacked my bag and put on sweatpants for warmth. The mailman came and ibhad 3 packages! My new chargers. My new fake airpods. And my lady liberty furby!! Shes so soft and beautiful. Doesn't turn on but I still love her.

I made rice and nuggets for dinner. And i watched the new shane dawson doc. Just trying to be warm and rest. Im going to go wash my face and have a snack. I hope you all sleep well tonight. Im spending the day out with James and then im at the science center for the first time this season! Nervous!! Wish me luck. Sleep well!

[bengalisms]

HEADCANON. Diwali headcanons galore! I’ve done them in bits and pieces but today I’m going to lay them all put for you all! Click any of the links for images or a description!

         BEFORE DIWALI

i. The minute Halloween/his Birthday is over, Caspian begins prepping for Diwali. He will never prepare before Halloween, only after! Depending on when Diwali falls in closeness to Halloween, this either gives him a good amount of time, or NO TIME AT ALL. It’s during this time that he will buy all the gifts, decorations, and grocery shopping. This is also when he would start asking people if they would be okay with receiving gifts from him on Diwali.

ii. Caspian always buys a new outfit for himself and Makena every year! For Makena it usually varies between a saree or a churidar. For Caspian he tends to stick to modern Indian fashion trends –– though more often than not you will find him in a kurta.

iii. Caspian tries to make sure all of his gifts have an element of being hand-made (either by him or by others). Diwali gifting isn’t about grandness but meaning and effort. This means usually he makes people “kits” or “bundles” of things that they would enjoy that also come from his culture. The cultural aspect is important to him, so often times the gifts will have some connection to his culture. 

iv. the night before Diwali, Caspian will clear his meditation space and use the floor there to create rangoli –– works of art created from powdery paint. He will spread it on the floor, and usually this takes hours. Usually he opts to do a mandala given that it looks really nice in the room, but he may also chose to draw things like a peacock or tiger. He will sing mantras while he does this –– to him, it is a form of meditation and preparation to let light enter his household for the next year. He will also place Diyas on the tips of the mandalas where they seem fit.

         ON DIWALI

i. Caspian will wake up and do an extended bout of mediation and prayer. He will not do this in his meditation room due to the rangoli, but he will do it in the living room area. 

ii. After his prayer he will bathe and shower. He will do his hair and leave it long before dressing into his outfit for the day. It’s then that he will apply his Tilak –– which he will wear all day. The application of tilak for Caspian, symbolizes his willingness to be close to his gods. He wears tilak often enough on non-holiday events that most people in his life would have seen him wearing tilak before. 

iii. Caspian takes the whole day off of work if the date lands on a weekday. He spends the whole day preparing the house. He will move furniture around, he will practice many pujas during the day and will also prepare all the diyas other ghee lamps for that evening. 

iv. After noon-hour, Caspian will no longer use electric lights. He will turn off all the lights and when the house becomes too dark, he will light the diyas he’s prepared.

v.  Caspian spends most of the afternoon cooking. Samosas and pakoras and chutneys and kebabs and masalas and oH MY GOD SO MUCH FOOD. The man cooks like there’s no tomorrow. He will also make fresh mango lassi and various other treats for desserts! While he’s not good at baking or making sweets, he often buys them from a local Indian market. 

vi. Caspian will go out to the market after getting everything pretty much cooked. He’ll visit the local shops and buy last minute items he might have forgot. He will also stop by a flower shop and pick up a few bouquets of marigolds. He will use these to decorate by leaving the heads of the marigolds about the house –– everywhere. He might also purchase, or later make garland out of them!

vii. Around 5pm is when his family starts to come over. Mavahir and Deke always come over. Sometimes he will also have his Aunties and Uncles as well as his Cousin come over too. They all gather and chat and pray and celebrate the day and what it means. They exchange gifts and sing together. 

viii. While Caspian cannot do mehindi, both his Auntie and his Aapa are very good at it. One of the first activities him and his family do (while there’s still some day light) is get some mehindi done together. Men and woman participate in this! Caspian adores it. Caspian will often get Mehindi on his feet & his wrists.

x. It isn’t until around 9pm when they actually will sit down for their meal. And by sit down, I mean walk around the living room, sit on any bit of floor space they can find, and start to eat. Caspian will make mostly finger food for Diwali as it’s easier to eat while sitting down without a table.

xi. The house would feel like a temple during Diwali. Tranquil and warm with rich foods all around. Diyas will be lit all afternoon and night, and Caspian will let them burn on and on. Usually the family doesn’t end up leaving the house until at least midnight, sometimes even later. 

         AFTER DIWALI

i. Caspian uses diwali as a way to shed the ills of the year. He uses it as a way to flush out the ache in his chest that lasted all October. Sometimes, it isn’t easy. But after Diwali Caspian seems happy and refreshed.

ii. Caspian will often leave much of the decorations up after Diwali. There’s often a lot of leftovers so the family lives off that for about a week. Caspian doesn't like to see Diwali go, so he genuinely takes his time purposefully when cleaning things up. His mediation room is always the first thing to be cleaned up.

iii. Caspian will wear Tilak for days after diwali.

[dxlanwrites]

"Old Roots" .1 (G.D)

A/N: After re-reading the series I didn't like how fast the plot developed so I've been rewriting the current parts that are up. Some parts are still the same, others are different and have added scene's. Here's part 1. She's a long one so watch out. Enjoy.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~~~~~~~~~~

An eerie quietness fell over the neighborhood as I closed my car door. The quiet thumps of my boots hitting the broken slabs of concrete sidewalk were the only noise that could be distinctly heard. It had to be around 3 a.m by now but I wouldn’t of known since my phone was currently smashed to piece's on my living room floor. Pulling my leather jacket closer to my body to help keep out the chill, I neared my destination. About a block away at the end of the almost abandoned street sat a fairly new looking home surrounded by cars and motorcycles. A warm almost inviting glow was hidden behind the closed curtains that framed the windows. A soft buzz of chatter could be heard as I got closer. Carefully maneuvering my way through the vehicles, I stopped and stood at the bottom of the steps that led up to the door and front porch. Damn. I haven’t been here in years but everything still seemed familiar. I still knew every inch of this house as if it were my own which it basically was to my 16 year old self, but now it was all just a distant memory. Taking a deep breathe, I reluctantly made my way up the steps. My boots sounded heavy against the newly placed wood, no doubt alerting everyone inside that someone was out here. Pulling open the screen door that was the only thing separating me from my past, I raised my arm and moved my clenched hand forward. Only to stop mere centimeters from the wooden door. I should of just called, I thought to myself. There was no need to do this face to face, yet here I was. No more hesitating. I have to do this. I need to do this. Taking another deep breath and rolling my shoulders back to relaxed slightly, I brought up my knuckles banged them against the cold wooden door. Knocking hard three times, I backed up slightly and harded my facial expression. Game face. The chatter inside died down alittle and the sound of footsteps were nearing the door. As the lockes clicked unlocked, my breath hitched when realization finally kicked in. Here goes nothing. The door was swung open and the familiar scent hit me like a ton of bricks but I quickly pulled myself together, pushing back any emotions that dared to break the surface. Looking back at me curiously stood someone I’ve never seen before. He looked pretty young and old at the same time, had to be no more then 17. His scruff aged him more than it should of but his baby face showed his youth. The jet black hair of his layed messily underneath the hood that was lazily thrown up. His bright green eyes were shinning as if he was just laughing hysterically at something. The throat being cleared from this unknown boy helped regain my attention when he caught he taking in his features.

“Can I help you?” His deep voice rang out into the air as his eyes narrowed in on me. Mentally clearing my mind and straightening up slightly to help with the height disadvantage I was at, I began to speak. 

“You can help me by stepping aside and letting me in.” I said emotionless.

"And why would I do that?" He said leaning into the door frame as he crossed his arms.

"Because I said so. So move." I said getting slightly annoyed.

"Yeah. Okay." He said stepping back as if he was about to let me walk in, only to shove me back by my shoulder and began to close the door. Okay, I wont play nice then. Kicking my leg out to stop the door from closing, I pushed myself inside. Taken back from my sudden aggressiveness, he quickly put himself inbetween me and the destination i seeked.

“You have about 5 seconds to get off the property or you’ll regret it, little one.” He said down to me.

"Little one?” I repeated quietly as I moved in closer to him, dangerously close. Lifting up my hand, I gently traced my finger down his jawline stopping at his chin.

“Oh honey the only little one here is you.” I said grabbing the collar of his hoodie and pulling him out of the doorway and onto the ground of the porch.

“Word of advice, never threaten me again. Or you’ll regret it.” I hissed at him. As I walked in, memories began to flow. Everything looked fairly the same, some changes had occured throughout the years though. New furniture, fresh layer of paint on the walls, pictures in picture frames taken out and replaced with new memories. A loud familiar laugh soon invaded my ears as it came from where the living room should be, unless that changed too. Before I could chicken out and run away, my feet were already reluctantly  moving me in that direction. Fast and loud footsteps were heading my way as I made my way ddeeper inside, no doubt from the boy I just met. When his figure emerged from the corner and spotted me, he lunged forward and tried to grab my arms only to be kneed in the groin and pushed onto the floor. This small commotion caused everyone to turn from their spots on the couches and look at the noise. Confused and shocked faces met my hardened one as they spotted me. No one said anything, just stared back with blank expressions, except for a brunette whose tits were basically pouring out of her tank top.

“Who the hell are you?” She said standing up from the recliner. Before she could take a step forward the arm from the guy next to her shot out infront of her to stop her from moving closer. She looked up confused as to why she was halted and was about to say something but the sound of glass breaking beat her to it. Looking to my right to where the shatter came from I saw a familiar face. My heart skipped a beat in excitement as my eyes connected with his. 

“Y/n?” He said in pure and utter shock. A smile spread across my lips as I closed the distance between us and ran into his arms. A few seconds later after his mind click on and realized I was real, he returned my hug and held me tight against him. I don't know what came over me to run into his arms like that but I was secretly happy I did. I hadn’t even noticed a single tear left my eyes until we broke apart to get a good look at one another when he quickly swiped it off my face. 

“Ethan.” I said breathlessly. His small smile grew bigger as he released me from his grasp. Our little moment was ruined by a deep groan from behind me, turning around I completely forgot about the boy I kneed a moment ago.

“What happened to you?” Ethan asked as he peered past me. The boy didn’t say anything instead just pointed at me instead. 

“She did this? Y/n, you’ve been here for not even 5 minutes and are already causing trouble.” He teased.

“What can I say, trouble seems to follow me. In my defense he didnt let me inside when I was being nice then he threatened me then basically came at me so he’s lucky all he got was a kick to the balls.” I said blankly.

“Still got it I see. Attitude and all.” He laughed.

“Kinda hard to forget. Blame it on the muscle memory.” I joked. Ethan rolled his eyes and bent down to pick up the glass from his cup he broke. Someone else I didnt know got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen to get a broom.

“Damn y/n in the flesh. Never a sight I thought we’d ever see again.” A voice said behind me. I turned around just in time to see two large bodies come hurling at me, wrapping me up in their arms and squishing me between them. I laughed shortly but quickly was over the unwelcomed contact, getting irrated and began pushing them off of me.

“No more y/n sandwhich!” I said facing them. 

“Aw c'mon y/n/n, you know you love it. Being between me and Russ is a fantasy of yours, we know it.” Tyler joked as he smirked at me. Roaming my eyes over their body, I couldn’t help but take in the sight in front of me. Definitely not those scrawny 17 year old boys I once knew. Fully grown men now stood in front of me with toned muscle flexing underneath their too tight of a shirt, jeans perfectly wrapped around there muscular legs. Rolling my eyes at his comment, I gave them a small smile in return trying not to crack too much and show my soft. Standing back, I began to take in the new faces around us. A few of the guys that were sitting on the couch watching everything unfold in front of them looked to be around our age while the other 3 relaxing in the floor looked to be in their late teens just like the boy I met at the door. Awkwardly standing around waiting for Ethan to return, my eeyes fell onto a specific spot of the leather couch.

"Take a load off y/n." Russ said taking his previous spot on the couch across the room. Slowly walking to the couch, I hesitantly fell back into the only familar couch that still sat against the wall. It was still in the perfect position to see the TV and best spot to get to the kitchen and bathroom. Taking a seat in the only spot where I ever sat. My spot. The left corner next to the table. Closing my eyes and letting my head fall back onto the couch, I let out a deep sigh and surprisingly allowed myslef to relax into the familiarity. I was brought back to reality from an obnoxiously loud laugh. Ethan was making his way over to me with two beers carefully hheld in his fingers. Putting out his hand for me to take one, e rose his eyebrow when I hesitantly took it from him. He sat down next to me as he laughed quietly and shook his head.

“It’s as if you never left.” He said taking a swing of his beer.

"Oh but thank god I did." I replied under my breath as I took a sip of my beer. Wincing at the strange taste I took my lips of the bottle.

“What the f-. Light beer?” I said looking over at Ethan.

"Yep. We’re trying to maintain our amazing bodies and beer doesnt really help. It was Grays idea.” Ethan said nonchalantly. Tensing up at his name I remembered the main reason I was here. I knew I was going to let myself get caught up with all the reminiscing and comfortiblilty that I would forgot the only reason I even came back here. Noticing my uncomfortably state he gave me a sympathetic look which I didn't like at all. Pushing all flashbacks and feelings away, I refocused myself. 

“Where is he E?” I asked not looking up from the spot on the floor I was staring a hole in.

“Around. He was pissed at everyone and everything earlier. Left in a rage. Wouldn't even talk to Hailey.” He said avoiding looking at me after the last sentence left his lips. 

“Hailey?” I asked looking up at him. He motioned over to the kitchen with his beer, ignoring my stare. Following the direction he motioned with, my eyes met the backside of the brunette from before. Her bootyshorts road up her ass showing alittle too much booty. 

“Figures.” I laughed as I downed my beer. Ethan laughed at my remark and silently agreed with a simple head nod. 

“But seriously Eth, where is he? I didn’t just come here to take a trip down memory lane.” I said looking at him.

"Then why are you here?” A deep voice asked from the other side of the room. Freezing up instantly at the sound of his voice, I mentally cursed at myself for letting him take my by surprise and make me feel how I was. An overly excited squeal sounded out from the kitchen followed by footsteps.

“Baby!” The brunettes, or known as Haileys voice broke out into the silence that now hung in the air. From the corner of my eye I saw him quickly dismiss her as he walked closer to us. I smirked inwardly a little but instantly dropped it to remain my neutral look. Giving myself a small pep talk, I reluctantly rotated in my spot and faced him. As soon as my eyes hit his hazel ones, I knew I was a goner. So many emotions flowed through my body at once, I didnt know which one to react with first. Neither of us said anything as we stared at eachotheer allowing the tension to grow in the air. Ethan put a reassuring hand on my thigh to help edge me on, in which Grayson quickly took noticed of right away and narrowed his eyes. Noticing the slight change in his demeanor, I pushed Ethan’s hand off of me like it was on fire. Standing up and placing my beer on the table I stood face to face with him.

“Grayson." I said emotionless as my nails dug into the palm of my hand to help me not shake. Somehow his expression hardened at the sound of his name slipping past my lips.

“Why are you here?” He asked sternly boring his eyes into me as he crossed his arms against his broad chest making his muscle’s flex. In any other moment I would of been drooling over the pure sexual power oozing from him in that tight black shirt but I knew what he was doing. He was trying to intimidate me.

"We need to talk.” I said steadily. He made no advancement to reply or pay any attention to my request. Looking to my side where Ethan sat, I gave him a look we used to share many times when Grayson was being difficult. Grayson was quick to take notice of the smiles that threaten to spread on mine and Ethans face. An animalistic like growl escaped his lips making my head snap towards him.

"Don't even." I warned. That sound was all too familiar to me from the countless fights between me and him or whenever his overprotectness would emerge.

“Excuse me?” He said harshly taking a long stride towards me. Challenging him was one thing he had always told me he admired about me but it always pissed him off none the less. When he was in arms length distance of me and made no motion to be stopping anytime soon, I extended my arm out as it collided with his hard warm chest. At the mere contact he stopped all movement.

“Let's be civil. Talk like the adults we are, or well how I am. I dont know about you.” I sassed as I removing my hand off his chest.

“Im busy.” He said coldly pushing past me. Grabbing at his bicep and turning him around to face I gave him a hard look. I heard someone intake a hard breath as they watched me man handle him.

“Grayson Bailey! If it wasn’t important I wouldn’t of dragged myself back into this shithole.” I said angrily at his childish antics which earned a couple of defensive ‘heys’ from the boys.

“Shithole? Well this 'shithole' used to be your home.” He scuffed and pulled his arm out of my grasp.

“Gray, please.” I said as it came out barely above a whisper. Looking up at him, I noticed he was already staring down at me with an unreadable expression. He narrowed his eyes at me and knitted his eyebrows together as if he was thinking. Then in a blink of an eye, wrapped his large hand around my wrist and pulled me behind him without another word. 

“But baby-” An annoying whine called out from close behind us as we walked out of the living room. Grayson stopped mid step, making me inconveniently slam into his back and instinctively wrapping my freed arm around his waist. He didnt turn around but just turned his head back slightly to look at Hailey. 

“Leave us alone. I’ll deal with you later.” He said as he contiuned to walk and head towards the stairs. Ethan was causally leaned up against the wall no doubt waiting for us when he finally spoke.

“Gray man, let’s take a second to calm down. No need to be rash.” He said calmly as he tried to reach for my wrist in Graysons grasp. Grayson pushed him back slightly as he brought me forward so my back was now securely pressed up against his chest with his arm holding me in place by my waist. As soon as Ethan took in the expression Grayson was giving him and my knowingful gaze, he lifted his hands up in surrender and backed away back into the living room. He knew how things were going to get settled between us and as soon as Grayson and I had made eye contact but he hoped it wouldn't. Ethan would never admit it but he was always proud and happy for me when I finally left because he knew I could finally be who I wanted to be and reach my full potential instead of being stuck here and never see what the world had to offer. Without warning Grayson quickly rushed up the stairs with me in his arm, almost making me fall over my own damn feet.

“Fuck Grayson, I can walk on my own!” I said pushing myself out of his grasps. He ignored my whine and walked to the far end of the hallway where his bedroom still sat. Following him towards his room, he waited for me to get inside then slammed the door shut. 

“Talk.” He said harshly as he walked into his large walkin closet, stripping himself from his shirt and throwing it a basket in the process. He walked back out a few moments later in a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips and a t-shirt thrown over his shoulder. If I say so myself he has definitely been keeping his body in check. 

“Sit.” He said pointing to his bed as he pulled on his shirt. 

“No. Do I look like a dog?” I said crossing my arms and leaning back against the door.

“Did it fucking sound like an option? And well you are a bitch.” He said as he grabbed my arm and pushed me onto his bed.

“If you keep manhandling me, I’ll swear I’ll chop of your dick Dolan.” I said glaring up at him as I sat up from my thrown position. All he did was roll his eyes and make his way over the the desk that sat in the far corner near to the window. I noticed a small digital clock that sat on the desk and it read 4:45 a.m. Letting out a breath I didn't realized I had held in, all the exhaustion I have been holding back seemed to finally release myself as I let myself fall back into the bed. 

“I said sit, not lay.” He said still facing away from me.

“Never listened to you before so why start now.” I said rolling onto my side to face his direction. He was looking at paper work that was scattered on top of the desk when he felt my gaze on him, making him twist around and looked at me. He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts as he watched me. His face seemed to soften up somewhat before it disappeared and he turned around.

“Don’t lay like that.” He said bringing his attention back to the papers in front of him.

“Lay like what? I’m literally just laying down.” I said annoyed as I sat up. 

“Like you used to when I worked. Like you belong there, in my bed.” He said as his shoulders drooped..

"But Hailey can lay in your bed because she belongs here right?” I said surprising myself at the petty jealousy that was laced in my voice. He had stopped moving as his back muscles tensed back up. 

“She doesn’t come in my room. She especially does not lay in my bed.” He replied. Feeling somewhat satisfied with his answer, I took a moment to look around the room. It was pretty much the same. All the same furniture was still there just moved around, shelves still held the same objects, clothes were still all over the floor. His bed side table still held my initials I had carved in many years ago so that any girl he brought home after me would know hes will always be mine. Reaching out to touch my engraved initials, memories of that day flowed back.

"What are you doing." Graysons voice said startling me slightly.

"Nothing." I replied as I moved my book over the small scratches.

"Baby, guilt is written all over your face." He said walking into his room and over to where I layed. Staring down at me, he tried to pick out any sign as to what I was just doing. When my eyes twitch to the left a little his gaze followed as he investigated the side table. He noticed the small curved wood scraps from when I removed them with his switch blade. Pushing the only thing on the table to the side he stared down at my initial for my first name on it.

"What were you doing?" He asked. Some anger rushed through him at the thought of you ruining his furniture but he was also very curious.

"I was engraving my initials." I said making eye contact with his beautiful hazel orbs.

"Why?" His deep voice asked.

"So that any girl you bring into your bedroom after me knows that you will always be mine." I said staring at my unfinished job. He stayed quiet after my little jealous explosion and simply grabbed his switch blade that was closed up in my hand and contiuned to carve my last names initial in right next to me first.

"No girl will ever come in here after you cause your it for me." He said leaning down and cupping my face gently in his hands. Smiling up at him, I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him down towards me. His soft lips met mine as a smile broke out from him.

Getting brought back from my flashback from his gaze I could feel on me as I mindlessly traced over the edged markings, I knew he felt that same way I did. Dangerous waters we were treading. The possibility of opening up wounds that have been healed up for the past four years was closer then I wanted. Sighing, I lifted myself up off the bed and walked over to where he was standing. Reaching into my pocket to grab the reason I was here, I unfolded it and layed it out infront of him. He quickly grabbed it as he read it over and spun around to face me. 

“Where did you get this.” His asked as his voice came out strained as if he was trying to hold his emotions back. 

“It was in my apartment, attached to this.” I said pulling out the picture I had in my other pocket. He grabbed the photo from my hands and stared down at it before snapping his head up to look at me.

“Im serious. Tell me where you got this y/n.” He said a little more louder this time.

“In my apartment! On my fucking cutting bored with a knife stabbed throught them." I replied annoyed. He ran his fingers through his hair and pushed past me.

“Don’t fucking play games!” He yelled as he turned to face me. His face was slightly red and his muscle’s were really protruding. 

“Play games?! Are you fucking kidding me? Do you think I would of came back here if I was 'playing games'. The last place I would ever want to be is back here with you.” I yelled at him as I clenched and unclenched my fists at my side. He seemed slightly taken back by my outburst but quickly stiffened back up as he dropped the paper and photo on the bed and walked over to his dresser. After rummaging through one of the draws, he pulled out a metal box and brought it over. Opening it up he dumped out all of the piece’s of paper that were held with in. Looking down at them, I noticed they all had the same thing written on all of them in the same hand writing.

What’s poor old Grayson Dolan without his girl? And I don’t mean that little whore you’ve been keeping around. How’s y/n? She looks good, too good. Makes me want to have her squirming underneath me as she cried out in pain.

They were all similar to the note I got. Same messy hand writing and same type of paper, but my referred to Grayson and told me things werent as they seemed also mine came along with a picture of Gray and I when we had to be around 18 years old, sitting outside on the porch with me on his lap. Honestly I didn’t know what to say. Grayson had physical hand written threats targeted against me and decide to just keep it a secret. As soon as I saw the note and pitcure at my place, I was in the car making the 3 ½ hour drive over here without thinking but he didn’t even think to even pick up the phone to tell me.

“How- how long have you had these?” I said looking at the piece’s of paper as a moment of silence fell over us.

“A couple months. I recieved some pictures too of you, they looked recent.” He said unbothered. 

“What?! A couple months? You've received threats against me for months and got pictures of me recently? Are you fucking kidding me? Did you even think to tell me or was the small brain of yours too stupid and thought ’oh I better not tell y/n cause im a selfish dumbass and only does whats best for me, fuck y/n right? Who cares what happens to her’.” I yelled at him. He stood there taking my yelling with a clenched his jaw then began putting the papers back into the box along with my note and my picture. Once everything was put away he turned to walk back to his dresser.

“Stop ignoring me! What th-” I began to yell but he interrupted me by the loud sound of him slamming the dresser draw close.

“IM NOT FUCKING IGNORING YOU! If you would shut up for just a goddamn second and let me talk then you would of found out I handled the fucking situation already!” He screamed back at me. As he took a step forward I took one back. I wasnt necessarily afraid of him but I knew he was unpredictable when he was mad.

“What do you mean took care of it? Cause from where Im standing it looks like you didnt.” I said. 

“When I said I took care of it, I took care of it.” He said walking towards his door and opening it up.

“Now get out and leave.” He spat out at me. 

“You're joking right?” I asked in disbelief. Shaking my head I stood up but didnt make a move towards the door.

“After all these years I really would of thought that ego of yours would of actually shrunk but damn was I wrong. 'I took care of it'. What type of shady crap are you back into now? Or did you never leave that part of your life behind like you always promised you would. Cause from what I remember you told me you stopped working for those guys only for me to find you beating some guy almost to death a week later over some money he owed you. Then on top of all that bullshit I found out you had your own little gang and BROUGHT ETHAN INTO IT! And we all know how that ended, don’t we Grayson.” I said as anger rose in me. He looked over at me from the spot on the wall hes been staring at and I could of sworn his eyes darkened. 

"You're the one who left. You walked away. I was done with all of that shit then you left.” He said dangerously low as he stalked towards me.

“And why do you think I left? Huh? Maybe cause I was tired of you lying to me, coming back home at ungodly times of the night, bruises all over, money just coming in from nowhere, PEOPLE TRYING TO GET TO YOU THROUGH ME. The list goes on and on! Remember Marcus? What happened there? Who’s fault was that? Who’s fault was it when I was in the hospital for three goddamn days because of a fucking gun shot wound? Huh? I was FUCKING 17 FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! I missed most of my stupid senior year because of you. I didn’t go to prom because of you! Couldn’t go to graduation! I almost didnt get the chance TO GO FUCKING COLLEGE BECAUSE OF YOU! My own parents basically disowned me when they found out I got pregant with your baby only to have that fucking miscarriage. I gave up my entire life for you. So dont you fucking stand there trying to acting all innocent and try to blame anything on me. I left because loving you was the DUMBEST DECISION I had ever made!” I yelled. I didnt even notice the tears that were falling down my face until my eyes became so blurry I couldn’t see. I reluctantly let out a loud whimper as a pair of arms wrapped around me and held me against its chest.

“No! Get away from me. I hate you! I hate you.” I said as I punched at his chest and tried to get away. Memories I hadn’t thought about in years kept flooding my mind as I cried hysterically into Graysons chest. The whole house stood quiet expect for my loud uncontrollable sobs. I had soon forgotten that the door was wide open and that everyone obviously had to of heard everything, which made me cry even more. Soon later my sobs quiet down and the tears dried up but my body was drained emotionally and physically. I felt Graysons grasp loosen slightly on me but still held me close as he gently removed my jacket. In one swift motion he had me up in his arms then placed me gently into the middle of his bed. Removing my boots, he pulled up the blanket that was draped messily on his bed and placed it comfortably on top of me. When he was about to pull away, something in me reached out to grab his arm and pull him slightly towards me. He pulled away lightly to much of my dismay as he walked away and closed the door. I thought he had left but soon the lights were shut off and the corner of the blanket lifted up from behind me. Once he was settled in and somewhat relaxed I scooted back trying to get some sort of body contact I was craving at the moment. To my surprise he was on his side facing me so that when I wiggled back his chest was pressed up against my back. He stiffened up at the contact and didnt dare move so I reached behind me, grabbing at his free arm and wrapped it around me. He quickly relax into my touch and tightened his grip around me bringing me close to him. 

"Gray..” I whispered as my eyes stung from the tears forming again. He quietly hushed me and kissed the top of my head as he pulling me closer into him. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks and from the wetness on the back of my neck and uneven breathing in my ear. I could tell he was crying as well. 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly and he hugged me closer soon lulling us both to sleep.

[littlebitoffanfic]

Pretty Little Thing

Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy Characters: Kraglin Relationship: Kraglin/reader Request: Would you write something for Kraglin from gotg? Like he always brings you little things and its his birthday and you make him something and it leads to the reader confessing somehow but alittle angsty ? AN: I, personally, do a lot of crochet so this is what ive used 😊 Also, this kinda got away from me. You skipped through the halls of the ships, the gift grasped in your hands. You had joined the crew after Yondu hired you because of you hacking skills. You could go unnoticed by many as you silently hacked into their systems and stole their information, money and identity. It was a skill you had used only on your own, until you ran into Yondu at a bar. He said he needed information that only you could get and you agreed to take the job. That was over a year ago and you had never left. Yondu was as surprised as you were by how well you fit into the crew and how much the crew admired and respected you (after having to make an example of one who thought you couldn’t fight). One job lead to another lead to another and you couldnt see it ending any time soon. Not that you wanted it too. You loved it on the ship and you loved your new friends. There was one who stood out though. Right from the start, Kraglin had stolen your heart. He towered over you but never used that height to intimidate you. He often stood up for you and protected you where he could. Because you worked very closely with him and Yondu, the two of you were often up late together and had a very good bond. Something that was only cemented when he would bring you little bits and bobs back from missions. For the most part, you stayed out of missions unless you had to go. But every time, without fail, you would get a knock on your quarters door and he stand there with something held out in his hand. Some times it was a piece of jewellery, sometimes a new item of clothing or a scarf, sometimes a little knickknack. You’d blush but throw you arms around him and thank him. It was sweet. Something about him thinking about you enough to go out of his way to bring you something made your heart beat quickly in your chest. You stopped at his quarters, biting your lower lip as you reached out and knocked on the door. “Who is it?” you heard Kraglin call out, sounding a little exasperated to be bothered but you knew it wasn’t personal. You held the present behind your back. “[y/n].” You replied, giggling when you heard a large thud and you could imagine him scrambling to get to the door. “[y/n]! Whats wrong?” He pulled the door open to show he had discarded his large jacket and only wore a white teeshirt and trousers. “Does something have to be wrong for me to visit my favourite Ravenger on his birthday?” You ask, cocking your head to one side. Suddenly, a hand grabbed your free wrist and you were pulled inside as you giggled. None of the Ravengers really celebrated birthdays because the other often take to punching the living daylihts out of the person. “How did you know?” He hisses, sounding a little scared but not meaning anything mean by it. “Please, Kraglin. Its my job to know and find out everything.” You giggled, raising your eyebrow at him as you stepped closer and then extended the hand with the present in it. “Whats that?” He asked, staring at the present in confusion. “It’s a present!” You let out a laugh at how innocent he was. “For me?” “No, I thought id wave it in your face before giving it to Yondu.” You rolled your eyes, your voice dripping in sarcasm. “Of course for you!” You giggled. Kraglin slowly reached for the gift, seemingly unable to believe it was truly for him. He took the soft gift in his hand, admiring the wrapping and how nicely you had written his name on the tag. Not only that, but he noticed you’d signed it “love, [y/n]” which made his heart beat quickly in his chest. He took the small tag off and placed it carefully on the side, wanting to keep it for later. you were nearly bouncing on your toes as he ever so slowly and carefully opened the wrapping to show a dark red handmade scarf. He dropped the wrapping to the ground as he takes the soft scarf in both his hands. “I made it.” You smiled, stepping closer as Kraglin as he looked up at you, his eyes wide. “really?” He said in disbelief. “Yeah, I wanted to find something to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and for all the little gifts you get me. And I crochet in my spare time. So I thought id make you something.” You shrug, a little embarrassed you were admitting your hobby to him. You’d always thought that crochet and knitting was for old ladies and not the sort of hobby you wanted to boast about to the crew. “Thank you.” He smiles and he looks from you to the scarf and you could see a small ting of pink in his cheeks. you adored him. You truly did. It was so hard to put into words how much he brightened up your day, how much you enjoyed his company and how special you felt around him. He truly treated you like you were a queen, something no other man had ever done. A thought popped into your mind and you bit down on your lower lip. “Kraglin?” You almost whisper, drawing his attention to you. “Yeah?” he answered. You gently placed your hands under his and moved them down as you stepped closer. “Happy birthday.” You whispered as you leaned up and pressed you lips to his. Despite the roughness of his stubble, his lips were surprisingly soft, warm and oh so intoxicating. You felt him drop the scarf to the floor as his hands reached for you, gently grabbing your waist and pulling you closer as he kissed you with such passion it made you head spin. your hands reached to rest on his shoulders and you slowly kissed each other, your heart beating hard in your chest. But then he froze under your touch and you pulled back. “You should go.” He suddenly said, not looking at you as he pulled away and turned so his back was to you. “w-what?” you gasped, still breath-taken from that kiss. God, it made your head spin and your knees weak. “Go.” He said in a dejected voice as he kept away from you. “Kraglin.” You spoke in a soft tone despite how hard you heart was breaking. “I-im sorry for kissing you.” you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, felling his muscles tense under your touch. Your eyes started to water and you blinked hard to supress the tears that started to slid down your cheek. “im sorry. I-“ you trailed off, unable to bring yourself to say anything else to him as you backed away from him. You’d ruined it. In a brash moment of love, you had ruined the friendship that had existed between you both. Turning on your heel, you fled from the room in tears. ---------------time skip ------------------------- You never saw Kraglin wear the scarf you made him. Even when they went to planets that were frozen or when the heating stopped working on the ship. Never. You always wore thing he brought you. That wasn’t the only thing that broke your heart. Since that night, he had distanced himself from you, barely talking to you unless it was essential. as you walked the fimiluar hallways, hating Yondu. He had told you to go tell Kraglin that he needed some of the items from the last raid checked for value and that Kraglin should look into it before tomorrow. Yondu insisted you go and tell him. But it was late and most the crew were in bed which meant Kraglin should be in his. You had to take deep breaths before you approached and knocked on his door, only to be met with silence. You knocked again and again until you gently called out his name, pushing the door open. You were surprised it was unlocked which meant he was either inside or just had to leave quickly. Stepping into the room, you scan over the furniture, bed and bathroom to see that he wasn’t there. You were about to leave, when your eyes spotted something red pocking out from the black bedding. Stepping closer, you pushed the pillow back to see the scarf you had made Kraglin was under his pillow along with the tag with your writing on it. Kraglin had many hiding places in the room, including a few lose floor board so why would he stuff your scarf and tag under his pillow. Before you could think of anything else, you heard footsteps outside, so you quickly replaced the pillow and darting to the middle of the room just as Kraglin rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks. “I was just looking for you.” he stated. “oh, me too!” you tried to sound happy, to sound like being in the room with him wasn’t killing you. “Why?” He asked, cocking his head to the side a little. “Yondu wanted you to look over some cargo from the last raid and see if theres anything else valuable before tomorrow.” You explained. “Why were you looking for me?” “I-I got you this.” He stuttered, holding out his palm to present you with a beautiful, sparkling bracelet. It was scrunched up in his palm slightly, but you could see the intricate details of the diamonds around the outside. you stepped closer, about to reach out and examine the bracelet when you caught yourself and stepped back. “I cant accept it.” You lowered your eyes, not daring to look at him. Never had you rejected a gift from him. “What? Why?” he asked, his voice filled with panic as he stepped closer to you. “Because, because I-“ You trailed off, unable to look at him. “It doesn’t feel right.” You finally finished. “No, it doesn’t.” he agreed, taking you complete by surprise. “what?” Your voice showed how hurt you were by his words. You assumed he meant what had happened between you two. “You should be kissin’ some duke or some shit. Not making out with a ravanger.” He shook his head, starting to turn away from you, stuffing the bracelet in his pocket. “Excuse me? Im a Ravenger!” You point out. “You really don’t think im part of the crew?” “Nah, nah you’re too pretty.” He shook his head again. “Ravengers don’t get pretty things.” As he spoke, you heard the pure sadness, loneliness and defeat in his voice as he fully turned away from you. “Kraglin-“ You placed your hands on his back, your voice breaking as you processed what he was saying. You leaned your head against his back, closing your eyes as you let a single tear fall from your eyes. You heart was breaking. Did he really feel this way about himself? “you should go.” His voice hit you like a cold wind. He didn’t even move, just stood there as if he had no energy left in him. “Please don’t do this again.” You mumbled, your voice cracking again, but this time, he knew it was from crying. “[y/n], you deserve better.” His voice cracked, making you jump a little. You had never heard him like this. “Kraglin. Stop it!” you tried to sound strong but sounded more like you were pleading or begging him. “is that why you’ve been pushing me away since I kissed you?” You opened your eyes but didn’t move from where you were. It felt a lot easier to not look at him right now. “I aint- I don’t- I-“ He stammered on, seemingly unable to find the right words. Closing your eyes once more, you took a long breath. “I cant help falling in love with you.” You finally confessed in little more than a whisper. You wondered if he even heard but then you felt his whole body tense and he stood bolt up right. You stepped back, opening your eyes so you could look up at him as he twisted around. “Yah-yah love me?” he stammered, his pale blue eyes wide. “Yeah.” Was all you could mumble, looking into his eyes as your heart beat hard in your chest. There was a tense moment where you couldn’t even breath as he stared at you. Then something inside him broke. He darted forward and grabbed your waist. You were pulled against his chest and his lips smashed against yours. Unlike before when the kiss was sweet and somewhat inexperienced, this time it was tense, passionate and heartfelt. you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as you pressed your body against his. Your hands travel up the back of his neck, feeling him shudder slightly at the feeling, and into his hair. Or what little there was on the top of his head. In truth, you just didn’t want him to pull away again. This kiss, like before, was intoxicating and you didn’t know if you could cope with losing him again. Suddenly, you were lifted up. You gasped into the kiss but when you felt his arms securely around you, you wrapped your legs around his torso for support as he pushed you up against the wall. Your gasp broke the kiss but it seemed like Kraglin couldn’t get enough as he instantly moved to your neck, kissing the area. You moaned and tilted your head to the side, encouraging him to continue. “Pretty little thing like you lovin’ someone like me?” He mumbled against your skin and you felt him smile slightly. “I wont care if you were a god or a criminal, I’d still love you.” You breathed, loving how easy this felt. “Good thing. Cause we are criminals.” Kraglin pulled back to look in your eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh, pulling a hand back from him to cover your mouth. It felt so nice to just be with him. Even taking away the kiss and the position you were in, it was nice to have him speaking to you. Your laugher died and you leaned forward to kiss him sweetly. He smiled into the kiss and you could feel his heart was beating just as quickly as yours was in your chest. “I love yah.” His voice was low, nearly a whisper against your lips, making you freeze up. He felt the change and pulled back a little, looking at your eyes with fear. As if he thought you might have hated hearing those words fall from his lips. “Really?” You couldn’t help but ask as you felt a smile pulling at your lips. “’course. Since I first laid eyes on yah.” His lips twitched as a smile came to his lips. You threw yourself forward, feeling the same urge he must have felt when you confessed. You felt like you needed to kiss him more than you needed to breath. And he was more than happy to comply with your silent request. “Stay?” He whispered against your lips, only pulling back to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed. He cheeks started to glow a soft shade of blue, making you giggle. “I don’t think I could leave anyway.” You giggled, running your fingers across his cheek. He smiled and leaned back in for a kiss. his eyes snapped open and he pulled back suddenly, glancing at the bed. “Uh, do -do you need to go grab things from your room?” He stuttered, glancing over at his bed then back to you when he heard you giggling. “Why? So you can remove the scarf I made you from under your pillow?” You ask, raising your eyebrow at him slightly but unable to stop the soft giggles. “Ho-how’dya-“ he Sputtered. “I came in and the sleeve was sticking out. I thought id investigate.” You shrug, a little embarrassed at having to admit to finding it but not as embarrassed as he felt. “I thought I’d lost you. It was… it was from you.” Kraglin tried to explain but failed at making it sound any less creepy in his mind. But in yours, you adored the thought that he needed you close, even if it was only a small item from you. “Well, maybe you can put the scarf in your draw and I can replace it.” You lean forward, playful knocking his nose with yours. “You don’t have to make me another scarf.” He frowned a little, confused. “That’s not what I meant.” You winked, biting your lower lip to stop the chuckle escaping your lips as you watched the realisation dawn on him. “Ah.” Was all he said as his cheeks started to burn blue. You smiled, your heart jumping at the sight and you wanted nothing more that to see that colour dawn his cheeks more often. Maybe it happened during sex? You quickly shook the thought as your own cheeks light up red at the thought of Kraglin over you, his cheeks blue and his mouth open in pleasure. “oh! I forgot.” He jumped and placed you down the floor before reaching into his pocket and bringing out the bracelet. You couldn’t help but smile as he took each end in his hands and held it out to you. You raised your right hand and he wrapped it around your wrist, closing it. “I’ll have to get you more pretty things.” You mumbled, your left hand moving so you could run your fingers over the jewellery. “Nah, I get you pretty things, cause you’re my pretty thing.” Kraglin mumbled, leaning forward and kissing your forward. You couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your lips. “Why don’t you come back to mine with me? Save’s making two trips.” You ask, not wanting to separate from him for long. “As long as yer in my arms, I don’t care.” He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you. His pretty little thing.

[yeoldontknow]

Wings

Author’s Note: lord i didnt think id be writing this so soon but ive been so soft (tm) and pcy has been doing the most(tm) so here we are i guess. this is the first part of his Did You See story. im weak as hell lmao Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Summary: Chanyeol is your best friend and travel buddy. Everywhere you go, he falls a little bit more in love with you. Eventually, he tells you why he goes everywhere with you - just you.  Genre: fluff; angst Rating: PG-13 Warnings: some swearing Word Count: 5,356

Yeolo sent a Photo Yeolo[12:04 AM]: LOOK!!! YN[12:05 AM]: this is shockingly neat YN[12:06 AM]: im stunned Yeolo[12:06 AM]: :< Yeolo[12:07 AM]: i am neat :< YN[12:08 AM]: youre like… YN[12:09 AM]: slightly organized chaos Yeolo[12:10 AM] - Message sent with Confetti: CHAOS

Yeolo[12:11 AM]: do you like how i rolled my shirts ! YN[12:12 AM]: im mostly impressed with how fucking many you fit in there Yeolo[12:13 AM]: WELL!! Yeolo[12:14 AM]: you know different shirts for different moods… Yeolo[12:14 AM]: weather YN[12:15 AM]: IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS?? Yeolo[12:15 AM]: WAT WAT YN sent a Photo with Mark Up Yeolo[12:16 AM]: YES YES THE HOODIE HE IS COMING YN[12:17 AM]: I AM STEALING HIM ON DAY 2 AND YOU WILL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN Yeolo[12:18 AM]: *frowns loudly* he YN[12:19 AM] - Message sent with Celebration: his butt is mine Yeolo[12:20 AM]: do you still heave beat it in your head from JDs party???? YN[12:21 AM]: listen if i have to suffer with it YN[12:21 AM]: you have to suffer with me Yeolo[12:22 AM]: yikes YN[12:24 AM]: are you taking any converters? Yeolo[12:24 AM]: yeah you can use mine YN[12:25 AM]: yay! Yeolo[1:06 AM]: are you nervous? Yeolo[1:07 AM]: wait are you up Yeolo[1:08 AM]: im nervous but idk why YN[1:09 AM]: im up. i wouldnt say im nervous weve done this a million times YN[1:10 AM]: i just dont like flying very much Yeolo[1:11 AM]: no one really likes flying Yeolo[1:12 AM]: but ill hold your hand the whole time YN[1:13 AM] - Message sent with Love: u Yeolo[1:13 AM] - Message sent with Fireworks: me Yeolo[1:15 AM]: can i come over? Yeolo[1:16 AM]: i sleep better next you YN[1:17 AM]: you haven't needed to ask for 5 years don't be a goose YN[1:18 AM]: but yes im too excited to sleep anyway Yeolo[1:19 AM]: ill bring my shit so we can just go to the airport together YN[1:20 AM]: key is under the mat. im getting your fave blanket out of the closet Yeolo[1:21 AM]: !!!! Yeolo[1:22 AM]: ill just take the spare toothbrush i have there with me instead of my good electric one YN[1:23 AM]: u is smert Yeolo[1:24 AM]: i be there in 10 minie YN[1:25 AM]: 10 MINIES!!!

Remaining in bed, you lay back and stare at the ceiling, heartbeat keeping time with the rain against your window. You think you love him most when he’s like this, needy and clingy and over excited. London was his idea, or maybe it was yours, or, possibly, you thought of it at the same time. It felt like it, the way you both talked excitedly on his couch eight months ago, bare feet battling for dominance on the tattered cushion. The way the words spilled eagerly from your mouths, the way he’d already Googled, and you’d already used your credit card points for airline tickets, it felt like you were connected, united.

Something as simple as this, as planning a trip, felt remarkable and exciting. The phrase ‘why don't we go’ igniting a fire in your veins, making the world sound sweeter just because he spun city names into gold against his tongue. Always, it’s like this with him, life becoming an thrilling bundle of possibility, filled with magic and wonder, and existing without obstacles. It’s like this with him because he makes it so, his mouth only ever giving you the best words and your heart unable to say no at the sight of his wide eyes.

Precisely ten minutes later, Chanyeol’s heavy feet resonate throughout the hall as he struggles up the stairs to your door. Already, between the plaster and the wood of your door, you can feel him, his energy permeating your space and making your heart feel heavy with want. The sound of him alone wakes you up, invigorates you, sending sparks along your skin that make you feel electric or magnetic, or maybe both.

After six years of knowing Chanyeol, learning his noise and learning his breath, you are skilled at discerning his mood from the sound of his steps. Tonight, he is elated, hurried in his movements and wholly unburdened by the weight of his suitcase, driven into a clamor by the force of his excitement. Tonight, he is humming, as quietly as he can, yet still his voice his a thunderclap, barreling through the walls and deep into your bloodstream. You don't recognize what he's humming, the sound slow and somber, but it sounds important, like he's very serious about getting the notes right, and you find yourself frowning when he stops, saddened by the loss of the his voice.

At the first sounds of the spare key sliding into the lock, you turn over in bed, making room for him on the mattress, in your life, in your body, ready to keep him with you for always. When he pushes through the door, clambering with his limbs and his bags, he releases a giddy sigh, an exclamation of relief that makes a smile spread across your lips. Keeping still, you listen as he moves through your house and into your kitchen with sure steps. He turns on the electric kettle, the one he bought your for Christmas three years ago. Rummaging through your cupboard, the one he helped you build, he pulls out mug with a happy chuckle. Something has amused him, and you swoon into the bed at the sound, pressing your head against your pillows with a sigh.

You know he thinks of this space as his, moves around it openly and possessively, because his memories exist within the paint and the furnishings just as much as yours. Not least because he spends the majority of his time in the space you occupy, your flat larger and quieter than his own, but because he was the one who found it for you. Because, when your life felt as though it was ending, he was the one who built it back up around you, with you, leaving his traces on all the new pieces.

It is not that you expected your relationship with Ethan to last forever, merely that, after Ethan, you thought there would be something. When you found Ethan in your bed with another woman, hands and mouth pulling at her skin as if he wanted to make a home of her body, you found you simply didn't want anything. His lies had reduced you to nothing and, while you knew it was not the case, you felt nothing was what you deserved forevermore.

For two weeks, you slept on Chanyeol's couch, curled into a ball and trying not to be a burden. For five more, you slept in his bed, neither sexual nor wanting it to be, simply because he said he wanted you comfortable. Then, he said it was because no one should cry alone. Then, and lastly, because he said he never felt comfortable without you beside him. Not anymore.

His hands shook when he showed you the advertisement, and you wondered why he was nervous. Looking at your feet and with his voice quite small, he said he didn't want you to think he was kicking you out. You said, ‘are you?’ And he just looked at you, suddenly the most serious you've ever seen him, and said, ‘I just want you to have something that's yours.’ Sincerity looked beautiful on Chanyeol, not that he was insincere, but this was transcendent. You felt him then, like a knife. You don't think you’ve stopped feeling him since.

He never really went home after you moved in, just brought an air bed and stayed with you until you could afford decent furniture. You cried a lot those first few days, scared but not alone, and wondering how you could, or would, cope with this sudden something. Chanyeol held you, tighter than usual, and didn't say anything just clung to you until you were tired and wholly exhausted from living. You think that was when his habit for humming started, those days when his voice was a comfort, a lullaby, and its sound evolving into something you felt belonged to you.

Painting the living room was your favourite day, the first day you ever saw him, really saw him. The paint on his cheek made him look wild, like he was at war with the wall and was trying to win you over. You didn't know how to tell him he'd already won. You think he won the day you met him, you just needed the world to take on better colours.

The sound of your door opening shakes you from your thoughts, and Chanyeol enters with a grin, hair messy and cheeks puffy from lack of sleep. He's arrived already in his pajamas, ready to be comfortable and ready to be near you, and you watch, turning the sheets over for him, as he climbs into the bed with careful placements of his limbs.

‘Here,’ he says, handing you a mug - his favourite, the one he leaves for himself.

Careful not to spill anything, you take it, letting your fingers graze momentarily to feel the spark once more, and smell its contents.

‘Is this chamomile?’

Chanyeol settles against the pillows with a hum, and turns onto his side to face you. ‘It’ll help you de-stress,’ he shrugs, before his hand snakes into the pocket of his hoodie. ‘I also got you this.’

He hands you something black, something plastic, and, in the dim light of the bedroom, it takes you a moment to recognize it.

‘A sleeping mask?’ You glance at him, confused.

‘With cucumber.’ Laying back to nestle into the bed, he pulls out his phone and yawns. ‘You’re always super hot on flights and you never sleep. So, just try this please.’

‘You’re a nerd,’ you murmur, glad he is distracted and unable to see the blush that is blooming beneath your cheeks.

‘And you are annoying,’ he retorts, peering up at you with a grin, tongue between his teeth.

Dropping the mask to your nightstand, you sigh, somewhat heavy for the light feeling in your chest. ‘But you love me.’

‘And you love me.’

It feels too raw to agree or acknowledge the statement, like saying anything will force you to say absolutely everything, and so instead you remain silent, keeping your tongue locked behind your teeth so as not to give yourself away.

Time passes steadily, your body relaxing simply because he is near and you can hear the even rise and fall of his breath. The rain and his quiet hums become a soundtrack for your slow sipping of the tea, scrolling through your phone mindlessly, unfocused, and running through your packing checklist once more. 

Eventually, Chanyeol puts his phone beneath a pillow and cuddles against you, resting his head on your shoulder as he watches you scroll. Sometimes, he reaches forward to tap the screen, teasing you by threatening to like pictures on Instagram that belong to people you know of, but do not really know. You fight him off weakly, push yourself away, tell him he’s being an ass, and warning that you will spill, but you don’t mean it. Not at all. The cup is empty, anyway.

After thirty minutes, you place your phone and mug on the nightstand beside the mask, turning over in the bed to face him. For a while, you say nothing, just admire the way his hair falls over his forehead and into his eyes, the small mole on his nose, the way his mouth pouts slightly, the way just seeing you seems to make him smile - or perhaps, he’s simply excited.

Pressing yourself closer to him, you yawn. ‘Did you remember your passport?’

Chanyeol rears back, eyes wide and lips parted in horror, paling in the wake of your words. Your stomach drops.

‘Chanyeol!’

‘Yes,’ he laughs, reaching out from under the blanket to tap your nose. ‘I remembered it.’

Rolling your eyes, you bury your face in the pillow. ‘We should sleep,’ you announce, voice muffled. ‘We have a long drive to the airport tomorrow.’

He nuzzles close, draping an arm over your waist to pull you into his chest. Curling against him with a happy sigh, you press your ear to his sternum to hear his heartbeat. It flutters, just once. ‘Do you think it’ll be raining like this in London?’ he ponders quietly as he draws lazy circles along your spine.

‘It might be,’ you murmur, instantly relaxing into his hold and feeling yourself slip into sleep.

‘I hope so,’ his whispers into your hair, tightening his hold on your body. ‘It’ll feel like tonight never ended.’

You didn’t think the mask would work, but it does. Somewhere over Iceland, you fall asleep against Chanyeol’s shoulder, soothed by the cool mask and his reassuring grip in your hand. Your body tilts into his until you are resting at his side, and he lifts his arm to pull you close, tucking the blanket beneath your chin. Sleeping, simply sleeping, with you is a quiet gift from the universe, one he relishes with his whole heart.

Because you are sleeping, he is free to watch you and free to want you without limitations. Always, he wants to touch you, has stop himself from stroking his thumb along your cheek and across your lips. Always, he has to remind himself that you are not his, you are not his touch nor his to have, but how he wants you. Oh, how he wants you with every beat of his weary heart.

You are not his, so when he sees the green and amber lights erupt just beyond the window, he nudges you awake. Bleary eyed and cranky, you whine for him to stop until he points, makes you see the lights and how they transform the earth into an alien thing, a new thing, something you cannot imagine existing within.

You are not his, so when he sees the Aurora Borealis, he nudges you awake simply so he can share one moment with you. One moment he can call ours.

Yeolo sent a Photo Yeolo[6:31 PM]: whats this YN[6:34 PM]: un stylo Yeolo sent a Photo Yeolo[6:35 PM]: ???? YN[6:36 PM]: un café Yeolo[6:37 PM]: how do i say map? YN[6:38 PM]: i already taught you that one lmao la carte Yeolo[6:39 PM]: train station YN[6:39 PM]: la gare YN[6:40 PM]: how do you say im lost Yeolo[6:41 PM]: uhhhhhhhh Yeolo[6:42 PM]: je me losté YN[6:43 PM]: INCORRECT Yeolo[6:43 PM]: T____T FRENCH IS HARD YN[6:44 PM]: weve been over this one: je suis perdu Yeolo[6:45 PM]: why do you just assume im going to get lost Yeolo[6:46 PM]: the other vocab is more fun :< YN[6:47 PM]: its not an assumption i have money riding on it with baek Yeolo[6:48 PM]: you guys are assholes YN[6:49 PM]: connards Yeolo sent a Photo Yeolo[6:51 PM]: what is this YN[6:52 PM]: un ananas YN[6:52 PM]: when are you ever going to need pineapple on this trip??? Yeolo[6:53 PM]: YOU NEVER KNOW Yeolo sent a Photo Yeolo[6:54 PM]: this? YN[6:59 PM]: moi YN[6:59 PM]: when did you take this?? i didnt even see you doing it Yeolo[7:01 PM]: at sooberrys bonfire last week Yeolo sent a photo Yeolo[7:02 PM]: AND THIS? YN[7:03 PM]: un branleur Yeolo[7:04 PM]: wait idk that word Yeolo[7:04 PM]: countess tell me what that means YN[7:06 PM] - Message sent with Loud Effect: COUNTESS? Yeolo[7:08 PM] - Sent with Slam Effect: HEY!! Yeolo[7:08 PM]: i googled! im not a wanker! YN sent a Video Yeolo[7:09 PM]: thats the most emasculating eye roll ive ever seen Yeolo[7:10 PM]: *cries loudly* YN[7:11 PM]: tell me why you called me countess Yeolo[7:13 PM]: no youre being mean :< YN sent a Photo Yeolo[7:14 PM]: stop pouting !!!! Yeolo[7:15 PM]: my heart !!! YN[7:17 PM]: fine YN[7:18 PM]: the correct word for that picture is très mignon Yeolo[7:19 PM]: CUTE! YOU THINK IM VERY CUTE YN[7:20 PM]: of course you know that and not the IMPORTANT WORDS

In the middle of the Notre Dame, Chanyeol slips his fingers between yours and squeezes. Several moments pass before you realize he’s done this, and you, shaken and trembling, are too weak to truly look up at him. You know how you look, wide eyed and trying not to cry, emotions running free and rampant, turning you into a vulnerable, fragile thing. Overwhelmed, is how you think you feel, body and heart too full of beautiful things to truly process everything in front of you. Looking at Chanyeol would cause the dam inside you to fissure, shattering just enough to release the deluge, and you don’t think you are strong enough to survive such an onslaught of emotional veracity. Not today, at least. Not when everything around you is so perfectly quiet. 

Leading you over to a pew, he sits beside you but does not let go of your hand. For one hour, you remain in silence. It’s the longest you think he’s ever gone without saying a word, and when you finally gather the strength to look at him, when you finally think you truly could be brave, if only so you could keep his after image alive in your mind for eternity, you see that he looks just the same as you.

Reverence has settled on and underneath his skin, giving him an ethereal glow from the inside out. The sun pours through the stained glass windows, and the bronze and honey of the wood polish seem to seek out his shades, eager to make shadows beneath his cheekbones; they turn him into an angelic thing, a holy thing, something that makes you feel the true definition of awe. It hurts to see him like this, you think, to see his lips, so full and pink as the blood races through his body, fighting to keep and carry all his emotions beneath the blanket of his flesh. It hurts to see him like this, looking almost naked and fragile, just like you.

It hurts to see him and not be able to call him yours, so you tell him things that belong to neither of you, only to souls long passed. Doing this makes it easy, makes suffering the the pain of true adoration feel somewhat weightless because you can almost imagine this too shall pass. Hands built this cathedral, fingers laid all the stained glass into intricate patterns, and the whole length of their life seemed infinite and paradoxically brief. Someone must have loved like this, felt devoted to a thing that could not love them back, and they lived - or, perhaps, they died and, if they died, it was not by the hands of love.

You tell him of the French Revolution and the cloister windows; you tell him of the organ, and its 32-key pedalboard. You tell him of all these things, hoping that the lives and the wars and the names of the all the people who suffered to build, and rebuild the cathedral can also build, and rebuild your heart.

You tell him all these things and, as you do, he watches. You point to the windows, discussing with yourself how they were destroyed during the revolution when the cathedral was used as a storage warehouse for food, and how even the restoration couldn’t get the art quite the same. Chanyeol listens, but he does not want to look at them, not when he’s looking at you. Between his fingers, your small hand squeezes and jitters, shaking his in excitement to show him something new, but still he only sees you.

He’s not sure why no one else seems to notice, how simply being in this church has suddenly given you wings. Thousands of names run up and into his mouth, through his mind, and he wants to give them to you, wants them to spill out and over for everyone to hear. He wants to call you Angel, wants to call you Goddess, wants to call you nothing at all because something this pure and this holy should never be tarnished by his tongue.

He wants to call you everything so instead he calls you mes tous.

He knows it’s wrong, rather, thinks it is wrong, but when he’s looking at you, he simply cannot fathom any other term.

For him, you are everything, and nothing else will ever compare.

Yeolo[11:32 AM]: countess YN[11:33 AM]: this text better be about lolla tix Yeolo[11:33 AM]: it is not YN[11:34 AM]: GOD DAMMIT YN[11:34 AM]: T______T YN[11:35 AM]: i hate meetings YN[11:36 AM]: im so sad now Yeolo[11:37 AM]: i know baby i know Yeolo[11:38 AM]: but whats the name of that place you stayed in last year Yeolo[11:39 AM]: for the fest YN[11:40 AM]: the hi chicago hostel YN[11:41 AM]: why YN[11:42 AM]: i am NOT making shithead baek reservations if he got tix YN[11:43 AM]: maybe i will for yixing YN[11:43 AM]: because i am nice Yeolo sent a Photo YN[11:44 AM]: PARK CHANYEOL YN[11:45 AM]: YOU BETTER NOT BE FUCKING WITH ME Yeolo[11:46 AM]: I AM NOT FUCKING WITH YOU BABY YN[11:47 AM]: YOU GOT THEM Yeolo[11:48 AM]: I GOT THEM BABY WERE GOING YN wants to FaceTime

The rain in Chicago is biblical, pouring out of a chasm in the sky in torrents. You could drown in it, you think, if you let yourself go, let it take you over. Like this, it’s easy to associate it with Chanyeol, to assume that it’s him in the rain; it’s him soaking you with wet kisses that cover your hair. It covers you how Chanyeol covers you: completely, warm against your skin and never feeling like a threat, simply cleansing - your body and your mind, making you feel free, making you feel new. The rain feels like Chanyeol, and so you welcome it, let it run down your neck, let it pour into your lungs, and over your skin, baptising yourself in his essence before he comes to wipe his holy residue away.

With the festival over, Chanyeol takes your hand and starts leading you through the crowd to exit the park. He doesn’t say anything, just glances down at you and smiles, squinting through the rain, though his grip never slips. Even in the dark of the night and in between the thick drops, you can see him, radiating like a beacon, calling you to him, a lighthouse for the lonely ship of your ardor.

Standing on Michigan Ave, you cock your head back, letting people push past and grumble at your stillness, and try to keep all of this with you, within you. The city, the weather, the music, his touch, his hands, his mouth. You think on Chanyeol’s arms as they held you, swayed with you to your favourite songs. You think on his laugh as he ran from stage to stage, forcing you to keep up with his long stride. You think of how he fell asleep in your lap, curled up on a blanket beneath a tree, cuddling into you for comfort.

These things, these important, meaningful things, are carved into your bones, and you think they were drawn by Chicago itself. Leaving means tearing out your ribs and leaving them behind. Leaving means going back to how things are, to reality, to the realization that Chanyeol is not yours. And you cannot expect him to be.

Tugging on your hand, Chanyeol waits patiently before you as you open your eyes, and you smile. Rain glides down his nose, dripping off at the tip, making him chuckle. Intensely, he holds your gaze, does not waver and instead looks into you, as though he is seeking your heart, seeking your blood, and asking for both with only his eyes. With parted lips, he breathes through his mouth, as though he has run a mile to get to you, perhaps run for his whole life to have you with him.

A tether has started to spawn between your chests, growing into steel cable and pulling you to him, as though he is a magnet. You step closer forcing your steps to be cautious, your anxious feet wanting to run to him, run through him to say you have been inside him, and left your name behind on all his brightest and ugliest parts. And when he steps closer, gaze dark and chest heaving and hands seeking the wet skin of your arms, you think maybe you could speak, if only to keep him with you, like this, for just one minute more.

‘Let’s not go home.’ It’s neither a question nor a plea, simply a wish, simply a door to an alternate reality you wish you could unlock.

But Chanyeol, already having learned to be brave for you, slides his hands from your arms to your cheeks, and thinks he could do it again. ‘I already am home.’

He presses your lips together without caution, without fear, as if it’s the only thing he’s known how to do in his life. Tilting your head to the side, you open for him, and feel him growl into your mouth as he crushes your body against his, hands moving to splay against your back. You are glad for his tight hold, your knees starting to shake and your hands fisting in his shirt for purchase. He holds you up and supports you with ease, swallows your moans with the whole of his greedy throat, and devours you as though he could never have his fill. Lips moving in unison, you suck on his bottom lip, relishing how soft and smooth the skin feels against your hungry mouth, and this makes him part, gasping for breath.

‘Chanyeol,’ you try, though your voice sounds weak and broken.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he closes his eyes and tries to speak. ‘I call you Countess,’ he croaks, voice tight and small as he struggles to catch his breath and not to cry.

You nod, unable to offer anything else, skin sliding against his. ‘Yes.’

Shaking his head, he pulls away from you for a moment but does not let you go. ‘It comes from the French comte, and that comes from Latin meaning companion,’ he attempts to explain, the words sounding lackluster and unconfident in his haste. ‘You are...that and...I listen to you.’

‘You’re not makin sense, dove,’ you say, lacing your tone with compassion as you bring a palm to his cheek.

‘You don’t think I listen but I do.’ He nuzzles into your palm with a content sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before pressing a wet kiss to your palm and continuing. ‘I hang off every fucking word you say, commit it to memory. I’m always wanting you to say things twice: first so I can learn it and second just so I can hear you say it. I just want to hear it.’

‘Ch-’

‘I’m in love with you.’

Chanyeol announces the words like they’re a jumble of syllables he’s never had to use and is only now learning how to phrase them, or how to shape them. In the wake of their cadence, he takes in your wide, shocked eyes, and realizes he loves them. He loves how they sound on his tongue, loves how they make you look, and so he says them again.

‘I’m so in love with you,’ he repeats, this time slower, and this time making sure you hear. You have the passing sensation he looks like he could float away, awed smile on his lips as he regards you and eyes blown with desire, dark and purely euphoric. ‘It took me forever to figure it out because I’ve never felt this way before, it honestly feels like I could die or I could live forever, like just breathing around you is a risk but fuck, I’ve never felt more alive just standing next to you, just existing beside you.’

The ground seemingly disappears from beneath your feet at his confession, voice gone off in search of the terrain you once knew so well. A shiver runs through your body, though you cannot tell if it is simply of the rain or because of the things he is saying. Unable to do or think through anything, you merely stare, hold onto his shoulders and try not to whimper at the way he whines at the loss of your skin against his.

‘I think I’ve been in love with you since I met you,’ he continues, ‘when the Empress brought you to JD’s party, remember? How I didn’t stop standing next to you or trying to talk to you? You thought I was clingy, maybe I am, but I just wanted to share everything with you. And you already had a boyfriend. He was such a shithead. I hated him first because he had you and then most because he hurt you. The first time I heard you crying on the couch I sat against my door and listened. I wanted to die and then I wanted to go kill him. You did that for weeks, until I needed you in my bed. I couldn’t take it, I just wanted to hold you.’

Running his hands along your cheeks, he kisses your forehead, as your eyes flutter shut with a sight. Then he brings his lips to your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, and, lastly, your lips.

‘I always want to hold you,’ he whispers, breath warm against your mouth as he lingers close. ‘I can’t sleep without you. I don’t deserve you. At all. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re funny, half the time you look like a fucking angel. I keep fucking up things I want to say because you look at me and it’s like my whole life is suddenly shifting. I don’t deserve you, and you can do so much better than me, so we travel. I give you the world because you deserve that, and at least that I get to share.’

It takes you a long while to find your voice, your hands playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck as he presses chaste kisses against your lips. He’s scared, you can feel it in the way he trembles against you, body exhilarated from his confession and terrified, now, of rejection. He’s scared you will push him away, and so he takes what he can get from your mouth and your skin, having his fill to keep it inside for always, even after you are gone.

Much the same, you press your body close to his, letting his cologne linger on your tongue and inside your blood. For you, he is a contact high, a shot of adrenaline straight to your heart that makes the world seem better, seem brighter, simply because he is there to change the spectrum of your vision. And so you take your time simply touching him, touching all the things you’ve felt before without really letting yourself feel them.

‘I decide what I deserve,’ you mutter quietly against his jaw.

This seems to shock him into action, his body careening into yours as he buries his face into your neck. ‘I want you,’ he cries, in relief. ‘Oh my God, I want you.’

‘I’m yours,’ you whisper, pulling his head from your neck and kissing him, first with your soul and then with your mouth. ‘I’m yours.’

[somethingmorecreative1]

room for one more troubled soul [klance fic]

VLD zombie apocalypse by @maireep and @somethingmorecreative1

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 || AO3

keith and lance band together, as the only two mildly sane people they’ve met so far and slowly create a strong bond that leaves all of their plans with loose ends as they try to survive and thrive together.

pairing: klance rating: unrated

iv. room for one more troubled soul

The end of the world was a good place for secrets; Keith had plenty of them.

He could feel his heart stuttering in his chest. Lance had moved even closer to him, pressing up against his back almost completely, fisting one hand in the back of his shirt. Since they had been riding Artax together, Lance had done a good job of staying as far away from him as he could. Even though their hips were always pressed together from the saddle, Lance made sure to keep his distance other than that.

One of Keith’s secrets was Lance.

“What do we do?” Lance’s voice was low, directly in Keith’s ear. “Are you sure it’s not a walker?”

Keith shook his head and stared up at the window. The house was probably about a block from them, but Keith could see the clear figure standing at the window. He could also see the rifle they were holding in their hands.

“Not a walker,” Keith said.

Artax huffed suddenly, tittering underneath them. There were a few walkers stumbling toward them now, and they needed to move.

He tightened his grip on Artax’s reins.

“Keith,” Lance said nervously. He heard a sharp click as Lance flicked the safety off on his handgun.

“Hold on to me,” he said, jerking on Artax’s reins. She spun instantly, and they raced in the other direction, back down the street. Lance’s arms came around his waist, and he held on tight.

In the distance, there was a single shot in the air.

He urged Artax to run faster, and they spun around another street corner. Keith turned to look behind them, trying to make sure that there weren’t any walkers following them too closely in case—

Artax came to a stop so suddenly that Keith and Lance almost flew out of the saddle. She cried out and spun again and—

They ran right into a horde of walkers.

Dead hands and arms endlessly reached for them. Keith could feel the tight grips on his legs, and he jerked on Artax’s reins, trying to get her to move or something.

“Keith! Sword!” Lance was yelling now, gripping onto his waist with one arm and aiming his gun into the crowd with the other. He shot one of the dead bodies just as its teeth were about to fall to Artax’s shoulder, and the weight collapsing against her seemed to snap her out of the fog because she turned and started running again.

Keith yanked his sword from his back, trying to avoid hitting Lance while they raced away. He swiped the walkers that got too close to them away, and Lance was still firing his gun. Keith knew he didn’t have a lot of bullets left so—

Artax ran hard and fast. She was spooked enough that she wasn’t listening to Keith anymore, even when he tried to urge her to slow down. They raced back to the main road, and suddenly, there were walkers everywhere. They were flooding the street, stumbling and reaching for them as they passed. Keith tried to keep the ones closest to them away, but Artax kept running, straight for the house at the end of the street.

“Shoot whoever is in the window!” Keith said to Lance, barely turning his head to look back at him.

“They’re gone!”

Keith cursed, loudly and colorfully. There were walkers everywhere. Fuck, Keith didn’t even know if they could make it to the house despite there being someone that wanted to kill them there. They had been shooting at them before and—

The walkers started to group up in front of them, and Artax skittered nervously again. Keith grit his teeth, swung his leg over the saddle, and jumped down to the street, brandishing his sword in front of them.

“Keith!” Lance shouted, wildly grabbing for Artax’s reins as she neighed desperately.

Keith barely had time to glance at them before he stepped in front and started running forward, clearing the walkers with every hard, deliberate swing of his sword. “Clearing us a fucking path! Stay on my ass!”

They rushed forward, Keith running as hard as he could to get to the walkers in front of them. The crowd behind them was only getting thicker, but they only needed to get a few more hundred feet. If they could get to the house, then they could deal with whatever was there. If they could get to the house, if they could stay alive, Keith would do whatever he needed to do keep them that way.

They made it to the house’s porch. Lance jumped off the saddle, keeping Artax’s rein in his hands as he guided her up the concrete steps. Keith guarded them from behind, keeping his sword up and swiping down any loose walkers. The crowd was inching closer and closer, the growling and moaning unbearably loud now, so loud it was hard to concentrate.

“Lance!” Keith shouted, turning to glance up at them.

Artax was standing right beside him, and she was making too much noise, hooves clanking against the porch. Lance was at the door, one hand on the door handle, shoulder pushing against it.

“I can’t get it open!” he screamed, close to hysterics.

Keith felt a hand on his chest, clawing at his shirt. He swiped his sword up, cutting off the head of a walker. He kicked the body away, back into the crowd and they stumbled back a few feet.

He turned and dashed up the steps, grabbing Lance by the back of his shirt and pulling him out of the way. He pushed back far enough to pull his leg up and kick at the door, and he put everything he had left into it and—

His foot went through the wood and splintered it. Lance shoved forward, and together, they pushed it in.

“Get Artax inside!” he shouted, turning back to the edge of the porch and kicking back the first few walkers that got up the first few stairs.

Lance tugged Artax inside, shouting, “Keith! Get your ass in here!”

He turned and raced inside. The door was splintered, but it had been blocked by a piece of furniture, so when Keith was inside, they shoved the heavy dresser back against it just as several pairs of hands snuck through the gap, clawing at the air.

It seemed to hold. Keith and Lance stepped back from it carefully, slowly.

“Are you alright?” Keith panted, out of breath, relieved that they were even alive.

Lance seemed to feel the same way. His blue eyes were wide, and he looked shaken up. It had been a close call, and it had also been a while since their last close call. Keith wondered if they would ever get used to almost dying at the hands of dead bodies.

“I’m okay,” he replied quietly, then he shifted his eyes to Artax.

They both moved over to her, checking for bites and scratches, but she was fine. Keith’s world tilted right side up again. Artax and Lance—they were all he had anymore.

And he had almost lost them today.

Somehow, between Artax and Lance’s heavy breathing, the groaning from the walkers at the door, and his own heartrate, Keith heard the creak of a floorboard from somewhere deeper in the house.

He froze immediately, glancing to Lance. He must not have heard it; he still had his face buried into Artax’s shoulder.

Keith gripped his sword and pulled it from the sheath on his back. He crept through the empty foyer and—

Another floorboard creaked.

He spun toward the sound, looking through the doorway into the empty, dark room attached off the hallway. There wasn’t anything in there, so where had the noise come from?

There were three more attached doorways on the foyer. Two at the very end and another on Keith’s other side. It looked like it led into a kitchen and living room, but the windows had all been boarded up because it was dim and hardly any sunlight cast into the room.

Lance’s voice was quiet when he said his name, and Keith turned around, but as he did, he caught a flash of gray in his peripheral, and then, something hit his head. He stumbled, and his vision went black right as he saw Lance’s eyes widen in horror as he looked at him.

He had blacked out by the time his body hit the floor.

;;

While Keith had been alone, nothing had really changed for him. Sure, the walkers and the “new world” were a change from how his life had been before, but as far as everything else, it had pretty much been the same.

He and his brother, Shiro, had essentially been on his own since his mother left when he was eight. He could barely remember her now; usually it was just flashes of her white hair, the gentle way she used to smile at Keith, a clip of her voice singing him to sleep if he was lucky.

His dad fell to pieces after Mom left, then, it only got worse when Shiro left too. He could still remember the day Shiro left the ranch for the last time to catch his bus to Atlanta, where he would start his military training. It had been a brisk day for Texas, the edges of winter just barely sneaking in on them.

“Take care of yourself,” Shiro had told him, more serious than he normally was. “You can call me. I’ll come if you need me.”

Keith was fourteen when he left. Their dad had already gone off the deep end, and Shiro left him behind with a few horses and a drunkard who had anger problems.

After Shiro, Keith tried to stick to his plans. Make it through high school. Join the Air Force. Become a pilot. Get the hell away from his dad and all his problems.

Nothing had worked. Keith was expelled from high school his junior year after he got into a fight with the football quarterback. It hadn’t been his first fight, but it had been the worst one. The other boy had needed reconstructive surgery for his nose and jaw by the time someone had hauled Keith off of him. No one seemed to care that he had been yelling the word “faggot” at Keith for weeks. No, nobody had ever cared.

He didn’t go back to high school, and his dad didn’t care either. Instead, he started working the ranch and breeding horses. They pulled in a decent living, just enough for his dad to waste everything away at the bar every night.

Keith never called Shiro.

He heard from his older brother from time to time. Every time he called, Shiro asked about school, asked about how he was doing, asked about their dad. And every time, Keith nodded even though Shiro couldn’t see him and lied, told him everything was fine.

Keith did his best. He worked with the horses, sold a few when he managed, found work when he could. He did a few rodeos and won some money that way, but he hated the thought of spending the rest of his life doing it. His only friend was his own horse, Artax, but he never really felt as bad about his life when he was riding her through the ranch. She was fast, excited, wild, just like him. At times, Keith thought that she was the only thing that understood him.

When the end of the world began, Keith hardly noticed. They didn’t have cable at their house, and they didn’t have internet. The only time that Keith ever really listened or watched the news was when he went into the town that was a few miles south of the ranch, and that was only a couple of times a week.

Then the big cities fell. Los Angeles, Miami, New York were all swarmed with people who had turned. Death tolls rose to the hundred-thousands, and they just kept climbing. The CDC was telling people to barricade themselves in their houses and to avoid contact with people. The government was trying to evacuate the Northern states and move people to Canada. The last that Keith had heard, which had been from an old radio that he’d stolen from the General Store when people started leaving town, was that everyone should head for Canada.

D.C. fell not long after. Power went out everyone. Communications went down. The government had made it clear that they wanted people to head to Canada, but Keith wondered how people thought that it couldn’t be as bad there too.

Keith never heard from Shiro. The last that he had, when the first weird news stories had started, Shiro was close to D.C. in an apartment about a hundred miles north of the city. He had been assigned on protection detail for something big, but he had never told Keith any of the details. It left Keith wondering if Shiro had been working with the outbreak, trying to get a cure for it or figure out how to save people from it.

Shiro was probably dead. Keith had almost lost hope, but there was something about the end of the world that made his father get his shit together. Oddly enough, after everything went down, after people turned on people and there were dead bodies up and walking, Keith’s dad was the best dad he had been in a long time. He was talking again. He planned again. When he ran out of alcohol, he didn’t go looking for more. He prepped the ranch for everything they could think of; they reinforced the fences, stocked up on food and supplies, talked about going north to find Shiro, and just lived together.

The real end of the world happened about two months into the apocalypse.

Keith had been on Artax most of the morning, riding her around the perimeter and fixing broken spots in the fence when he found them. It had happened suddenly. One minute, the entire field was clear, nothing in site, and then the next, it was flooded with bodies and moans and groans and hands that were reaching for anything alive—

Keith and Artax had raced back up to the barn, but it was no better there. They fought through a small horde of them with the sword Keith had found in an abandoned car early on, but they had found Keith’s dad resting inside the barn, half his shoulder torn away by a nasty bite.

It was the first time Keith had cried in years. His father’s apologies and instructions to go north and find Shiro were almost drowned out by the bodies outside the barn door. His father had managed to gather supplies for him, a bedroll, some food and water, a few more weapons, that he placed on Artax. He’d taken his black Stetson off his head and reached up to place it on Keith’s, smiling lightly. Then, he’d turned away and thrown both barn doors open, and Keith watched his dad drown in the walkers while Artax carried him away.

His days were empty. Keith stopped when Artax stopped. He ate when she ate, drank when she drank. For the first few days, he didn’t say anything. They dodged walkers as they ran from everything and nothing. They avoided living people when they could.

Keith killed a person, then someone else, then another.

By the time he came back to himself and headed north to look for Shiro, he was more adept to dealing with the world. He understood how it worked. Walkers were dangerous. People were more dangerous. Staying alone was staying alive. Don’t get your hopes up. Don’t hope for anything. Just stay alive.

They headed toward D.C. Keith and Artax learned pretty quickly to avoid the cities and bigger highways when they could. Artax was fast, excited at the prospect of riding so much. She made everything else bearable.

Unsurprisingly, the apartment where Shiro had last said he was had been burned to the ground. There were only burned bodies and remains left. Keith hadn’t known what to expect, but he never thought he would find Shiro alive anyway. He had just sat atop Artax and stared at the ruined building for as long as the universe allowed. When the bodies had started stumbling toward them, he had jerked on Artax’s reins and led them away.

Days later, he had been making his way down a major highway until he could pick his way into the suburbs of D.C. when he and Artax had been startled by the loud creak of a car door. He and Artax had both turned, focusing on the sound, and Keith had been met with one of the most beautiful boys he’d ever seen.

Despite being pretty and easy to look at, Lance was hard to get along with. The first day, he’d been so annoying and rude that Keith had assumed he was just a jackass. Sure, it did nothing to temper how gorgeous he was, but it was enough to make Keith sputter with rage. The only consolation had been how much Artax had seemed to like him. She had always been a good judge of character, so it made Keith wonder if he was really a jackass or not.

Keith knew for sure when Lance snuck out of the cabin the next morning. The other boy was so loud that Keith hardly slept at all when Lance was on watch, but when he’d started to sneak out, he said goodbye to Artax and blocked the door back so they would be safe.

He honestly hadn’t meant to track him down. He and Artax had left a couple of hours after Lance, just to give him enough time to make some ground on them in whatever direction he had decided on. Keith guessed he would head west since there was nothing left in the south, but it had been an honest mistake, a lucky miracle when he’d found Lance on the road again.

After, they’d stayed together. Keith was glad. He had been completely honest when he had told Lance that he was tired of being alone. And Lance—Keith could tell that Lance needed someone. When he had found Lance again, he promised himself that he would try his hardest to be whatever Lance needed. He had to make it work. He didn’t even really know why, but he knew that it was something he had to do. In the two days that they had known each other, Lance had somehow become his family, and Keith would die before he lost another one.

;;

He could hear Lance’s voice before he could see anything. He was saying his name, and it made Keith squint and blink his eyes open slowly.

Even though the light was dim, it still hurt his head. There was a throbbing pain right behind his eyes, and when he looked up, he could see Lance hovering above him, face twisted with worry, voice mirroring it as he said, “Keith? Keith, wake up.”

Lance’s face softened with relief, and one of his hands was sitting on Keith’s chest. It was warm. He said, “Oh thank god, Keith.”

“Happened?” he grunted, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“My fault,” another voice said, and despite his headache, he jerked up, hand automatically reaching behind him to grab his sword.

Lance grabbed his wrist and stopped him. His fingers were warm on Keith’s skin. His other hand fisted Keith’s shirt, and he said, “Hey, no, stop. We’re fine. We’re fine.”

Keith blinked, almost letting a groan slip through his lips. Lance helped him sit up the rest of the way, and Keith pressed a hand against his forehead for a few seconds before forcing himself to look around the room.

They were in some sort of living room, Keith thought. The furniture was almost ruined, covered in blood in spots, and the boards that had been used to cover the windows were falling. It looked like this house had been used for a while after the apocalypse, but it must not have lasted long for whoever was here before.

“Artax?” Keith asked. His voice was rough.

“Right behind you,” Lance said just as she nudged Keith’s neck with her nose. He reached back blindly to set his hand on her, murmuring that he was okay.

“You okay?” he asked Lance next.

The other boy nodded back at him. His eyes were wide, and he was studying Keith closely. He didn’t seem alarmed or afraid, so Keith thought that was a good sign.

Lance said, “I’m okay. Pidge didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

Keith finally shifted his gaze to the new voice. Honestly, the person was smaller than he had thought. Even though she was sitting on the floor beside Lance, Keith could tell that she was a lot shorter and probably a lot younger than them. Her hair was short, sticking out in odd clumps off her head. There was a thin layer of dirt on her face, and a pair of too big, wire framed glasses were sitting low on her nose.

“I’m Pidge,” she said. “Sorry I hit you.”

He narrowed his eyes, but he really couldn’t blame her. He would have done the same thing if he’d found her first.

“It’s alright,” Lance said cheerfully when Keith didn’t answer. “Keith has a hard head so he’ll heal up in no time.”

Keith looked over to Lance, “How do you know she’s not crazy?”

Lance stared at him, “It was a misunderstanding, Keith. She hit you; I almost shot her. I talked to her while we waited on you to wake up. She gave us food and water. And she has some Advil if your head is hurting.”

It made Keith feel a little better that Lance had threatened to shoot her. It was just so hard to tell how people would be anymore, or if there were any good people left. Objectively, Keith was aware that he had given Lance a chance without knowing anything about him but—this was different. Lance was his family now. They couldn’t just trust anyone they came across.

Still. If Pidge, whoever she was, had been wanting to kill them, it would have been best to do it when Keith had been knocked out.

Now, she held her hand out, presenting a bottle of Advil to him.

Keith stared at it for so long that Lance sighed dramatically and took it from Pidge. He dumped three tablets out into his hand before pressing them into Keith’s palm and shoving some water at him too.

“Thanks,” he murmured, swallowing them quickly. Artax knickered behind him silently, and Keith felt her press her nose against his neck. He guessed that she had been worried about him.

Keith drank the rest of the water, and they waited. In the silence that followed, Keith could still hear the crowd of bodies outside. It wasn’t as prominent here, but the faint echoes of the growls and moans and the unnerving thuds against the walls were still audible.

“They should wander off in a few hours if we stay quiet,” Pidge broke the silence between them, and Keith stiffened at her voice.

“Could you leave us alone for a few minutes?” Lance asked suddenly. “I need to talk to Keith.”

Pidge nodded quickly. She stood, and her height made Keith wonder exactly how old she was. She said, “I’ll go upstairs for a while. There’s more water if you need it.”

Lance thanked her, and she slowly walked out of the room. Keith’s eyes followed her out into the hallway where she disappeared into the dark. He heard the small creaks of the stairs when she started up them.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Lance cuffed him on the back of the head. It made his headache sting a little more, but when he looked over to Lance, he was already frowning.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Stop being a dick,” Lance said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We don’t even know her.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “You didn’t know me.”

“You’re different.”

“Yeah, now. I get that you want to be careful, but I’m not laying my gun down either. Sure, she could be planning on killing us in our sleep or feeding us to walkers, but we don’t know that. She gave us food, water, and medicine. She had a gun when she came downstairs, so she could have shot both of us, but she didn’t,” Lance paused for a few seconds and lowered his voice. “I think we should help her.”

“What?”

Lance rolled his eyes again, probably at Keith’s tone of voice, but come on. Lance had to know how crazy he sounded right now. They couldn’t just—they didn’t even know her. Why would they help her? And what would they even help her with?

“I’m serious, Keith,” he said. While he spoke, Artax laid down behind them, nudging their backs. It made Keith realize how close he was sitting to Lance. They were barely a foot apart. Lance continued, “When you were passed out, she told me that she’s looking for her brother. He’s in D.C., and we’re going there anyway.”

“How does she know he’s alive?” Keith asked because come on, who even had family left in the world anymore?

“Keith, seriously,” Lance said, annoyed. Keith guessed that Lance had already made up his mind about helping her. “We’re going to D.C. anyway, and we can help her get there.”

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. His head was still aching. “Why should we?”

Lance finally looked away from him. He flattened his palm over Artax’s leg and smoothed her coat as he murmured, “She reminds me of my sisters. If someone found them, I hoped they would help.”

Keith heaved a big sigh. He wasn’t any good at this. He had a hard-enough time connecting with Lance in the first place, and even then, they weren’t in a place where they had long talks about their families and their past. Sure, Keith knew enough about Lance to know that his entire family was most likely dead, but hearing Lance talk about them like this was enough to set Keith on edge.

He relented, “Okay. She just needs us to help her get to D.C.?”

“And help her look for her brother.”

“We could get killed doing that.”

Lance rolled his eyes, “We could get killed the next time we go outside.”

Keith sighed again, reaching up to thread a hand through his hair. Absently, he wondered what happened to his hat. “Okay, okay. So we just drop everything and go look for her brother with her?”

“Honestly, Keith, what do we have to drop?” Lance sounded annoyed again, like it was actually an effort to carry on this conversation. “We don’t have anything.”

“What about Hunk?”

Lance hesitated at that, and Keith regretted bringing it up.

It was a long few seconds before Lance said anything else, and when he did reply, his voice was firm and allowed no room to argue. “We’re going to D.C. first anyway, so we should help Pidge.”

Keith nodded and turned to look at him. Lance was still leaning back against Artax, smoothing his hand over her leg. He wasn’t looking at Keith, but his jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were stiff.

“Okay,” Keith agreed. “We go to D.C. first and help Pidge find her brother.”

“Then Hunk.”

He nodded, “Then Hunk.”

There was a heavy pause between them then. It was familiar to Keith now; it was a silence that happened when they were on the same page, when they knew they were about to do something dangerous, something that could get them killed. D.C. would be more dangerous than anything that they had done so far.

But they didn’t have another option. They didn’t have enough supplies to continue out West, and everything in the suburbs had been picked clean by other people. They would have to find more food and water in the city before they would be able to leave. Besides, they were too close now anyway, and if they were going to help Pidge, they would have to go straight into D.C.

Keith leaned back against Artax, resting against her shoulder. His head was still aching, but the medicine was helping a little bit. In the silence, Keith could still hear the walkers outside. It made him feel caged in and surrounded, like there were no other options.

“Is your head still hurting?” Lance’s voice was softer then, more tempered to the air between them.

Keith mirrored his tone, something in his desperate to keep the moment between them. He murmured, “It’s getting better. The medicine helped.”

“We should go upstairs and find Pidge,” Lance said a few minutes later.

Keith nodded and pushed off Artax, struggling and stumbling to his feet. Honestly, he was exhausted. His boots felt too heavy, and his limbs felt sluggish.

When he was upright, Lance turned to him and sat his hat on top of his head. He had a small smirk on his face, and his voice titled upward when he said, “Can’t be a cowboy without your hat, can you?”

Keith scoffed and followed after him when he started for the stairs. He refused to acknowledge the slight blush on his cheeks. It was probably because of his headache anyway.

They left Artax in the living room and made their way through the house. A few floorboards creaked as they inched through the dark hallway and to the stairs. Blood covered the walls, and Keith was just starting to notice how the whole house smelled like death. He wondered what had happened here; then, he decided he was better off not knowing.

When they got to the top of the stairs, Lance softly called out to Pidge.

“Here,” she replied, voice echoing from a doorway to the right.

Keith followed Lance into the room. It was lighter than the other. The boards on the window had been taken off, and the front window was propped open with a book. There was a semi-automatic rifle resting against the window frame, and the room was also littered with a few cans of food and some small supplies, including a sleeping bag, a solar powered lantern, a few books, and other miscellaneous objects.

Pidge was sitting in a chair in front of the open window. She turned to look at them and met Keith’s gaze. Her eyes were narrowed, but she must have seen realized that they weren’t planning on hurting her because she nodded to him.

She jerked her head toward the window, “They should clear out in a few hours. Definitely by tomorrow.”

Keith looked past her to see an enormous crowd of walkers surrounding them. It made his throat tighten and his lungs seize up, but when he looked closely, walkers at the back of the crowd were already starting to wander away. Pidge was probably right. If they could hold out here until the crowd moved on, they could get to D.C.

“We’re going to help you find your brother,” Lance said suddenly, breaking the tense silence.

She spun around to face them, eyes wide, “You are? Why?”

Keith glanced at Lance before shrugging, “We don’t have anything else to do.”

“Thank you,” she blurted, voice heavy with gratitude and relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Lance said, stepping farther into the room to lean against the wall. “We might not be able to find him.”

“But you’re still going to help me,” she said, meeting Keith’s gaze again. “That’s… it’s something.”

Keith nodded and broke the eye contact to stare out at the sea of walkers in front of them. He wondered if the universe was trying to send them a message, if this was some kind of ominous foreshadowing for what was waiting for them in D.C.

Instead of considering it, Keith said, “It’s something.”