#and her mental health is about to crash and burn

[hikaaa-bi]

i’m here to see alice dyer’s slow spiral into desperation and toxicity

[foolishjellyfish]

so maybe things might actually be alright

[katiesyellowcardcollection]

We ain’t angry at you, love

Katie McCabe x teen!reader

trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, hospitals, grief, overall bad mental health, please don’t read if you’re not in the correct headspace 🫶

you didn’t realise it had gotten this bad, or maybe you did and you weren’t ready to admit it.

there was something about admitting how bad things had gotten that scared you, talking about your feelings, admitting that you needed help was beyond scary.

you couldn’t tell your mam how much you were struggling, couldn’t verbalise just how much you were hurting, you didn’t want to hurt her, make her realise that despite everything she couldn’t make you better, couldn’t heal your past.

you were broken beyond repair, everything about you was entirely broken, from your head to your toes, your heart to your brain, it was all broken, your life was a mess, that only seemed to get worse and worse the more life went on.

you were only young, sixteen to be precise and yet you’d been through more than most people would in their lifetime, but your man had saved you, stopped you from drowning when you were twelve years old, she gave you a home, somewhere to feel safe, loved and cared for, you thought that feeling would last forever, that the love your mam gave you would be enough. Stop you from crumbling to your PTSD, you thought that every happy memory your mam gave you would replace every bad one, and it did for awhile at least, everything was okay, you were happy, until you weren’t.

until you started playing for Arsenal, until the hate began and undone everything you had tried your best to patch up, until the flashbacks came back and the anxiety consumed you again.

maybe you were destined for this life, this never ending cycle of pain and heartbreak.

This cycle of finally feeling better, like you wanted to live, wanted to be happy, and then the inevitable would happen, you’d crash, and the feelings would come back. Each time they did, you felt a piece of you break, another piece of you unraveling, until you were all unraveled, consumed by the weight of your mind. the tumbleweed mess of your past taking over.

it was what led you here, alone in your bathroom crouched over the sink, throwing the contents of your stomach out, bleeding out all over the once shiny white tiles.

your wrists were burning now, your scarlett blood was dripping down the bathrooms bright white tiles, you can still remember picking out those tiles with your mam, you were 13 and the bathroom was being renovated, katie let you pick out the tiles, you had spent hours deciding what ones to get, what the perfect ones were, it was something so simple and yet it was the first time you’d ever been given the choice in something, allowed to decide something on your own, at the time you hadn’t known your blood was going to pour out all over them, ruin the perfect tiles you picked out, hadn’t realised you would spent your last moments on these tiles, those white shiny tiles.

you didn’t know what had led you here today, why today was the day you’d simply had enough, why you’d finally gotten over the fear and just done it, you didn’t know why, you were just done, so fucking done.

you couldn’t breathe now you realised, you think you were dying, although you couldn’t be sure because you’d never died before.

it felt good you think, knowing that soon you’d take your last breathes, soon you’d be gone, free from the shackles of your mind, free from your past.

you had been at peace with this decision for a long time, way before you had actually done it, way before you had even came into your mind, it was always your destiny to go out this way.

Your biological mum had went out this way, after one to many lashing from your father, days later your father had went the same way, blade to the wrist, just like you were now, you had found him, slumpt up against the bathroom door, just like you were now, it was always what was supposed to happen you realised, you weren’t made for the fame, strangers weren’t supposed to know your name, you weren’t supposed to feel the love that Katie had given you, that wasn’t your destiny, this was.

you’d spent to long pretending it was, pretending that everything was fine, that this wasn’t how you were supposed to go, sometimes you had even believed it, believed that you were going to be okay, some days you truly believed you could live this life, live a life of fame, happiness, love and then it would all come crushing down, and you’d be harshly reminded off your fate.

-

you thought you were gone, thought it was all over, but then you heard the beeping, loud obnoxious beeps, this wasn’t death, wasn’t hell or heaven, no this was something else.

this wasn’t where you were supposed to be, no you were supposed to be gone, you should be gone you did everything right, you didn’t exactly what your late mother had done and your father, they had gone, they got to leave and yet you hadn’t.

no you were still here you realised, you were in a dimly lit hospital room, the beeping becoming more clear, the soft snores of caitlin in the background, this was not the end.

this was much worse you realised, you had failed, you had failed yet again, if your father was here to see he would have laughed at your failure, he probably sneering at you right now, wherever he was, wherever you go when you die.

you didn’t want to open your eyes, if you opened your eyes it would all become real, what you had tried to do, you’d have to your mams heartbreak, you’d have to go to therapy and talk and talk, you couldn’t do that.

you were to scared, terrified in fact, you didn’t want to be here you couldn’t here.

you were getting truly distressed now, your heartbeat increasing, the beeping was getting louder now, doctors came rushing in trying to calm you.

“hey darling, it’s okay can you breathe for me sweetheart” you hear your mams calming essence, her usual accent thick with emotion.

slowly you opened your eyes, staring back at you were your mams bright green eyes, they were glossed all over, her eyes bag prominent.

you had done this you realised, you’d destroyed your mam, broken her heart.

“M’ sorry” you managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly.

because you were sorry, you didn’t realise how upset your ma would be, you figured she’d get over it, you’d only been in her life a short time, you didn’t think she’d be so upset.

“you don’t need to be sorry baby i’m just glad your okay” katie replied, giving you a soft smile.

you could see the hurt in her eyes, you weren’t stupid, you knew it wasn’t okay.

“no i’m sorry ma I’m sorry for coming into your life and fucking up all your plans i’m so fucking sorry.”

you watch as your mams face falls, her shoulder drops, and the tears well back up again.

“No y/n you are the best to ever happen to me, i love you and i need you here with me, at home and healthy, you don’t need to be sorry for anything” she tells you, the urgency in her voice becoming more evident.

you shake your head “no i ruined your life i ruin everything i touch you should have let me died ma.”

“No baby, you didn’t” she replies quietly, her words remain in the air for a while.

you could hear the sincerity in her voice, it didn’t change how you felt though, maybe to her you hadn’t ruined her life, but to you, and everyone round her you had ruined her life.

“y/n before i met you, i was lost, i wasn’t me, i had lost myself and then u became your mam and suddenly everything was okay again, i found my purpose, my purpose was to be your mam to make you happy and healthy, you changed my life yes, but you changed it for the better, every single day i wake up and thank god that you came into my life, you’re my baby girl y/n and i love you.”

Her words hit you like a truck, you hadn’t known you were crying until Katie reached down to your cheek to wipe them away.

You didn’t want to live, or so you had thought, and then you heard katie’s words, and all of a sudden maybe living in wasn’t quite so bad.

“i don’t know what to do ma, i’m scared, and I’m all alone i don’t think i can be me again” you cried out, your words were almost unrecognisable.

“You can do it, you have me, Caitlin, your teammates, you can baby you are so strong” Katie tells you, hugging you tightly, she wishes she could hold onto you forever, wishes you both could just stay like this, where she could keep you safe and away from the whirlwind of your mind.

“go to sleep baby, once you wake up, we can talk some more, it’s all going to be okay i promise.”

and you believed her, maybe it will all be okay, maybe you can do this, you can face this, maybe just maybe your destiny isn’t the same as your mothers or father.

-

you didn’t wake up.

you never woke up again.

you had a seizure and your heart stopped, you died, you never got to hear Katie’s next words.

you weren’t given the chance to get better.

you didn’t get to see your full potential.

you didn’t get to achieve everything you always wanted to.

you never got live out that bright future everyone always told you that you had.

you didn’t get to finish school.

you didn’t get to sign your first pro contract, like you had always dreamed off.

all of those things never happened.

because you killed yourself, on them bright white tiles, in your bathroom floor, just like your mother and father had once.

-

Katie’s eyes snapped open, pulling the covers away from her body, scrambling out of bed, walking towards your bedroom, praying she’d find you, praying this was all just some kind of evil prank, that she’d find you safe and sound asleep in bed, like you should be.

your room was excatly as you left, the letters you wrote, remained untouched, katie couldn’t bear to read them, not yet at least.

your homework was left sprawled on your desk, your clothes scattered around your room, your fairy lights remained on, exactly as you left them.

to anyone else it would look like normal teenage girls bedroom.

but to Katie, it was the last thing she had left of you, the last part of you that wasn’t full of dark memories, the last thing that remained untouched form that night.

katies body trembled as she remembered that night, finding your lifeless body and blood sprawled out all over the bathroom floor, seeing your eyes that were once filled with so much light and happiness, dead and cold.

“Katie?”

Caitlin asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“you okay baby” she questioned slowly, watching as the brunette eyes frantically searched the room, looking for you.

you weren’t there.

you’d never be there again.

never.

“i had a dream of what could’ve been” she managed to choke out to her girlfriend, turning around to look at her “i miss her so much i just want my baby girl back cait” she wailed, heavy tears flowing down her cheeks.

she’d had this exact dream, every night since you had left, it had been exactly one week without you, without hearing your smile and laugh, it had a long and exhausting week.

Breaking the news to her teammates, watching as their face dropped, watching as their heart broke right in front of her.

and then there was breaking the news to the entire women’s football community, the child prodigy, the sixteen year old girl who was supposed to be Arsenals future ‘star girl’, telling the world that her daughter was gone, gone from this world, and that she would never come back.

it had been a long week of paper work, planning your funeral, she should have been planning your birthday, instead she was picking out flowers and coffins.

“it’s okay Katie, you’re allowed to cry and be upset, you can be upset for as long as you need baby” Caitlin sympathised, slowly making her way to Katie’s spot on your bed.

“she was only sixteen cait, sixteen she still had so much left to give, so much to see, she wanted to see so much and now she never will.” Katie rambled out, her words becoming almost unrecognisable.

“i know, i know, but now you get to live for her, do all the things she wanted to do caitlin replied slowly, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“i wish she came to me cait i could’ve helped” Katie sobbed out again.

“i know I’m so sorry baby.”

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 5

────୨ৎ────

College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode five!

Song recommendation: white Mustang- Lana del rey

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Sexual content: (light) praise kink, (light) size kink (lmao next episode bout to go crazy with that one), oral; fem. receiving, chest play, making out

Taglist: @bts-iris @kaeysv @khadeeeeej @rockstryoon

────୨ৎ────

Another day, another night spent on the couch of Jungkook, watching some sort of show with him, munching on dinner he cooked.

He got used to cooking for two.

Its been a week,

A week that turned into a week and a half.

Still no calls, no places, no friends to crash at.

Not even Taehyung, his fraternity house is much worse than just staying with Jungkook.

Not like it bothered you, Jungkook is comfortable, he has a cozy apartment with enough space for two people.

Growing borderline nice from day to day.

His little gestures like buying two of the icetea he drinks, like changing the sheets if you had class the days he hadn't, cooking jjajangmyeon without onions because you hate them.

It was easy to get used to his routine, to bicker with him daily, to sit next to him when he works on his lesson preperation, while you study for your classes.

Sleeping in his shirt, doing your laundry in his bathroom, and accidentally stumbling across his calvin klein's.

It felt intimate at times, like living together was more than just that.

Tonight is different.

Tonight would be your very first party.

After a whole week of persuasion, Taehyung talking your ear off about how fun it was, how many people you could meet, how you could dance your heart away.

You decided, fuck it. One party.

"To be clear, I'm NOT drinking and i swear if you touch me, Taehyung, I will actually strangle you" loud and clear, your boundaries set while you're on call with him. Taehyung called you at 10pm as you were peacefully watching "Running man" with Jungkook, at first you shut off the call.

Until another followed by another call coming through.

"Just come on! once! One single time" he begged, Jungkook's jaw clenching at the voice from the other end of the phone.

He simply can not stand Taehyung, the way he devours you with his eyes, the way he talked you into doing things you don´t normally want to do,

like parties.

In desperate need of social contacts and having some serious fun, a party doesn't sound too bad anymore, Tae would keep his hands off, now that you told him to.

"You're seriously going?" Jungkook asks once you end the call, his eyes stern and burning through you, judging you almost.

"Yeah. You can enjoy a night to yourself again, I won't get back late, I promise" you smile at him, already thinking of what to wear from your very limited selection of clothes.

He scoffs, pressing his lips together.

"What? Got something against it?" your head tilts, a playful smirk on your lips.

His eyes move away from yours and back to the flashy TV screen.

"Just not looking forward to having to pick you up wasted, possibly having to push off some jerk to even get to you" his tongue presses the inside of his cheek, not making eye contact with you. A strong hand is rubbing his thighs that are spread on his couch, while the other one moves through his hair, lifting his arm enough to see his well defined triceps.

A part of you hopes that he was jealous, that he hated the thought of you making out with some college jerk, just like you hated the thought of making out with anyone that wasn't him.

There was nothing left to confront, nothing to deny.

You have a crush on Jungkook, on your photography teacher that you live with.

Maybe it was the intimacy of living with him, but the racing heartbeat in your chest, the pertruding smile on your face whenever he smiled too, even if slight, even if to make fun of you,

The throbbing between your thighs when he speaks in his sultry, low voice. The way his hair is messy most of the time, how his muscles flex when he's working, his groans of frustration, making you wonder just how he could sound if he groaned more. Your thoughts when he drives with his skillful fingers, the way he licks his lip piercing when he's focused. Having to surpress the thoughts of what happened, almost happened, when you were both drunken by the burning alcohol.

All of it is impossible to ignore, to talk yourself into believing it´s nothing.

Every inch of him, of his habits, it made you flaunt for him. Wishing that instead of his shirt, it was him, sleeping next to you peacefully.

Looking at him ever so often, hoping to catch him looking back.

Even taking longer in the shower when your wandering thoughts get accompanied by your wandering hands.

It is wrong, it is so wrong because he's your teacher, because the goodness behind his hard exterior helped you through your own mess in life.

And yet, you find yourself going out to party away the thought of him, only to return back to him the same night.

"Don't worry kook, I'm not drinking. You won't have to pick me up, just enjoy your night alone" you make your way into the guest bedroom to change.

"Am not worried, you're old enough" he grumbles as you walk away.

Of course, he wasn't worried.

Until he's stuck in his living room, pacing around.

He glances at the clock, 2:15 am, still no text, still no doorbell.

Originally, Jungkook wasn't going to do anything special, just watch Tv and cook something nice for a midnight snack.

You had left the house at half past ten, in a pair of black low waisted cargos and a tight fitting crop tee. Black as well, matching your shoes too.

Simple, comfortable, not too revealing.

Not that he would have cared if someone saw you in a revealing outfit,

That's what he likes to believe. In reality, he would have probably come with you if you did, glaring at every guy who dared to look.

The thought of you not answering his text because of being drunk somewhere or being in bed with a guy you had just met made him sick.

"I'm not letting you walk back at this hour. Call me when you need me to pick you up. And don't start arguing over this"

Sent at 11:39, over two hours ago.

Left on delivered.

He sits back down, sighing and deciding to call over his best friend, turn this into a boys night.

You are out partying, probably having fun with other people, why shouldn´t he?

Dialing the familiar number, it rings briefly before a voice deep answers the phone.

"JK! what's up bro?" Mingyu greets

"I'm good. My student left so i thought i'd ask you to come over? Haven't hung out in a while" Jungkook humms while checking the pantry for any snacks.

"Your little girlfriend left? Miss her so much you gotta make your best friend keep you company?" Mingyu laughs loudly from the other side of the phone.

Naturally, being Jungkook's best friend, he knew about the night that you almost kissed. Ever since then, he's been teasing him about it. Pissing him off by insisting on calling you his "little girlfriend".

"Fuck off gyu, could´ve just said no asshole" he scoffs, ready to hang up the phone.

"Don't get so butthurt Jk, she's getting you soft already. I'll be there in 20. Wanna go to a bar?"

He ignores the other comment,

"Nah, I'll go pick her up later. Stop by to get some snacks" he replies casually.

"Alright. Where did she go by the way?" Mingyu just noticed that Jungkook hasn't mentioned why you weren't at his apartment tonight.

His scoff was enough response that could be heard on the other end of the call,

"A fucking frat party"

Mingyu chuckles, thinking up a cheeky reply, but he was too slow.

Jungkook hangs up the phone, waiting patiently for a ring on his doorbell, not sure if he was still waiting for you or Mingyu.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"You'e insane Tae" you shout through the blaring music, barely able to hear the sound of your own words against people screaming and a bass stronger than any drug that was being done around you.

There were many of those, openly at that.

"Is that good?" He shouts back, grinning.

The party is as expected of a frat house party, about sixty college students running around the large apartment, a pool, many couches filled with girls and all of that jock stuff.

Bottles flying around in the kitchen which you found yourself standing in right now, all types of alcohol and cocktail mixes in bowls, what ever is them no one really knows.

Clothes seem basically optional here, most guys are running around shirtless, most girls running to the pool that´s a few feet from the huge glass sliding door around the corner, wearing either underwear or nothing at all.

Taehyung thankfully being clothed.

He did, as usual, have a stupid thought. Thinking it was a great idea trying to outdrink his friend that you had just met,

And already hate.

Jackson, a tall football player who's shoulders are as huge as his ego. He, like the rest of the guys, is shirtless, covered in hickies that wrap all the way around his neck.

Apart from the fact that he's made out with four different girls that all called him some variation of the word 'baby',

he has also been eye fucking you since you first saw him

To which Taehyung is oblivious to, or has been ignoring.

Still, he promised you not to leave your side throughout the entire night, as well as making sure you don't drink, like you had said you wouldn't.

"What? Think I can't win?" He says again when noticing you silently judging him.

You roll your eyes, hands throwing upward to express just how ridiculous he's being "Not about winning, it's a stupid idea. I'm not gonna pick your ass up the floor"

Taehyung laughs in return, throwing back his first shot, to which Jackson follows

"You won't have to"

Jackson smirks, "nine more to go Tae"

"Easy buddy, gonna kick your ass" his voice sounding cocky, already on his way to pour the next shot of vodka.

"Sure you don't want a shot miss goody two shoes?" Jacksons eyes wander to your cleavage,

Eyes are up here, you think.

"Sounding like a broken record at this point. No drinks" you scoff at him, grossed out by his shameless behavior.

In order to distract yourself from the situation, your eyes wander around the apartment, looking for anything interesting.

People making out left and right, no matter if "Va Va Voom" or "Fe!n" played, no one cared who was looking, what lyric was blaring.

It made you cringe inside when you spotted a guy grinding against a girl you knew from Piano lessons, right next to two guys taking molly.

Never going to a frat party again, you think.

Upon first arrival, it was really fun. Tae was dancing his heart out with you, making small talk with some people here and there. You could engage with them as well. Soon enough, he started drinking, making himself tipsy within a couple shots and a beer.

By then you realized you would end up having to look after him at the end of the night, not the other way around.

While you came to make friends, it was practically impossible. Sure, amaybe small talk. Sadly, it always led to the same outcome:

Every girl coming up tried to get it in with Tae and glared at you for being with him or was too drunk.

Meanwhile every guy either tried to get you to drink, tried to touch you, to which Taehyung did push them off immediately, or was also well, way too drunk.

So much for making friends, i guess.

Noticing you have been zoning out for a while, your eyes glance back to the guys in front of you, leaning against the counter.

Wondering how many shots it has been since you last looked.

Both set the small, empty shot glasses on top of the surface.

"Six. Four left to go Tae" Jackson looks relaxed, flushed out a bit but definitely stable, definitely not tipsy yet.

Taehyung on the other hand was slurring his words, a drunkenly hazed smile spread flat across his flushed pink face.

" 'course man. Bring it on"

Shaking your head, you ponder if it was even worth staying still.

Time is truly a weird thing because just when the thought was finished, the words "I´m leaving" at the tip of your tongue,

The guys have already taken another shot, the 7th one back to back.

Tae opens his mouth to speak, presumably about to brag,

" s'easy Jacks-"

but, he can't finish his sentence due to gagging and quickly covering his mouth with his hand.

Of course.

You wince at the sight, Tae stumbles back fast, running and making his way to the bathroom on unstable footing.

That's to not leaving my side tonight, i guess.

A few minutes with Jackson would be fine, you suppose. Tae would be back soon enough.

"Come on princess, take a shot too. Loosen up a bit"

His steps approach you as he talks, his voice sounding like a little devil, waiting to convince you of his foolish plans.

You laugh a small, annoyed laugh,

One hand running through your hair as you talk,

"How many times have i told you I'm not drinking?" unamused, as you look him up and down

But he steps one foot closer, finger grazing your arm maliciously, bringing shivers to your skin at an instant.

"Come on, you need it. Let me give it to you princess, now that Taehyung is gone"

Instinctively tug your arm back, ready to scream in disgust.

But his grip only tightens, a whole palm wrapped around your wirst now, trapping you in his hold as he squeezes.

Angry and scared all at once, you shout at him, the sound coming from the bottom of your throat.

"Fuck off, i told you im not interested"

The pop music playing betrays you, drowning out your screams, reducing it to a hopless yelp.

Filled with rage and mentally cursing at Taehyung for being careless, your eyes flicker to the way which he had left, only to find it filled with everyone but him.

Jacksons arm swiftly moves to grab your hip as he steps closer, his other hand making its way to your waist. He leans down, breath close enough to make every single hair stand up on your neck.

"Fine, if you wanna act so stuck up, hope you know how to swim bitch. Might pull out the stck from your ass"

Before you could process what words had left his mouth, you were lifted up over his shoulders as he ran out the glass door.

no no no no no

A second later you are submerged in the cold water of the pool, splashing loudly,

Not failing to catch everyone´s attention.

The reality of what you had dreaded surrounding you as your mind runs miles.

Muffled you can make out people shouting, the water drowning out the sounds ever so slightly, dimming your lights.

Shutting out any other thoughts.

Fuck.

Helplessly, your arms move, trying to fight your way back up.

Gasping for a breath of air once your face had finally poked out from the greedy water below you,

A laughter breaks,

And another one,

Soon enough it felt like the whole campus was laughing at you, calling you pathetic.

When you manage to climb your way up to the surface completely, holding on to the rim for dear life, you hadn´t yet fully grasped what was going on,.

Everyone else on the other hand had, phones recording your smudged, drenched face and hair, clothes clinging to every nook of your figure, working hard to drag you back down by the heavy weight.

Weakly you pull yourself out of the pool, the sound of laughter still humiliating you, along with Jackson proudly walking off inside the party again.

Probably searching for his next victim.

Absolutely petrified and fucking freezing, you run back to the kitchen were you had left your bag minutes ago. Ready to find Taehyung and get the hell out of this mess.

Minutes before you were thrown in a pool on your first and certainly last frat party, being caught on camera on top of everything.

While pushing through people, you do happen to spot Taehyung,

on the couch,

making out shirtless with a girl that, not surprisingly, Jackson had made out with tonight as well.

That must have been your very last straw, he had not even gone looking for you, not even thinking of why you might be gone.

The dam holding back tears of embarrassment and frustration breaking, evrey single tear you had in you beginning to flow down your face, merging with the chlorinated water that´s already coated along your entirety.

Grabbing your purse and running out, you call the only person you knew to call.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"FUCK YOU GYUUUU IM WINNING" the XBox Controller tightly clutched in his hand, hunched forward to stare at the screen that lights up his dark bedroom, Jungkook's voice rings through his apartment.

Fifa is not for the weak if you play with Jungkook.

"JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKER" Mingyu screams back, slamming the controller down on the teachers bed.

He lost again, 5th time in a row. There is truly nothing that Jungkook can´t do, it seems.

"Mad huh? Mad?" he laughs, punching into his best friends arm jokingly, a wide and proud smile provoking every one of Mingyu´s nerves at once.

The moment is caught off by his phone ringing, interrupting Mingyu in the middle of trying to deck Jungkook straight in the stomach.

He picks it up, reading your name on his bright screen.

Mingyu, as curious as he is, listens for any words he could make out, planing to use it for teasing Jungkook later on.

Only to be met with loud cries and hics,

"Jungkook please come get me, something horrible happend i wanna go home please pick me up, please come get me, ah fuck" you ramble through sobs, not being able to think straight.

Jungkook's eyes soften at the noise, his eyebrows meeting together as worry washes through his body.

He looks at mingyu who seems equally as worried.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay. Just send me your location, it's okay, i'll drive fast" while he says this, his body shoots up, tucking his phone between his shoulder and face to put on a jacket and gather his keys in the meantime.

Mingyu stands up with him, rushing to put on his own shoes and jacket.

"Thank you, thank you" you mumble again, trying to tap your phone through blurry vision, barely managing to hold it together any second more.

The sounds from the other end stop, his phone slipping back in his pocket.

"Fuck gyu i might end up in jail today if someone fucking touched her" he groans, jutting down the stairs with his best friend following.

"I'll bail you out. Want me to tag along? Might need some help" he asks, wondering what could have possibly made you this upset.

So does Jungkook, thinking of the worst possible situations, a pang of guilt running through him.

Should have come with her, he thinks.

Jungkook shakes his head, "No no, thank you tough. I don't want her to feel unsafe, she might not wanna see anyone right now" his thoughts continue running ballistic, from going to hold you and reassure you that it is okay, to strangling who ever made you sob, made you sound so scared.

Mingyu smiles, "Take good care of her. You care about her a lot, that's good" he pats his back, before making his way down to his own car while Jungkook unlocks his.

Sitting down and scrambling to turn the engine on, he drives as fast as he can through the thankfully empty streets, keeping an eye on your live location in anxiety that it would move.

When he finally spots you, crying messily, squatted down next to a random building, his car pulls over.

Having to fight back the urge to cradle you, wipe all your tears.

Sure, he had seen you upset before, seen you hurt after something and usually, he'd be annoyed,

Having to muster up some empathy.

Not this time, not when you were falling apart in the cold, in the middle of the road.

There was nothing put empathy in his system.

Jungkook runs out of the car, crouching down in front of you, his eyes scanning your figure.

He notices your entire body shaking, clothes clinging to you, soaking wet. Once his eyes move up your face, he sees your wet hair sticking to your face with eyeliner running down to your jaw.

Eyes red and lips trembling.

"Y/n what.. what happened" he reaches forward to set a hand on your arm, his thumb stroking your cold skin, hoping to provide any warmth.

Every thought of beating up the person who had brought you to this state leaving him,

All he cares about when seeing you so fragile is wanting to make you feel okay.

Your voice comes out broken, wiping your tears with unstable hands. Even in the dark of the night, you could make up the worried expression on his face.

You felt ashamed, embarrassed to have to call him, to make him see you like this.

The look on his face earsed every trace of feeling pathetic before his eyes,

Knowing you were safe now.

He had never felt so angry and devastated combined, desperately he wants to stop your tears. Longing for anything that would return you to your usual self.

"home please i, i will tell y-you later"

Jungkook nods, standing up as he signals you to stand up as well.

Holding on to the wall behind you, you get up, only to stumble forward. The cold on your wet skin is too much, the wind pushing you back to the ground,

contributing to your already triggered state of mind.

It is all too much.

His strong arms catch you from falling to the floor, wrapping around your own shivering ones.

"It's okay. Can i carry you inside? Don't want you to fall" his eyes scan for any reaction, any indication of you being even slightly uncomfortable.

But you trust Jungkook, you needed him right now.

So you nod, looking back at him with a noticeable look of appreciation.

Gently, one of his hands move to wrap around your shoulders as he crouches down slightly. His other arm wraps around your thighs, delicately swinging you in his arms bridal style.

The water is dripping on to his own clothes, but he doesn´t even feel it at all, he doesn´t notice how your tears trickle down to his shirt when you try to hold up your head.

How your hair was whipping against his chest with every step.

The way he touches you is sweet enough to erase the marks of disgust left on your skin by Jackson's filthy hands.

Slowly he walks to the car, ducking his head and back to open the back door without having to set you down.

The crying has stopped out of pure exhaustion, although the comforting smell of Jungkook's clothes did contribute a fair amount.

He has begun to feel like home.

His arms reach forward to lay you down in the backseats.

"Try to relax okay? Im gonna get us home fast, it's gonna be okay" he mumbles, stroking your arm reassuringly as he let's go of you.

You don't manage to react in any way, even if your heart had swelled up in your chest.

Jungkook jogs to the drivers seat, making his way inside the car again.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The whole ride was completely silent. Not even the usual humming habit of Jungkook sounding in the car.

With your back pressed on the seats in the back your eyes are pried open, red and burning from the make up and salt on your face. You´re thinking of blocking Taehyung and never wasting a word on him ever again.

Almost blaming yourself for giving in and coming to the party in the first place.

The car comes to a hold, the familiar street greeting you when you sit back up to look around.

Jungkooks eyes looking at you from the mirror, releasing a breath he had held for way too long.

Thanking himself internally for keeping your vow of not drinking.

He gets out, walking over to open your door and sticking a hand out to you.

You look up at him with the weakest smile he had ever seen, admiring you for even being able to muster up any smile at all.

grit your teeth sometimes and keep going, he had told you back in the hospital.

Your own hand clasping into his, heart skipping a beat as he pulls you up.

His hand never left your own until he had opened the door to his apartment.

He didn't need to ask this time, knowing you would take his hand.

It made him melt when you did.

"I'm gonna get you clothes okay? Sit down on the couch" the words ring in your ears wonderfully, feeling thankful for his help once again.

As he disappears into the guest bedroom, you run your hands down your face in disbelief.

Being thrown in a pool and called a bitch for rejecting guy was not your bucket list, ever.

Coming back with a hoodie and one of your sweatpants as well as socks, he sets them down next to you.

"Thank you kook" you mumble, looking to the floor in sheer embarrassment.

Jungkook had seen you in situations you didn't even know where possible.

"Don't worry. Im gonna get the hair dryer and make up wipes, just say something when you're done changing" his hands reach down to stroke your shoulders.

At this point you knew,

you knew that Jungkook had fully embraces you into his life.

The way his eyes look at you with no sign of the stern glare he still mingled with until now. The way his voice is rough but reassuring, the way his hands keep touching you in an effort to make up for the hurt on your face.

He locks himself in the bathroom, pulling out make up wipes from your cosmetic bag and gathering up the caple of the dryer while you sit on the couch, slowly changing your clothes into warm and dry ones.

Looking at himself in the mirror startled him.

Not even Jungkook could really recognize himself,

Sharp features of his reflection staring back at him with worry, asking himself if you felt okay on his couch right now.

"Done" you shout out, still choked up from the loud sobbing previously, throat itching slightly from the cold.

The door opens once again, walking to you before plugging in the dryer. He sits down, immediately looking at you.

"Here. Take your time okay?"

"Okay" your fingers reach to the wipes, erasing the traces of the ruined make up that you had put on beautifully hours prior.

A pathetic attempt to trust in people that had let you back down again,

Cruel world.

Turning own the dryer, you start combing through your hair softly, finally filling your freezing head with warmth.

Finally making your entire body as warm as the presence of Jungkook.

Silence returns to the room as the device turns off.

"Can i.. tell you about what happend?" wandering to gaze to his soften features, he nods, smiling briefly.

You take a deep breath before mustering up the courage to tell him about the party.

"Taehyung introduced me to this football player who tried to get me into drinking multiple times. He was shirtless and he was super provocative"

He continues listening as your voice becomes weaker.

"They decided to compete in drinking ten shots but Taehyung was already tipsy. And i- Fuck i told him not to. He didn't listen and at the like, 7th shot? He was gagging, stumbling to the bathroom"

You sigh, nervously recalling the events that felt so surreal now, your eyes finally moving to his. Catching him glint at you with nervousness himself.

"He fucking promised me not to leave me alone and- and and then he did and that asshole he-" by now tears are brimming back at your eyes, unable to let out the words in a straight line.

"He fucking touched me and when i told him to back off he called me a bitch and threw me into the pool. Everybody was laughing fuck, Jungkook people were recording it. It was so fucking- it was so"

You stop, aggressively wiping tears from your face, a scoff pained it's way to the surface,

"So humiliating. Even worse, Taehyung was making out with some chick when i managed to get out the pool" your voice is a bit more stable again, angry at the memory.

Resenment is a stronger emotion than sadness in this moment.

"Motherfucker. Both of them. Motherfuckers" Jungkooks eyes turned dark, glaring at the sound of what you went through.

You laugh a small laugh, "I know"

He inches closer to you,

"I'm gonna get them suspended. What was the friends name?" His expression is serious, determined of making them feel it.

You shake your head slowly,

"No don't- please don't go through all that effort okay? They won't make it long anyways"

He glares at you too now, before catching himself doing so, revoking it and replacing it with a neutral expression.

"Don't let them walk all over you. At least that football guy, im getting his scholarship revoked, what he did was assault. Please let me do this for you"

His voice is stern, he isn't asking.

And you knew he was right.

".. Jackson. Wang, i think"

He huffs, "He can kiss his degree goodbye. I'll find something to make em. Promise you. I might just strangle him myself if I'm being honest" he sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead in an effort to not snap and drive back to party.

A soft giggle can be heard inside the suffocating sphere of the living room.

He looks back up at you,

"What's so funny?" a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips,

You giggle again, focused on the way his lips look when trying to hold back a smile.

"You. Seeing you so worked up. I like it, makes me realize this friendship may not be that one sided after all"

He groans in response, leaning back against the couch and tilting his head to look back into your eyes,

"It took me carrying you to my car to make you understand that i care about you?"

Your heart jumping at the admission,

His eyes widen slightly as he hears himself admit to it, but he tries to conceal it.

Play it off like he isn´t surprised himself.

"Letting you live with me for damn near two weeks wasn't enough, huh?" His elbow digs into your side,

But you can't react, stuck on the fact that his teeth are lightly digging into the side of his lip, biting it softly.

Eyes wandering to his torso that is leaning back on his couch, his lap looking so inviting.

Only now noticing how close he is next to you.

It's his turn to chuckle now,

"Would pay to know what's in that pretty head of yours right now"

Another breath caught in your throat, eyes shooting back up to meet his,

They are ranking over you entirely,

Watching your every feature, studying you as if you were a piece of art in a gallery.

His flirty tone making it hard not to just risk it, crawl into his lap and tell him how you feel about his stupidly handsome face and his annoying way to care for you.

"Shut up, you're saying nonsense" your eyes roll to distract from the fact that you were caught red handed, shyly turning your face away from his form on the couch.

"Answer the question idiot. Did it seriously take this long for you to get it?" his voice is soft, sincerity laced beneath his words.

A long sigh makes it's way out of your mouth as you turn to take the same position that he's in, tilting your head to meet his eyes once more.

The moment is precious in a way, his face is so close you could count the moles on it, but just enough space not to loose any and all control.

"I'm not sure. I mean, i guess i knew you kinda cared, but, i think i mostly tried to gaslight myself into thinking you like me as a person and don't just see me as some sort of charity case" you laugh gently, keeping eye contact with him as you talk.

Although the words you're speaking are truthful, they aren't the full extent.

His heart clenches a bit when he thinks about it,

"Charity case? Fuck no, i mean" he pause, playing with his lip piercing,

"I guess it took me some time to get used to caring about someone else like this, living together and shit but i do like you. I find you annoying and obnoxious at times, and you still suck at photography, but i do like you, you're a good friend" his hand moves through his pretty, dark hair, trying his very best not to look down at your lips.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to hold back.

It was now, just now that he became aware too,

Aware that you weren't just a friend, roomate or a student to him,

That his feelings, his thoughts and urges weren't some sort of strange hormonal reaction.

Still, he hoped that saying it out loud would convince him that you are, indeed just a good friend.

He can´t help but notice how bothered he is by it.

You nod, almost disappointed at the way he ruined his lovely speech with three simple words.

a good friend.

"How nice of you.. thank you tho. No really, i, i appreciate you. You're.. a good friend too, Jungkook" you bite your lip softly, wishing for him to just move away or say something mean to lessen the tension.

He allows himself to look once,

Locking his eyes with your lips, noticing the small blush forming around your face.

It makes you look irresistible, naturally beautiful.

"You know I'm a liar, right? That i say a ton of things I don't actuallly mean?" his eyes are focused on your lips now, his voice almost breathless as he feels himself getting lost at the thought of you.

You scoff, chuckling softly right after,

"Absolutely, it's ridiculous, actually. But you know, i learned not to take every you say too seriously" your arm makes it's way to hit his chest playfully.

He laughs briefly, holding your wrist against his chest.

Eyes locked on your lips, just as he had feared they would.

You could practically feel your heart breaking out of your body,

Moving your palm to lay flat against his chest, you allow yourself to touch an inch of what you've been wanting to feel for so long.

"Well i just lied to you again. You're.. fuck. You're not just a friend"

The air in your lungs leaves you hanging completely, a breathless, thoughtless and emotion driven voice answering him

"I swear if you're playing with me right now I'm gonna-"

There was no time to finish your sentence,

In the blink of an eye, his hands are on your face, cupping it,

His soft, dreamy lips on your own.

There wasn't any time to process either as he pulls back briefly, just enough to whisper against your lips,

"You talk too much, and I'm not good with words"

As soon as the last letter leaves his lips, they are back on yours.

The way Jungkook kisses is as you had imagined, possessive and dominant, he needed to guide you.

Needed you to understand that he likes you,

Way more than just a friend.

Finally registering that he's actually kissing you, that this isn't one of your fanatsies, you kiss him back.

Your own lips moving softly against his, earning a small groan from him.

Melting into his kiss even further, the urge to hear his pretty sounds again overtaking you completely.

The strong hands that held your face in place move now, pulling you closer by your hips.

It makes you hum into the kiss,

Allowing him just enough space to lace his tongue in with yours,

Gently but firmly he keeps kissing you.

As infatuated with him as you are, you follow his every lead, moving in sync and savoring every single second.

Lips developing a mind of their own, Jungkook being the only thought.

By now, he is resting his large hands on your hips, shifting to pull you closer once again, sitting you on his lap,

One knee on either side of his hips, both your hands pressed firmly against his chest.

The way he pulled you to straddle him made you gasp lowly.

He smiles into the kiss, clearly affected by the way this conversation had gone,

By the way you react to his touches.

Naturally, your arms wrap around his neck, allowing your hips to rest on his, he hums in approval, gripping your hips and tightly and securing them in place for him.

Before you can wonder what all of this meant or where it was leading, he pulled back again, this time enough to get a full view of your flustered face.

At first, he doesn't say anything, making space for insecurity to creep up into your brain,

Apparently he can look into those too.

"To be clear. This means something to me. I'm not kissing you just because you looked fucking irresistible, but because i like you, i like you way more than I should. And if you don't, then you better tell me now"

Once again, his pretty face doesn't match his stern words, he's nervous.

You could tell by the way he licks his piercing, nibbling on the small metal ring.

If it was even more possible, your heart swelled with affection for him, desperate to tell him what you had felt for so long.

"I like you too. I like you way too much. Wasn't it obvious? I wanted this for so long"

Without wanting to waste any more time on things you could discuss later on, your head leans back down to kiss him.

He groans much softer this time, his hands ranking up to your sides, feeling them up slowly.

He needs to touch you, feel you, kiss you everywhere.

Just like he had imagined for long now, chopping it up to feeling touch starved.

But the words urge out of his mouth,

"I guess that means you're mine now" he mumbles against your lips in a sultry voice, the heat of the moment becoming far too much.

This wasn't just out of hormonal instincts, both of you could feel it.

A smile latches on to your lips, forcing you to stop kissing him for just a second

"Possessive, i see.. but i want to know much more about you first kook" your reply is sheepish, well aware that him calling you his was enough to turn your underwear see through.

He hums again, placing a hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb against it as his eyes move to your lips.

"I'll tell you everything you want later, let me keep kissing you first" his thumb drags down to your bottom lip, stroking it gently as his pretty brown eyes fixate back on your own ones, looking for resistance.

"Kiss me then" was all it took for him to close the gap once again.

Your arms unwrap around him, moving in anticipation when they reach the hem of his shirt.

You tug on it gently, asking for him to remove it.

He groans once more, "so eager" slips past his lips when he makes enough room to take the shirt off,

Revealing what must be the most beautifully, carefully carved person you have ever laid your eyes on.

His tattoos reach up to his shoulder, you've seen it before but it's even better when you get to touch them, carefully trace the lines with your finger tip.

His chest is firm, a broad set of shoulders that make his small and very well-defined abdomen look even more sinched.

The sight is truly breath taking, your hands caressing, touching everywhere they can.

He likes to think that it doesn't phase him, but the way his body shivers makes it undeniable.

"Done staring, doll?" he asks, the nickname sending a wave of pleasure straight through you as he tilts your face back up to look at his.

"Mhm.. you're just really hot" you can't help but giggle, finally being able to touch and kiss him, it makes you giddy.

Finally being able to utter out all your dirty thoughts, even if it embarrasses you.

He rolls his eyes, sneaking his hands teasingly under your hoodie, caressing the soft and bare skin of your stomach.

A low moan follows his movement, you attempt to kiss him but he smirkes, leaning his head back softly.

This time you whine, having already guessed that he's as much of a tease as he normally is too.

"You sound so desperate. Want me too take this off hm?"

You only muster up a small nod, in no time the hoodie is thrown somewhere, forgotten easily by the way his eyes sparkle when landing on your chest.

Roaming over your chest down to your hips, taking in every inch as his hands reach to grab them.

In one swift motion, you're tucked beneath him on the couch, his shirtless figure hovering over yours, veiny hands resting on your stomach, softly touching his way upwards.

"Just tell me to stop if you don't want anything" he's considered, gentle in the same way that he's demanding.

"Will do, but right now i really need you to continue"

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you again before moving to kiss down to your neck, softly burrying himself in it.

Hearing you moan and gasp was enough to make him lose his mind, make him want to give you absolutely everything you could ever ask for.

"Feels.. nice.." your hands play with his hair, holding the back of his head firmly against your neck.

He bites your neck in response, one of his hands moving to cup your chest in it, squeezing and groping firmly.

He keeps kissing, licking and gently sucking at your skin, trying to learn about every spot that made you moan a little louder.

Once he's satisfied with your neck, a short kiss is placed on your lips.

His head trails down to your chest, kissing from collarbone further south.

"You look even prettier than i imagined" he mutters against your skin, lips in the space between your breasts, kissing and sucking carefully.

"I-Imagined?" you manage to say between soft moans, to shy to let out what you really felt.

Your teeth biting down on your lip so hard it could have made an imprint.

He chuckles against your skin,

"Mhm.. many times doll, driving me insane with these pretty sounds, keep making noises" his voice is deep, underlined with desire.

"f-feels so good.." your whines filling is request instantly, feeling his lips wrapped around your breast as the other one is being gently cupped and squeezed, making you feel blissfully satisfied.

He switches sides after a couple more seconds, your eyes focused on his hand that looks so large compared to you.

However the sight of his bare and definitely well toned, broad back peeking out made you feral, needing to touch him too.

So you do, moving to wrap your arms under his, touching his back carefully as sinfully sweet noises come out of both your lips.

His lips move from your chest to your own, both of his hands groping your chest, moving and brushing over your spots carefully, hitting ever sensitivity.

He lets go of your chest just as he lets go of your lips, his hands making their way down to your waist, wrapping around and securing you in place.

Jungkook´s beautiful dark eyes can't seem to leave your body, licking his lips before planting gentle open mouth kisses down your stomach, nibbling at the skin every so slightly.

"Can i take this off?" his tattooed fingers playing with the hem of your pants, teasing and tugging beneath it with a sly smile on his face.

"Yes please" almost pathetically quiet you answer him, desperate for him to touch you, to make you see stars.

He nods, pulling down your pants to reveal white lacy panties beautifully placed over your core.

Jungkook doesn't like to waste time, so he moves his hands up and down your thighs while kissing your hip,

"So soft" purring against your skin, his lips move to kiss your thighs, hooking one arm gently under one leg, spreading them open. His kisses become more passionate which each one, kissing and nibbling the inside of your thighs,

Dangerously close to where you wanted him to be right now.

Your hand wraps around his soft curls once more, gently tugging, making him groan.

"Doing so well doll, i know you're desperate, so needy. Gonna give it to you yeah? Ask nicely" the way he sounds right now, raspy and gentle, the way he uses the nickname that rolls beautifully off of his tongue, it is enough to make you whimper.

Close to being speechless, you stammer out softly, needing him more than anything.

"Please kook.. touch me.. please eat me out, fuck this is so embarrassing" your hand untangles from his hair, both of them meeting to cover your face.

A small laugh can be heard before he moves his own hands up, prying yours from your face by your wrist.

He scans your face, your slightly parted lips inviting him to a kiss once more.

"Don't hide pretty, sound so good when you're this pathetic and desprate. Gonna give you just what you asked for"

He hooks his arm back under your thigh, the other one holding you by the knee. Letting his eyes wander down to your core for just a moment, he takes in the sight of your soaked underwear, basically transparent.

It made him twitch in his pants,

Knowing that he has just about the same effect on you as you do on him.

He presses a kiss your still covered clit, tongue poking out to lick over it, pressing the fabric to your skin.

It doesn't take long for him to move his tongue down to your entrance, licking slow stripes across and using the tip of his tongue to push the fabric into your slit a little bit.

It fills you with excitement and frustration,

"Please stop teasing me.. please" your whines are much louder now, annoyed that you're so close to finally feeling the relief you need.

Finally knowing how it feels to have him touch you.

He groans softly, quickly pulling the panties down to your ankles before latching on to suck on your clit.

The feeling is euphoric, nothing compares to seeing Jungkook's pretty face burried between your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit as his tongue gently darts across it.

He moves his tongue down, caressing your thighs with his hands, tasting every drop of arousal spilling out from you.

His body is filled with the need to feel your every reaction, touch where ever he can reach.

The tip of his tongue pushing into your hole ever so slightly, before moving to lick back up to your clit.

Ever since he started you haven't stopped moaning, softly rambling about how good he feels.

"Look so pretty.. fuck it feels so- so good.." your voice trails off into a whimper, the knot in your stomach tightening with each lick, his soft groans only intensifying the pleasure.

Helplessly your hips buck into his face,

he takes it gladly, humming in approval.

"You'll take a finger won't you doll?" he says as his pointer finger is already circling your entrance, ghosting over it.

As a response, your hips buck up again slightly, moving both hands to grab his shoulders, nodding furiously at his question.

"Words. Will you take it?´´ he repeats, his tongue returning back to licking your folds once he finished speaking.

"Yes, yes, yes will take it"

"Good, very good" he pushes his single digit in without any further warning, sinking in until his knuckle stops him, immediately pumping in an out.

"So fucking small doll, only my finger and you´re suffocating it, so greedy" the vibration of his low purring only supporting your approaching orgasm.

For a moment Jungkook allows himself to look at you, face fucked out completely, eyes weakly staring down at him,

Your mouth opened softly as gasps and whines leave your mouth.

It keeps him going to see you enjoy it, his finger speeding up as his licks become more firm.

The pleasure built up fast from that point, feeling like you would snap and come on his tongue and finger at any moment, clenching around it.

He moans softly on your skin when he feels it,

"Close? Are you gonna coat my finger with your cum pretty?"

"Jungkook- fuck yes, close. God, the way you talk is driving me insane" your legs pick up shaking again, fingers digging into his shoulders when your whole body shudders against him.

His voice, his hands, lips, face burried between your thighs, it all creats a beautiful picture, unforgettable.

"Come on doll, give it to me, let me taste it" his lips move to wrap around your clit,

Which is all that you needed to come undone under his touch, shaking and whimpering loudly.

He slowly retracts his mouth, stroking your thighs and gently moving his fingers to let you ride out the high, before removing it completely as you still pant from the pleasure.

Naked and slightly bruised chest moving heavily, clit swollen and throbbing.

He places a small kiss against your hip,

"Did so well, sounded so fucking pretty, taste so sweet"

You look at him wide eyed as he licks his finger clean, clearly enjoying every drop of your release he could get.

His hand reach down to your ankles, pulling your panties back up and kissing your newly covered clit one last time.

"Come here, calm down yeah? You on earth doll?" he chuckles in a cocky and low tone, pulling himself up next to you and placing a kiss on to your forehead.

The absolute aftershock and realization hitting you, immediately blushing the darkest shade of red and hiding against his chest.

"Oh.. my..god. what the fuck just.." mumbling against his chest he strokes your back and hair softly. A small effort to reassure you.

"No don't. Don't say it. I know what happened but.. i mean.. what.." you continue, not knowing how to act know, not knowing what to say.

Asking yourself if that meant you were his now, like he had said before.

"Well, you tell me. I said you're mine, you're the one wanting to know things" he puts one hand under your chin, lifting your face to his and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Although his eyes look neutral, his kiss is filled with care.

You smile against his lips,

"Fuck whatever i said, i can learn while being yours, if the offer still stands"

He scoffs, flicking your forehead once he pulls away from the kiss

"You're an idiot. Of course it does"

It was hard not to giggle when he's being so stupid after giving you the best orgasm of your life.

It's your turn to kiss him now, placing a small peck to his cheek and another one to his jaw.

His lips curve into a softy smile, "Come on, let's go to bed hm?"

Your head tilts at his suggestion, knowing full well that he's fully errect,

You can feel him pressed against you after all.

"But.. what about you?" he strokes your hair before holding your cheek in his palm, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Don't worry, i don't really care for that right now, besides I don't want to tire out miss virgin Mary hm?" his hand moves down to your chin, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and remaining fingers.

Instead of reacting, your entire body freezes, looking at him with an expressionless face.

"What? Think i couldn't tell? Come on, you were a mess from kissing, so tight around only a single finger doll. Not that hard to miss" he chuckles, kissing your forehead another time, all the while you wish you could disintegrate into the ground.

Sure, it might have been easy to tell, but did have to keep teasing?

"Oh my god you're unbelievable. Do you.. uh, mind that i didn't say anything?"

His hand moves to grab your hoodie that was surprisingly not far gone, tapping your arms to signal you to lift them up,

"No, i don´t. I get it, i mean, I'm not that experienced either and at my age that is kind of embarrassing to admit as well" he speaks carefully while slipping the hoodie back over you, moving some strands of hair out of your face.

You nod, smiling at his delicate gesture.

"I see, you're sure that you're okay?"

He rolls his eyes,

"Yes, I'm sure. Come on, let's go to bed, I´m tired, i know you´re too" he shifts, picking up his tossed shirt and your pants only to throw them on the couch when he stands up.

You´re still sitting, eyes moving down to the very visible bulge in his pants, straining them in a sexy and arousing way.

He snorts, waving a hand in front of your face before he grabs yours, pulling you up and leading you to his bedroom.

"Kook?" you ask him, a million questions running through your mind at once.

Everything that happened after the intimacy is so normal, almost thoughtlessly routine.

His presence being so comforting and complete to you, you did not even need to ask why you should sleep next to him, or if it was okay to do so.

"Yes?" he answers, pulling the covers on his bed back and stepping closer to hold you by your waist and staring you down,

A look of admiration on his face, his eyes practically screaming the words I love you

"So.. we.. uhm.. this is official now?" was somehow the only condensed version of all the thoughts you could gather together.

He smiles, lifting you briefly to lay you on his bed, climbing in to lay beside you, his hand immediately finding your face again.

"What does it look like? How many times do you need me to confess? Damn, im starting to think doll, that this gets you off" he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his warm body.

Your feelings for him intensifying in that very second,

"No, but i do get off on that nickname. And the way you're so touchy. Kinda cute" you scrunch your nose up, putting your arms on his body as well.

"Shut up. Sleep well yeah?" he says, tucking your head under his to stop you from seeing the shyness spread across his cheeks, accompanied by the smile visible in his voice.

"Sleep well, kook. but.."

"Oh my god what is it?" he groans, squeezing your body to show off his annoyance.

You giggle softly,

"Thank you. For saving my ass today and uh.. for, you know" the last words leave your mouth in a stuttered manner, too shy to speak out what you are referring to.

He scoffs playfully, "21 and can't say the word orgasm. Whatever, get used to it doll, gonna take care of you from now on"

Knowing it didn't matter how annoyed he was, nothing could take away the fact that you're falling asleep in his arms this very second.

It made both of your hearts melt.

[odusseus-xvi]

The French Speakers lore update cause we keep getting fed I'm not complaining ever again

General French lore :

- The Plane crash was planned. The survival of the five was planned, the deaths of the pilot and co-pilot are not considered casualties by the Federation. "He" was succesful in this mission.

- A flight attendant survived the crash but was heavily injured. Is currently under care from the Federation.

- (all of this was found by Baghera while looking for infos on her origins.)

ETOILES :

- Is an anthropomorphic Cucumber. Origins unknown.

- Has seen and been attacked by the Code on his first day while away from Spawn. Has missed every apparition for a while after that.

- Got his first fight against it during the election dinner. Ensued fights after fights for a while, with him being victorious in every single one of them.

- Got led and trapped in the Nether for a week. In which he was tasked with finding CPV02 , a legendary shield which counters the Code Sword. He found it and came back to the Island.

- Was then led to a coliseum where Code Pomme tried to trick him. He won the fight and got a broken half of a code sword : renamed IMMORTAL. Got a full sword at a later fight, and multiple messages telling him to "protect."

- His left arm started to use the power of the shield to heal itself. He lost his left eye in the process.

- Lost a fight against three Codes after that. Lost his Shield, Sword, and will to fight.

- Got taunted by the Codes and accepted some kind of rematch, which he won. The Code then made a proposal, help their fight against the Federation, and get his Shield back. He accepted, though said he would betray the alliance if they hurt thé islanders or the eggs.

BAGHERA JONES :

- Is a Duck-Human hybrid.

- Received a black Shulker with coordinates in her castle leading her to her childhood room. She was left shocked from remembering. The Federation retrieved her to prevent her from dying. She "woke up" around 2 weeks later in a Federation treatment room, which led back to her castle though a tp plate.

- Following informations are what she found in Books looking for her past.

- She was raised, experimented on and tortured by the Federation when she was little. She tried to escape by using a boat and a distraction using fire, but she failed.

- She had two caretakers. One was nice. The other replaced the first one, and looked like it, but was mean.

- She was fully created by the Federation along with other hybrids. She was probably a succesful attempt.

- Back to recent évents.

- She is extremely perturbed by the informations she got, and has been questionning her aliegeance to people of the Island.

- She burned any books that indicates her link to the Federation.

- Found a book containing coordinates and passwords of Fédération experimental laboratories, and departed to find out more.

- Was hired by the Federation to work at an extremely remote Federation Winery (1M blocks away from Spawn.) and traveled for a full week straight using one of his machines.

AYPIERRE :

- Is supposedly human.

- Started having dreams of having brain surgery performed by a White Bear. Succesfully built a Dream Printer Machine and printed this dream, proving it is actually a memory.

- Was appointed a health check by Cucurucho. It performed test on him, asking questions about his physical and mental health.

- Found hidden documents written by Fred. Following informations are what it relates :

- The Federation were after information he posess. They tortured him till almost death. They instead brought him back to health and got the information through performing brain surgery. (What they are after is currently unknown)

- Back to recent évents.

- He received a ticket to Quesadilla Island numbered 004 through the dice room.

- While falling asleep with the radio on, he received a vocal message from what seems like Cucurucho talking to it's "beatiful robot" and saying it was left behind, and would come back. He also received text message telling him that he would find thé answers by sleeping and dreaming.

ANTOINE DANIEL :

- ???

- Has a fourth face. It is hidden for a reason.

- Types "I hope you enjoy the island" in the global chat a bit too much for my tastes.

KAMETO :

- Left and is currently missing.

[grapejuicestyless]

part 2 for so long london w/ a happy ending please I loved it sm😭😭

loml.

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: After nearly a year apart and an album later, turns out you and Harry aren’t doing as well as you let off to be. Part 2 to So Long, London

Seeing him across the room even after all this time sends chills down my spine. I recall the warm feeling of his hands against my spine and the smell of gunpowder as he aims his pistol at my heart.

It’s funny seeing him now that he’s written down his feelings and published them like a diary for the world to read. I know more about his heart than he led me on to know. I know how he claims to have felt shattered inside with the realization he lost the “love of his life” and how we walked the fine line between being perfect and violently broken. But really, what is perfect when it comes to us?

He wrote down some things I just can’t unabsorb. His songs turning me into more of an idea of sorts. It felt like watching the story of our love from afar. The details were there, but they weren’t quite right. He writes about how we danced in the kitchen listening to trash pop music, but he leaves out the way we always stumbled over the chipped tile by the counters. Does he remember how he’d lead us there purposely so he could wrap his arms around my cold body and save me?

Seeing him now I can feel his eyes drift to mine every couple seconds, his gaze burning into my side profile while I down another glass trying to shake the feeling.

I feel stupid now, seeing him at our best friend’s wedding. He’s in a suit and tie, his hair curled around his eye and a red tint from the sun on his cheeks. I feel even more stupid wearing a green dress on the opposite side of the alter, holding flowers and smiling at how the bride and groom promise themselves in sickness and in health.

I’m not stupid though, I can hear the whispers about how we almost had it all. The flowers picked out from the catalog dull in comparison to the ones we had picked out for each other by the third week together. When I sit with the bridesmaids, I hear their snickers at the bride, how lucky she is to be the first married, how they always thought it would have been me.

But I’m a good friend, and a damn good actress. I can paste on a smile and act like the jokes they sneak into their speeches about how they never saw it coming, telling stories about the newlyweds that should have been about us are funny. But I can’t help the way I start to sweat when they begin to quote the same words Harry had written down for me.

All of our love story written down for the public to use, words he penned on the paper with my face in mind belong to someone new now, “I love you’s” whispered between couples who once dreamed of having a love like ours.

“I remember meeting you in September of last year, you were wearing a yellow dress and red shoes. You didn’t match, but you made it look good. I thought you were beautiful, I just had to have you. And when you decided to go for a guy like me, I knew you were the one instantly. Just like our good friend Harry once said, ‘She’s an angel, my only angel.’” I don’t listen to his heartfelt speech anymore, I can’t even look at the smile on my friends face as he serenades her anymore, I feel like someones just ripped out my heart and claimed it as their own.

And like someone was praying for me to cry, to finally break and show everyone just how not okay I am, his eyes are on mine, and he’s not looking away. When my eyes catch his, I mentally curse myself, wishing I could sink into the seat beneath me. I excuse myself to use the bathroom, grabbing the bottom of my dress to make down the long hallways of the beautiful venue that should have been ours.

“Y/n.” His accent is thick in the foggy room, eyes dimmer than I remember. He runs after me, voices from the reception muffled by the walls put between us.

My eyes trace over his body, studying the way he sighs out my name. Can he hear my heart crashing down as I realize I’ve lost my touch? I cannot tell if he’s relieved or obligated to be standing so close.

I swallow hard, his english accent drawing me back to the place I once loved so much. My new home dulls in comparison to what we once had, and I can’t help but still hold a grudge for him taking that all away from me, for ruining a sacred city and crushing it between his fingers.

“You look good.” I break the awkward silence that falls between us, his lips parted like an idiot, like he ran without thinking and forgot how to talk.

“Me? God, you look breathtaking.”

I would have blushed not long ago, curtsying at his comment and kicking my feet beneath the table cloth, but now the compliment is empty and instead feels backhanded in some odd way.

“Oh…well thank you. I tried my best.” I laugh bitterly, and the shine in his eyes tells me he misses the unhappiness in my giggles.

When he doesn’t speak again, I swear I can feel my skin shifting over my bones every time I breathe.

“Well, it was good seeing you.” I lie through my teeth, turning on my heals and wiping away any tears gathering on my waterline.

“You don’t have to avoid me, you know.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to avoid me. I know things aren’t the same between us, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still look for you in every room I walk into. You’re the love of my life, even now.” He confesses, stepping closer.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t. I’m not in any rooms you’re in anymore.”

“But maybe I wish you were.” He says with a smirk, stepping closer and trying to slip his hand into mine, but it’s like needles stabbing into my skin, I cannot hold onto him, so I slip away.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

He grabs me again, a hold so desperate to keep me in his grasp, one I haven’t felt in a long time. Classic move from Mr. Steal Your Girl. The man who promised rings and cradles, the dame man who swooned over the small things and rolled his eyes as he turned his back. Mr. Make Her Cry.

“Y/n I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“It’s not. It can’t be, we already did that right?” I turn to him teary eyed, my wrist burning under the grip of his cold rings decorated on his warm hands.

“No, that’s not what that was.”

“Then what was it?”

He swallows, but keeps looking me in the eyes like he means everything he’s preparing to say.

“We were so young. I was scared, and I pulled away. It was wrong, but I thought you’d be better off with someone who wasn’t afraid to grow up.”

“I would have waited. You know that.” He nods.

“I know. But it’s not fair.”

“No, whats not fair is you coming back to me after leaving me stranded in a place I can’t even fucking stand to be near anymore! God, you’re such an asshole, talking rings and talking cradles and then claiming to be scared for a future you planned. You don’t do that, not to the love of your life, and you sure as hell don’t leave them stranded and alone. How dare you think it was romantic to have done that to me?” I spit venom from my tongue, my eyes clouded with tears. “You promised to never leave, then what? Never mind? You think you’re such a hero for leaving me but in reality you’re a coward. Letting me think we had it all, we almost had it all and then you leave? What do I do with myself now that you’ve come back? Do you want me to forgive you? Harry, I might be the love of your life but you’re the loss of mine.”

“I know, I know.”

“Stop saying you know when you don’t!” I scream, quieting down as I remember where we stand, and I silently pray I haven’t spoiled such a beautiful wedding.

“I’m not claiming to have been a good partner, god knows about all my faults and I’ve gone away to fix them, and you’re here now, and I don’t know how I’ll ever find you again if I do not ask now, but I need you to listen to me now before it’s too late because I’ve never felt a hole in my chest like this, and I need you to see how badly I need you back in my life, I need you to trust me when I say I’m committed this time.” He pleads, his hands trembling in mine.

My lip trembles at the feeling of his skin on mine, my face colliding with his shoulder in a suffocating hug, I can feel myself falling back into his wicked grip, but when he holds me like this, it feels more like flying than falling, at least until the bone crush.

Standing in the hallway of a wedding built for us, but dedicated to another, I see us dancing in the kitchen again, the steps burned into my head as we waltz back into rekindled flames. His love is just so warm, fuck it if I get burned, if it falls apart again.

He’s the loss of my life, Mr. Writes Me Love Songs, Mr. Dances With Me In The Kitchen.

But for now, at least under the false illusion’s presented within this luxurious wedding, he’ll be the love of my life.

[pileofmush]

the sun still rises ☼

pairing ➸ monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

synopsis ➸ luffy catches something in the water. it's a girl, to his dismay. not a fish.

details ➸ tags: pt. i, angst, introspection // cw: very much a vent fic, near-death experience, struggles with mental health, i gave reader a name bc i can, an attempt at prose // wc: 1.4k // series m.list

Water crashes against a rocky shore. It whispers; it sings. Rising and rolling, the water recedes; it warns. 

A thud. Feeble knees collapse into wet sand. Salt lingers on your tongue, though you’ve scrubbed your mouth three times now. You choke on the grains still lodged in your throat. Blink the sand out of your eyes.

Alive. You’re alive, you think to yourself. Your cruddy boat is gone, washed away somewhere. But you remain—alive. And the sun still rises and the world still spins.

Not that the world would have stopped spinning had you died. Not when death makes the world go round. Still, the sun rises. Still, the ocean’s tide sings. The tide drapes over you, blocking out the sky. Perhaps you should have fled, when you had the chance. But you didn’t-- you don't, and the wave crashes over you as consequence. You are moved. Moved by the wave; moved by the weight of your circumstances. No one prepared you for this. Your mother didn’t dole out this particular lesson in her long spiels about the meaning of life. And now, she will never speak again.

Mother leapt. 

Mother crashed. 

Like waves against a rocky shore. 

If only you could take on the attributes of the sea. The sea knows no god. She does what she wishes. But you? You bend. Bend to the will of those who want harder than you. Bend to the magnificent wave’s power as it drags you back, back into the godless sea. You are nothing, in comparison. Flotsam.

You don’t want. But there are things that you don’t want.

For instance: you don’t want to return to your mother. 

Oh, you thought that you did. You thought a lot of things. You once thought your mother believed in the hollow words she said. She didn’t. You once thought dying would be easy. 

It isn’t.

Dying burns. Like the burning in your lungs. It takes, and it consumes, until there is nothing left of you but a mound of ash. 

And, dying squeezes. Squeezes you out like a dirty dish rag, until out spills every morsel of fear, frustration, desire and hope that once existed inside your fleshy body. And, there you are. Your essence, pooled into the ocean for all to see. And in your last few moments, you are left to wonder, perhaps I did exist; perhaps I should have lived. 

You inhale. You don’t want to die. There has to be more to life than drowning in the waters of a strange island, strange ocean, stranger world. Saltwater fills your lungs as you begin to mourn the life you never lived. 

Dying, you find, is a color. A deep, solemn purple. The color of a fresh bruise; the color of your mother’s wine; the color of regret.

Cupped hands cut through water, frantic, as you try to rise; as your head spins. Above the waterline, above your flailing body, the wind howls. It warned you, you know. The ocean warned you. And now the wind howls, though the wail doesn’t quite reach your ears. Not over the deep blue croon of the ocean, and your own pained gurgles. 

You can’t think, any longer. Only feel. 

Feel your fingertips just barely breach the surface. Feel your legs kick with a renewed sense of urgency. Feel the sudden intake of air—sweet, glorious air rushing through your body—almost too much, but not even close to being enough. Feel the hands that wrap around your torso like a lasso, firm and sort of rubbery. Feel your body fling through the air, and your stomach lurch, before you collide into a person. 

It knocks the breath out your lungs, and you choke, for a second time.

The same hand that deftly plucked you out the ocean whacks your back, while the other keeps you upright. You would wave your savior off if you had the energy. You possess no devil powers—you dare not make a foe of nature itself—yet the ocean saps your strength, anyway. Takes what little you have left to claim, like she took away your mother. 

You’ve yet to open your eyes, but you can reason you’re on a ship. You can hear the calls of a woman over the song of the wailing sea, preparing the ship for docking in the middle of a thrashing storm. You hear the grunts of men, and the flapping of wind-beaten sails, and the stamping of several feet, scurrying across a wooden deck. 

When you’re finally done hacking your lungs, the savior makes to set you down. Your knees buckle.

 “Woah there,” you hear them exclaim, then let out a boyish laugh. The stranger hoists you up by your arm pits, like you’re a drenched cat. “You’re not a fish!” 

This is true.

You blink the water out of your eyes. In front of you: a boy. Just a boy with a wide, proud grin, and a curved scar underneath his eye. A yellow straw hat hangs from his neck. 

You cough up water as a greeting.  

You know of this strange, savior boy. He belongs on fading, brown parchment above big, bold letters—Wanted; Dead or Alive—his toothy grin immortalized on the bulletin board outside the pub back home. But he isn’t just any old criminal. No, this boy is far worse. For he looks at the expansive blue sea—godless, boundless—and has the gumption to declare it his playing field. 

He looks at what the world has to offer him with wide, peering eyes, and yet, he is still not satisfied. Surely, the world has more to give. Surely, it has more to take. That’s what he does, and it’s what he will continue to do: take and take until he’s had his fill. 

He’s a pirate, after all.

The boy sets you down on the deck and you are finally centered—reunited, at last, with the ground. He’s kind of awkward looking: gangly and disheveled and bright, but his carefree countenance wraps it altogether and ties it in a messy red bow. He tilts his head at a 90 degree angle and stares at you point-blank, thin black brows furrowed in confusion. 

“If you’re not a fish, what’re ya doing in the middle of the ocean?” he asks bluntly. Like you could help getting swept up in the current of Mother Nature. Like his crew mates aren’t currently scrambling to safely dock this ship. 

Your voice sounds strangled when you speak, words getting caught in your throat and roughly tumbling out of your mouth. “Drowning. I was drowning,” you manage to say. 

The rocking of the ship you’re on is not kind to you. Hunched over, your hands brace against your knees as you huff. Your fingers are pruned grapes, wrinkled and trembling.  

“That’s dumb,” the boy tells you. “Just swim next time.”

Maybe he has a point.

You look to the sky. It’s a deep, foreboding gray, pregnant dark clouds looming above and promising rain. Somewhere, you register, behind the clouds… is the sun. It’ll set, yes, and plunge the realm into night, but by dawn it will rise again. And the world will spin. 

“Who’re you then, if you’re not a fish?” The boy draws you back to him, demanding your attention. His eyes are dark as coal, round with open curiosity. You burn under his gaze; greedy and intense. 

Your back straightens. “I’m Yuna.” 

“Like Tuna?” he questions.

“Just Yuna.”

He accepts your answer with a swift jerk of his head and a slight pout. In the distance, you can hear the woman from before calling the the ship to anchor. One of the men—this one has a slender frame and long, long legs—leaves the helm and drops an anchor to the ocean floor. 

Your gaze flickers back to the boy who saved your life. “I’m Luffy! Monkey D. Luffy,” he introduces himself, then reaches for his straw hat to place atop his head. A red ribbon wraps around the base. 

Things make sense when the hat is on, you think to yourself. He makes sense. 

“Remember that,” he demands and jabs a thumb towards his chest, something like passion lighting his coal eyes aflame. “You’re talkin’ to the future king of the pirates.” 

As if the heavens already bow to him, this future king, it begins to rain. He pulls off his hat and looks up. Water droplets kiss tawny skin. They roll from his cheeks, to his chin, down the curve of his neck. 

Rain, your mother liked to say, is good luck. Fathers renewal. Change.

You hope she’s right.

[mychoombatheroomba]

All That Remains

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 52

Leon, Krauser and the rest of the squad return to base, and deal with all that remains of it.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

TW for death, gore, PTSD and suicidal thoughts and just general trauma, please take care of yourselves and your mental health!

Leon had felt fear when he’d driven towards Raccoon City. After he’d had his first encounter with the undead, he’d been terrified, but he’d pressed on. He’d done it then out of a sense of duty. A need to help anyone he could. He’d been trained and able-bodied, he could make a difference. That was what he’d thought then, and he’d been wrong. 

Would he be wrong again? 

No. No, he couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be. That was all there was to it. 

That didn’t stop his gut from lurching as he heard the sound of a distant boom. Even miles away and through the dark trees, Leon could see the light of the explosion. It lit up the night sky, a bloom of orange against the black. He knew where that explosion had come from, and it only seeded dread in him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Williams murmured from Leon’s side, her eyes fixed on the windshield, horror painted clearly on her face. 

Too late. 

Too late too late too late.  

Leon couldn’t stop the thoughts from racing against his mind, bombarding him. 

“How far out are we?” he found himself asking, looking at Krauser with desperation. 

The Major pulled his lips into a tight line, his expression turning to stone. “Fifteen minutes.” 

Leon of all people knew that anything and everything could go wrong in fifteen minutes. His doubts, his fears, all of it pressed down on him, threatening to crush him under the weight because if you were-

“We’ll make it,” Alenko said, his eyes haunted but his voice firm. His hands were clasped tightly together in the dark, his thumb rubbing nervous circles against his wrist. “We have to. There has to be enough time.” 

Leon nodded. His friend was right. They had to do this. No one else could.  

They’d turn off the mountain path they drove down now, then it would be a straight shot to the main road. Then into base. Into the fire. Leon had often thought to himself that he would face down anything for you. Now, he would prove it. So the Humvee, with the ambulance in tow, raced down dangerous forest paths. Oblivious that they had been only fifteen minutes from missing a different Humvee, coming from the base, fleeing the fire left in its wake. 

⧫⧫⧫

Smoke. Blood. Gasoline. Burning rubber. The smells came to you before anything else. 

Then, it was the pain. 

Your head, your back; your whole body felt heavy with aches as you came to, the world a blur of blacks and oranges. Eventually, it was enough light for some things to come into view. Things like the windshield, cracked and buckled, or the steering wheel that you soon realized was hanging down on the other side of the vehicle instead of rising to meet you. It was then that you realized the Humvee had flipped and you now lay on the roof. 

Reed. He’d cut comms, destroyed the means of escape . . . perfect fucking plan. And you’d failed to stop it. Now, who knew how far away he was? He’d succeeded, and you’d failed. Just like Finland, you’d failed. 

That sinking feeling was only worsened by a familiar sound. One that jolted you fully awake. 

Shuffling feet against pavement, the sound barely audible against the ringing in your ears and the still-burning remains of the motor pool. You could see them, shambling about outside the wreckage of your Humvee, boots scuffing against the pavement with clumsy steps. Drawn by the sound of the explosion, no doubt. You didn’t know how long you’d lay there, unconscious from the crash. Time enough to find yourself surrounded. 

You could make out the stock of your rifle, lying on the roof of what would have been the back seat. Only the throwing knife you’d stashed in your fatigue pocket was close, which you reached for in a pained desperation. 

Just in time, too, as you felt a hand close around your ankle. 

You jumped, adrenaline tossing the pain in your body aside, the need to survive taking you by the throat. You kicked, scrambling away. Eyes wide. Reaching for your gun to no avail.

A snarling form met your vision, crawling in through the driver’s side window of the Humvee. Hands stained with blood reached out for you again, and you moved backwards, reaching over yourself with your free hand. Tried to open the passenger side door, only to hear a pounding against the intact glass and a hungry growl from the other side.  

Not that way-

When the zombie crawling its way inside reached for you again you snarled yourself, your mind driving you to fight. To survive. 

Your knife came down into the skull of the crawling assailant, the sound enough to make your skin crawl. Still, it was enough and the corpse died its second death, just in time for another to drop to its knees outside and take its place, clawing its way into the shattered window. 

Your knife wouldn’t budge from where it lay embedded in bone and brain. 

Leave it. No time. 

You shifted with your teeth bared, panic starting to swell in you as the third attacker pulled itself up the body of its fallen brethren. 

Need a weapon. Need my-

You moved under the seat backs that now hung over you. Army crawl. Like you were moving under razor wire. Or, now, like your life depended on it. 

Your hand found the stock of the rifle.

Another hand found your leg. 

The rifle was at an awkward angle, but your aim was true. The muzzle flashed, illuminating the remnants of a face you’d known. One of the soldiers who’d maintained the vehicles here, the ones that were all, no doubt, in ruin and wreckage outside. You could see blood on his mouth, a vacancy of spirit in his eyes. And then there was a splattering of gore as the bullets put an end to him. 

Not him. It. This wasn’t a man anymore. Not a comrade. 

Neither were any of the corpses walking around outside, drawn by the sound of your struggle. 

You couldn’t stay here.

You took a ragged breath, reaching for the back driver’s side door. Its window was gone too, but crawling would leave you more vulnerable. Better to slip through a fully open door. You hadn’t had time to combat-lock the doors before the explosion hit. The metal opened for you, and the heat of the fires around you hit you. 

Moving forward, you stood, finding yourself dizzy. Surrounded. 

The corpses growled, undead hands reaching for you as they moved forward. 

All you were missing was the snow and the wound in your side, and it was almost the picture of your past. The hell that should have killed you. Dying here would do, though. If it came to that. 

⧫⧫⧫

But it couldn’t come to that. God, don’t let it come to that. 

Leon could only pray to whoever was listening as they passed the gate of the base. One that was guarded by only the shells of men. His prayers barely drowned out the sound of Krauser’s command, echoing in his head. Go for the head. No matter who it was. 

Even if it was-

No. It wouldn’t come to that. 

There were no words from the soldiers at Leon’s side, just a tyrannical silence that settled in, taking ownership of the space in the vehicle. Brows furrowed at the sight of their home, the one place that Leon and everyone else had thought would be safe, consumed by death and fire. A fire that raged to their right, in the smoldering ruins of where the other vehicles had been housed. 

Ruins that, Leon swore, he heard gunfire from. 

“Major,” he spoke, unable to stop himself because if there was anyone still alive-

“I hear it,” Krauser growled, his eyes shifting towards the glowing flames and the bodies they could see shambling amidst them. 

Leon could feel his body readying itself, his conscience begging him to go. To help. The Major’s teachings, the brutality they’d all endured, the countless times he’d been told not to be a hero . . . none of that mattered in that moment. Someone needed help. So, Leon looked to Krauser, his eyes almost pleading. 

Krauser, who’s own eyes flitted between the path around base to the armory and the fiery remains of the motor pool . . . and the figure they both glimpsed pushing their way through advancing undead, a rifle flashing faint against the blaze. Too far to make out who it was, just now. 

Didn’t matter, though. 

It was one of Krauser’s men, and Leon had learned that no matter how much the Major asked of them, no matter how badly he beat them down, when it came down to it, Jack Krauser would do everything he could to keep his men alive. So Leon wasn’t surprised when the Major tightened his grip on the wheel and cracked his neck, turning off course. “Get ready,” he snarled to his men, and Leon obeyed. Krauser radioed Hellman in the ambulance trailing them. Told him that he was stopping to help a survivor, and then they were speeding ahead towards the fight. 

Whoever it was . . .

⧫⧫⧫

You wouldn’t die alone. 

No, you would take as many of these things with you as you could. 

Bullets tore into decaying flesh. 

Lungs filled with smoke. 

Eyes pierced through the night. 

They fell before you. One after the other. A mercy. A necessity. More and more and you moved to escape the debris of the motor pool. Moved and killed and you were no longer you. Just the charred wreckage of a person. There was peace in your rage. Tranquility found in the tide of bloodshed. Right up until your rifle clicked empty, and there were still more foes between you and escape. 

Your practiced hands turned the rifle in your hand, swinging it hard at the first zombie to come at you. Then another. More and more until you felt hands grabbing at your arms from behind. Desperate, you shook them off and turned, breaking teeth free of a rotting skull with the butt of your rifle. 

Trying to kill as many as you could. Nearly missing the sound of tires approaching in your struggle. Then you and your opponents were illuminated in the harsh glow of headlights, an engine roaring towards you. 

Those headlights flashed, so close , and then there was a sickening crunch of bone and flesh.

⧫⧫⧫

The entire Humvee rose and fell as at least one of the bodies was crushed under the tires. Leon felt his weight shift forward and braced himself as the huge vehicle came to a halt, and as he looked out the window . . .

His heart stopped.  

You. Framed in fire and painted in blood, fighting with everything you had. That was the sight he glimpsed as he looked out that window, and he’d never felt the need to move, to fight, more in his entire life. 

That made him all the more ready to answer the call. 

“Kennedy!” Krauser roared, “go, now!” 

⧫⧫⧫

You barely registered the sound of a car door opening, or the sound of someone dashing towards you. You were preoccupied with the two undead struggling to bring you down. To tear you apart. 

You snarled. Bared your teeth at the jaws threatening to close around you-

⧫⧫⧫

And then he was there, the laces of his boot colliding with a skull, taking down one of the two bodies around you. It wouldn’t kill it immediately, but he didn’t need that. He just needed to get it away from you. He just needed to give you time to-

⧫⧫⧫

Move. 

You took the opportunity given to you. Bashed your remaining attacker hard in the face, then moved to its side. A kick buckled its knee, and once it was on the ground you set to work. 

The rifle’s stock cracked against the skull over and over and over. Blood sprayed up at you, coating the gunmetal and your hands both. Still, you kept going. Not hearing your name called. Not feeling-

⧫⧫⧫

His hand found your shoulder, the other stopping your swing, and your head snapped towards him. He was exhausted. Drained. But seeing you was a shot of adrenaline into his veins. Blood trickled down from your hairline, it splattered your skin. Your eyes were wild, frenzied, terrified. 

“It’s me!” Leon said, his voice breaking. 

You jolted in his hold, trying to pull your rifle away from him. Like you couldn’t even see him. Like his words were hollow. 

So Leon moved, and-

⧫⧫⧫

You froze as you felt him take your face in his hands. 

Someone shouted at the pair of you from the Humvee. A gruff voice. Familiar. The sound was lost in the din of violence in your head, to the pleading voice of the man holding you. 

“It’s me!” he repeated, and at last you made sense of what you were seeing. 

“Leon.” His name was ragged as you spoke it. The remnants of something fraying and falling apart. 

He nodded anyway, giving you a half-smile. “I’m here.” 

Here. He shouldn’t be. He should be up in the mountains, far from this hell. Safe-

Something reached for him out of the corner of your eye. Half a body, trailing guts behind it from under the Humvee that had come to your rescue. One hand wrapping around his ankle, his distraction with you allowing the creature to pull itself forward. 

You pushed him to the side in an instant. Stomped down on the back of the zombie’s neck. Heard vertebrae separate beneath your heel. 

And then you were back, moving once more. 

Your hand around Leon’s, you pulled him towards the Humvee, ushering him inside, your head pounding but your focus resharpened. He didn’t protest, pulling you in after him. The door slammed shut and you were met with familiar faces, each looking at you in concern and relief. Williams brought a hand to your shoulder. Valeria let out an almost unnoticeable sigh. Alenko tried to smile at you, only for his face to fall back into a grave mask. 

And Leon held on to you all the while, not caring if anyone saw. Not anymore. 

Not even Hellman, when you all reunited outside the armory. Hellman, who beheld you with dawning horror. Who stepped back as your eyes flared with pure and utter rage- 

⧫⧫⧫

And who may have only been saved from that rage by Leon’s hand in yours and the arm Krauser placed across you, halting your advance mid-stride. “Sergeant,” the Major cautioned, his tone strained, but his authority intact. Even as you met him with an inferno stare. 

“You can’t trust him. It was Reed. He did this." That was what made you look at Hellman with such scathing suspicion. "How can you be sure he wasn’t involved?” you hissed, more sure of this than you’d ever been sure of anything. Krauser looked at you, his eyes searching yours, looking for answers in your mania. 

As if it would take much to convince him. 

“You saw Reed?” he asked, maintaining his own rage, if only just. “You’re sure?” 

“Someone sabotaged comms. And the motor pool,” you insisted, looking over at Hellman. “Someone cut the power before it all happened, and everyone on base gets fucking sick at the same time. Who better than the CIA motherfuckers sent to-” 

“If I was involved,” Hellman said, his tone as even as he could manage, “I wouldn't have driven back down here and put myself in harm's way. I would have killed this entire squad and the Major too during the test.” 

The words made even Krauser tense, but Hellman continued, his reasoning sound and delivered with brutal honesty. 

“I would have done it quickly. Efficiently. Not one lone attacker that could be taken down so quickly.” 

One attacker? That meant . . .

Krauser’s hand on your shoulder tightened. Forcing you back to reality. “We need to get inside. Then we debrief.” 

So you did. You all moved carefully into the shooting range. There was one guard there, like always. He snarled and swatted at you all, but Krauser moved faster. Snapped his neck and dragged his body outside. When he returned and everyone had filed into the building, he looked at you.

“Sergeant,” Krauser said, his voice more worried than you’d ever heard it. No, that’s not true. You’d heard fear in his voice before as he carried you from the snow, urging you to stay awake. “Talk to me.” 

A situation report. That was what he was asking for, and that was what you gave as he sped towards the shooting range. You didn’t dare look at Leon the entire time you spoke. You didn’t look at anyone. Not until Krauser confirmed to you that the attack hadn’t been just on base. You felt your gut sink at the mention of Doc’s assistant. The one who’d swapped out with him to oversee the final test. The woman who had given Grayson her meal out of kindness. The woman who had torn out Alejandro’s throat. 

Another dead body. Another comrade you couldn’t save. 

⧫⧫⧫

He won’t be the last. That terrible truth wrapped Leon in a cold embrace as you all burst into the range, arming yourselves. Thankful that STRATCOM had provided live rounds for practice. Nothing but the best for the best. 

The best gear, the best training, and it hadn’t made a difference. 

No, Leon breathed, forcing his mind to level out. 

You were alive. Somehow, by your own hand and by the mercy of fate, you were alive. Leon clung to that victory as he slid a knife onto the back of his belt. Even if, by the look in your eyes, you didn’t take it as a victory. Leon had seen you disappear into yourself before. He’d seen you bloodied before. 

But this?

You weren’t just hiding in yourself, you’d let the dark swallow you whole. He could see it in your movements. Precise and cold, your eyes piercing in their ice. The day he’d met you, he’d glimpsed this. Now . . . now he was beholden to a mutation all its own. 

One that he could feel in himself, too. One that would have overtaken him completely, if you weren’t there. 

When this was done, he would hold you and you would hold him and then you could try to excise that darkness together. He had enough strength to believe that. Strength gifted to him when, for a moment, you met his eyes just before the group marched out. In that moment, he saw the ice chip and shatter, the little light in your gaze flickering to life for him. No smile. No expression of hope. Just acknowledgement that he was there and so were you.  

That was enough. 

But then that moment was broken-

⧫⧫⧫

And the work began. 

The med bay first. Then the other buildings on base. 

Krauser and Hellman led the way and you fell into their shadow easily. Watching the CIA agent as much as you watched your surroundings. Leon remained ever at your side, as did your friends. Friends who could die if they were bitten or scratched. Hell, even you might die. There may be a scratch on you that you hadn’t realized was seeping poison into you. You wouldn’t know. Not until it was too late. 

It would be long enough, though. To destroy what Reed had done to this base, and to save who you could. 

To make sure that Leon made it through this. That the others made it through this.

So, you pulled the trigger when you had to. You brought down men and women you’d trained alongside, those who’d trained you, who’d stood vigil day in and day out, who’d served you meals and given you snarky remarks or polite smiles. 

⧫⧫⧫

He hadn’t known anyone in Raccoon City. It had been a terrible vision of what might have been. 

But Leon knew these men and women. And as the squad moved in bursts of gunfire, coordinated and brutal, Leon would look away each time he pulled the trigger. Had to. Not that it would matter. The faces would haunt him either way, just as they would haunt you. More ghosts. More names. 

It had to be worth something. They had to save some. 

The med bay. Where Doc, his assistant and the recruit who you said had seemed unaffected had been left. With you, that made four. Four lives that Leon held out hope of saving. But as they approached the infirmary, he felt that hope fading. 

The squad’s flashlights shined, the only source of light in the dark, and they illuminated red streaks on the windows. Bloody handprints, broken glass. The main door to the building was open, a smearing of red on the ground, leading them inside. 

He couldn’t . . . 

Like ghosts, they entered the building, Krauser and Hellman in the lead. They found bodies, scalpels stabbed into flesh or skulls caved in with blunt force trauma. There had been a fight. That didn’t stop them from encountering shambling corpses, though. Ones that were put down quickly. Aim for the head, just like Krauser had instructed. No matter how much each bullet marked a new toll on Leon’s conscience, weighing him down as much as the exhaustion in his bones. 

He couldn’t . . .

Press in. Stick close. Stay vigilant.

Leon followed Krauser’s silent orders, moving in to clear the main sick bay just behind Krauser, Hellman and you. Gunfire filled the room, flashing as corpses fell. Other rooms shared the same echoes as the squad cleared the building, a song Leon would never forget, one that filled his ears and made his heart pound heavy in his chest-

Just as the figure that lunged at him did. The mess of flashes and noises made the shadows deeper, and Leon didn’t see the figure moving until it was too late. He lifted his rifle, but a blooded hand knocked it out of the way. His muscles protested as the full weight of someone else’s body slammed into him, lack of sleep sapping his strength. He tried to angle his weapon, to find a way, a place to aim the barrel-

⧫⧫⧫

Then a flash of silver arced towards him, and the attacker fell to the ground. 

Not you. You wished you’d been fast enough. 

No, it was Major Krauser that stood over the fresh kill, wrenching his blade free of the body now still on the ground. You watched as he turned to Leon with a snarl. “You have a knife, rookie. Use it. It’s faster up close.” He leaned in, meeting Leon’s eyes. “You know better. Focus. And keep your eyes on your targets.”

Another grim lesson. 

Not the last one the night had in store for you. Oh, no. No, even the sight that greeted you as you searched the now silent building wasn’t the night’s final, brutal instruction. 

You found him in what had once been your old room, the door locked, just as you’d told him to keep it. Only Grayson wasn’t alone. He must have let Doc and his assistant in, at some point. And even if he’d been careful in doing so, the undead had shattered the windows to get to them. The same windows you’d spent so long staring out of, wishing to move. To fight at Leon’s side. 

Well, you’d gotten your wish. 

Now, this room that had once been full of music was silent, but for the ragged breathing of the two souls standing at the ready, each holding makeshift weapons. Grayson and the assistant, both covered in blood, looked ready to collapse when Krauser and Hellman made their way inside. “Don’t shoot!” They implored, their speech clear and terrified. 

Bodies lay strewn across the floor and over the bed, making a bloody artwork of the room you’d spent so long in. 

“Doc?” you dared to ask, once the room was confirmed to be clear. 

You didn’t know why you bothered to ask, the way their eyes fell was answer enough. In the wake of the bloodbath you’d missed . . . you couldn’t even tell which body was his. 

⧫⧫⧫

It was hours before it was done. Hours of clearing barracks and offices, making sure that every last threat was put down. There could be no room for error. By the end of it, Leon lost count of the corpses put to rest. The survivors were easier to tally. 

Three survivors of the base. Eleven from the testing grounds. Fourteen in total. 

Out of every soldier on base, dozens of personnel, of recruits . . . fourteen people lived to burn an S.O.S. into the ground, as if the smoke from the motor pool explosion wasn’t indication enough already. The corpses were burned too. A massive pyre that should never have had to be lit. Some had already been charred, or damaged beyond identification, but even so, Leon couldn’t find Reed anywhere amongst the bodies. 

The survivors all watched on through the night, a silence falling among the group. There was nothing to say. No words that would make it right. 

It happened again.  

It wasn’t supposed to happen again, not like this. Not here. 

Leon’s mind refused to accept it, his breathing labored as he stared ahead at the flames. You stood beside him, your eyes just as empty. Just as distant. Leon debated reaching for you. He wanted to. More than anything, he wanted to. But in the wake of the shock you’d all experienced, he found himself unable to move. 

As dawn began to break and the sound of sirens filled the air, Krauser moved, signaling the group with a stiffness Leon had never seen in him. “Move out.” His words were hollow.  

With just a moment’s hesitation, the squad nodded. They didn’t make it very far, though, before Williams spoke, her voice cracked and brittle. “Where’s Alenko?” 

Leon stopped, dread coiling in his stomach. The older soldier had been with them through the fighting. He’d been there as they collected the dead and piled them. He must have slipped away. But why? 

Krauser had energy enough to grimace as he looked for the missing soldier. In the end, though, Valeria stepped forward. “We’ll go find him, sir.” 

With a nod, your little group split from the rest in search. 

You didn’t have to look far. 

He sat against the edge of the officer’s barracks, just beneath the window to Krauser’s office. No music, this time. Even the birds that would usually greet the dawn were silent. Only Alenko’s heavy breathing could be heard, intercut with the sound of wet coughing, his shoulders rising and falling, his eyes downcast. 

That gaze was fixed on the trembling pistol in his hand. 

“Logan?” Leon asked, using the name he’d known for so long but so seldom used, looking between you and the others as he approached. 

The older soldier squeezed his eyes shut, then looked up at the others slowly. Only then, in the breaking morning light, did Leon realize how pale Alenko had become. He looked up at them all, a bleak resignation in his eyes.

No-

“Finally got past the last name thing?” he asked, trying and failing to smile. 

Oh god please-

“What are you doing?” Williams asked, her voice full of fear. Fear for their friend, for a man who’d only ever been a kind and connecting force in the months they’d known him. 

A man who, with a soldier’s resolve, found it in him to laugh, even if it was a dry, humorless thing. “Waiting for sunrise,” he told you all, looking towards the horizon. “Seemed like a good thing to do.” 

“Alenko-” Valeria stepped forward, but the man pushed up the sleeve on his wrist. There, just under the sleeve of his fatigues, was a tiny, tiny little cut. More a breakage of skin than anything, but with enough that blood lined the wound in red. And around it, was a network of veins and rot. 

Leon felt his heart fall deep into his belly, eyes wide. 

Alenko, though, just shook his head. “I didn’t even feel it, at first,” he admitted, shame clear in his voice. “But it was after Alejandro . . .” he couldn’t even say it. “Then I thought, well, maybe it was small enough, or not deep enough-” a coughing fit cut off his words, and Leon felt frozen. 

Helpless. 

He’d felt that far too many times before. 

“I, uh,” Alenko went on, biting his lip, his voice strained, “I can feel it, though. So, you know, I tried to do the right thing. The noble thing.” He raised and then lowered the pistol in his hands, shaking his head, eyes shining in the dawning light. “Couldn’t, though. I . . .” he looked up, then, his eyes finding Leon’s, and the weight of so much sorrow bore down on him in that gaze. “I couldn’t-”

Williams moved first, kneeling at his side, wrapping strong arms around Alenko’s shoulders. Valeria followed, not hugging him but being there, at his side. The three of them huddled together, clinging to a man who would slip away no matter what they did. 

Leon couldn’t move, though. Not at first. He couldn’t reconcile what he was seeing with what his mind tried to tell him; his mind, saying this wasn’t real. Still fighting the reality. 

And you . . . you were the same, just staring at Alenko, jaw tight. Leon wouldn’t blame you for that reaction. He would forever blame himself, though, if he wasn’t there for his friend. 

So, he approached, dropping down to the dirt at Alenko’s side, his whole body numb as he was forced to accept the reality of this once more. Forced to watch as the shattered fragments of his world were pulverized further. He was going to lose another friend. And not only lose, Leon realized, as Alenko looked up at them all. “I can’t do it myself,” he said, his voice utterly defeated, his eyes shining. “I . . . I can’t ask you to, but . . .” 

But he was asking. 

“Please,” Alenko - Logan - implored. “I don’t want to become one of them.” 

The plea was all it took, because Leon was intimately familiar with that fear. Even if he’d never become infected himself, he understood. He wouldn’t want to die as some monster, his soul buried inside a husk of who he once was. Few things in this world scared him more. 

So, as Dina and Valeria looked between each other, their reluctance plain, Leon reached his shaking hand forward, resting it on the gun in Alenko’s grasp. 

Alenko looked up, meeting Leon’s eyes once more. Shame, guilt, relief. All three were plain to see in his eyes as the soldier whispered a “Thank you.” 

Leon nodded. That was all he could do. He and the others rose to their feet, and the world seemed to go still. The gun that Leon took from Alenko’s hand was heavy. Heavier than he could ever remember one being. His lip trembled as he stepped back, his body moving but his mind blank. Back in Raccoon City, he’d had to bring Marvin down, but that had been after he turned. After the person he had been was gone. Alenko was still here, though. Still looking up at him, fully himself. 

He had to do this. He had to, for his friend . . . 

But as Leon stood there, he found he couldn’t lift that hand. 

Not as Alenko looked up at him, giving Leon a small, sad smile, a bad mask for the fear that was welling in the soldier’s heart. Leon could see it. Fear. Fear to die, to end. Fear of becoming something else, but fear of this, too. Of the gun in Leon’s hand that shook, pointed at the ground. “It . . .” Alenko spoke, taking a shuddering breath. “It’s oka-”

A gunshot, clear and powerful, made Leon flinch, his eyes widening in horror. 

Alenko’s expression went slack, no time for surprise to even register on his face. He fell to the side, curled against the wall and dust. Gone. Just like that, in less than a second, he was gone. Leon blinked, his lips parting, pistol still at his side. 

He looked over just in time to see you lower your rifle. 

And he nearly didn’t recognize the person holding that gun. 

You stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on the body now lying there, dead at your hand. Face and hands stained with blood, no more frenzy in your eyes. No warmth, no ice . . . nothing at all. 

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Index

Tag List: @greywardensaywhat

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Epilogue

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo X OFC (Natalia)

Series Rating: Explicit (18+) Word Count: 3.6k

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with the resulting mental health struggles. Just when she has settled into her new normal, she meets a handsome stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor with a heart-breaking past named Dieter Bravo. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives.

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, drug use, alcohol abuse, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “No. No…you’re the reason conditions exist for this."

Five Years Later

I could feel Dieter’s lips lightly grazing up the back of my neck as he pulled me tightly against his chest. I glanced up at the clock on the nightstand through squinty eyes and groaned at the early morning hour. 

Dieter nuzzled his face next to my ear, “Come on baby, we need to get up. Everyone will be here soon.”  

I scoffed and pulled a pillow to cover my face, “Soon? We still have a few more hours.” 

He whined, “Oh come on…I wanna take advantage of our alone time while we still have it.”

Sliding the pillow from my face, I turned to arch a brow at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about…we never have time to ourselves.”  

He kissed down the side of my neck, moving to hover over me as I settled on my back. His lips met mine briefly before murmuring between gentle kisses, “Shhh, don’t jinx it. We’ve got at least an hour before all hell breaks loose.” Just as his hand began to make its way down my body, there was a crash from downstairs followed by a loud commotion. We both groaned as his forehead dropped to mine. He chuckled, “Aaannd there goes the gate…I’m blaming you for this. You spoke it into existence.” 

I shook my head and smirked up at him, “No. No…you’re the reason conditions exist for this. It’s your fault, so I’ll let you go deal with it while I sleep in. Also, you owe me now…and I’m charging tax.”

Dieter feigned a look of shock, “Geez…such a steep price for withholding sexual gratification…” He rubbed his nose against mine, smiling, “I’ll happily pay it tenfold first chance I get, mi amor (my love).” 

He leaned down for one last kiss, lingering for a moment as I scratched at the gray patches in his beard. He finally moved to get up and quickly threw on a pair of boxer briefs and gym shorts. As soon as he opened the bedroom door, Moony raced in and jumped on the bed to attack me with kisses. Dieter paused in the doorway, laughing at my grumbles and attempts to get Moony to settle down so I could go back to sleep. Just as Moony started to calm, we heard a small voice from downstairs yell, “Molly is in the pantry again and I can’t get her out!” 

Dieter’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped. It was my turn to laugh at him now, “You wanted to take care of the baby goat, so you deal with it.”  

He sighed, “I think I need to install one of those permanent gates. The tension gate is clearly not working.”  

My eyes widened as I snorted out, “Ya think?”

We were interrupted by the disembodied voice from downstairs again, “There’s dog shit on the rug too.” 

Dieter stuck his head out into the hallway, “Luca, I told you, don’t say that word. I’m coming...”

“False alarm…I think it’s vomit,” Luca yelled back, ignoring the minor admonishment for his language. 

I placed my hand over my mouth to stifle the laughter that was threatening to burst out. Dieter looked at me, shaking his head before turning to go downstairs, muttering something about “a fucking circus” as he went. I sat up in bed, pulling Moony into my lap for a snuggle just as I heard Dieter hiss out a loud “Fuck” followed by Luca saying matter-of-factly, “THAT pile was definitely dog shit.” 

I chuckled, hugging Moony closer, “Did you do that, mister? No? I’m sure it was one of the others…” 

Several minutes of silence passed before I heard quiet giggles from Dieter and Luca drifting up the staircase. I moved to the bathroom to get ready for the day, thinking there was no telling what they were up to. 

Luca had only been with us for sixteen months, but he was already a mini clone of Dieter. He unexpectedly came into our lives with a phone call from one of our close contacts at CDSS, Amber, asking us to take him on as an emergency foster. Luca’s mother had sadly passed after an intentional overdose and CDSS was still working to locate other family members to place him with. 

Luca had been attending an after-school mentoring program which was funded by our three-year-old foundation that provided support to families who had experienced trauma. Luca’s dad had passed a couple years prior in a car accident, which qualified him for assistance and trauma support. Dieter was very active in the mentoring program and was matched with Luca early on. As a result, they had built a pretty solid relationship before Luca came to stay with us. It was only meant to be temporary until his relatives could be found, but they never found anyone willing or able to take him in. 

Dieter and I had discussed adopting after being unsuccessful in having our own children. I had reservations, of course, but my worries soon disappeared the day we went to the CDSS offices to collect Luca from their custody. Up until that point, I had only seen Luca in passing while rushing between meetings - not really having a proper introduction. Dieter talked about him frequently, often voicing concern about the boy’s home life as they began to spend more time together. I knew Dieter had grown to care about Luca, so I wasn’t completely shocked when he busted into one of my Monday morning meetings asking to speak with me in private about the call he had received from Amber.

As I watched Luca through the glass window at the CDSS offices, seeing his dark curls and sad chocolate-colored eyes caused something stir inside of me that I wasn’t expecting. Dieter didn’t hesitate to enter the room, immediately scooping Luca up into a tight hug. I watched the two of them together as Amber filled me in on what happened and was quick to mention that Luca had been asking for Dieter specifically since he arrived. The six-year-old had clearly bonded with Dieter more than either of us had realized, which is why Amber called Dieter first thing that morning once they knew an emergency foster would be needed.

Dieter and I knew early on that we wanted to adopt Luca if they were unable to find any relatives that would take him. We did have some concerns if the adoption would be approved given our mental health history, even though we had both been doing well for years now. However, Amber assured us that proper paperwork from the doctor would make that a non-issue since it was an in-state adoption. After eleven months of jumping through all the hoops, Luca, now 8 years old, was legally ours. Once things were official, we headed to Sonoma to enjoy the remainder of the summer weather and for much needed family time after the stress of going through the adoption approval process. 

The rest of the family was due to arrive, planning to spend a few days with us to celebrate. They were all just as excited as we were about the adoption. They had quickly accepted Luca into the fold without hesitation from the start and were happy that he would be staying with us.      

When I emerged from the bathroom, I could hear additional voices added to the mix downstairs. It sounded like Lauren and Alex had arrived earlier than expected. As I moved to pull a tank top from the chest of drawers, I realized our journal was sitting open on the top of it. There was a new entry from last night scribbled in Dieter’s messy script. 

“Mi Vida (my life), I love going to bed every night with my arms wrapped around my guiding star and waking up every morning realizing my dreams are real. Everything is better with you. I’m still falling…  Something else to note, I seem to have an insatiable sexual appetite for you, but that’s an entry for another day. Don’t judge me...”

I snorted at Dieter’s ability to mix sappy romantic language with his dirty thoughts. It never failed to make me laugh. Once I managed to stifle my giggles and finish getting dressed, I quickly made my way down to greet my best friend, and now sister-in-law, with a hug. Luca and Alex were chatting away about a book while Dieter pulled supplies out of the refrigerator to make breakfast. It appeared that Dieter had raided the laundry room since I saw him last. He had added a t-shirt and a pair of my fuzzy socks to wear with his “house crocs”. I briefly wondered if this was what he and Luca had been giggling about earlier.

As we sat around the island chatting, Molly jumped the gate that was meant to block her from getting out of the “dog’s room” and came running through the kitchen. Lauren had to do a double take as the goat ran past, “Was that a fucking goat in pajamas?”

Dieter snickered behind us from the stove as Luca ran after her.

“Yes, that’s a fucking goat in pajamas. Dieter offered to take care of her because she was rejected by her mother. She’s going back to the farm up the road once she’s old enough. She's a menace.”

Lauren shook her head with a smirk on her face. She knew this had been a thing for a while. I rolled my eyes as I watched Dieter stuff an empty package into the already full trash can, “Luca, would you mind emptying the trash, please?”

Luca shooed Molly away from the pantry as he shut the accordion door and moved to bag up the trash. Dieter mumbled a quick, “Gracias, hombrecito,” (Thank you, little man) to Luca just as an empty cheese package fell from the bag. Moony snatched it and ran within seconds of it hitting the floor. Luca’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped as he watched Moony streak through the kitchen muttering “Mierda” (Shit) as he shuffled off in the direction the dog ran. Everyone’s eyes widened at his chosen language. I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out before I spoke up, “Luca, we told you to stop saying that word. That means the Spanish version too, bud.” 

He paused in the doorway and turned to look at me, “Lo siento, mamá (I’m sorry, mama) …but that means you shouldn’t say it either. It’s only fair.” He shrugged, then skipped off after Moony without another word. 

I turned to Dieter with an accusatory look, “I wonder where he learned that from...I swear he’s a miniature version of you already.”

Dieter’s eyes widened as he stuck a spoon in his mouth and shrugged, turning away to busy himself with whatever he was cooking. After pulling the spoon out of his mouth he muttered, “Maybe, but he gets that sassy mouth from you.” I narrowed my eyes at him as Lauren leaned toward me and quietly asked, “So he’s calling you mom now?”

I smiled, suddenly feeling that same rush of adrenaline I felt the first time Luca had said it a couple weeks prior, “Yeah, as soon as we got to the car after everything was finalized, he asked if he was allowed to call us mom and dad now. We all had to take a minute to cry and hug in the parking lot.” 

“He seems like he’s adjusted well. Has he said anything about his birth parents?” Lauren asked in a low voice.

Dieter set a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast down in front of her, “We encourage him to, but he hasn’t said much other than he’s happier with us. He makes small comments here and there but nothing major. It seems like he wasn’t in a good situation. We’ve thought about taking him in for a few sessions with Dr. Rosenberg when she feels like he’s ready.” 

Lauren gave Dieter a sad look and sighed as Alex came back from putting the goat up. He washed his hands, then sat down beside her, just in time to get his own plate of food. Alex looked up at me, “He’s a good kid...and he couldn’t have been put with anyone better equipped to help him through it than you guys. He’ll be fine. Hell, he’s already speaking Spanish better than Talia. He’s probably gonna be negotiating contracts before he graduates high school.”

I scoffed as everyone laughed, “Thanks for pointing that out…jerk.” 

Alex wasn’t wrong though; the kid was ridiculously smart and loved learning. He was constantly reading and watching educational shows on tv. He preferred that over cartoons. 

Dieter turned to set a plate down in front of me and another next to me for Luca just as he came stomping back through the kitchen with the cheese packaging in his hand. Dieter quickly pulled the trash bag out and tied it shut, telling Luca to wash his hands and eat. I watched as Luca stretched up on his tiptoes against the sink, attempting to get to the soap dispenser, but it was just out of his reach. Without a word, Dieter turned to grab the soap and squirted some into Luca’s chubby little hands and turned the water on for him. Luca smiled up at Dieter in thanks as he ruffled Luca's messy curls, kissing him on the top of the head before moving to take the trash out. It was little moments like this that made my stomach flutter and my heart happy. 

Luca sat next to me, chatting away about the dinosaur book he had just finished reading as Dieter came back inside and washed his hands before quickly making his own plate of food. Dieter stood next to the island with a full plate in hand as he ate since we were a seat short. He paused briefly, watching me smear fruit spread on my toast with a smirk on his face. When I was finished, his eyes caught mine just as I stuck the spoon in my mouth to suck the remnants of the sweet buttery treat off of it. I smirked around the piece of silverware and raised a suggestive eyebrow in his direction. Dieter’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watched me slowly remove the spoon from my mouth and smile at him. 

When Dieter and I finally broke eye contact, we realized Lauren and Alex were staring at us with an amused expression on their faces. Luca was still chatting away, completely oblivious as he poked at his eggs. Lauren shook her head at us, turning her attention back to Luca to ask him a silly question about something he had said. Lauren and Alex were used to our constant ridiculousness by now, so they were not shocked with our overt flirting.

Once Luca seemed to be satisfied with his fact sharing, Alex asked me how things were going with the vineyard since I had left my consulting job to oversee the operations here in addition to running the foundation. I paused mid bite to fill him in on the details, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by it all. 

“It’s going amazing actually…Dieter and I agreed to let the contracts with the wineries expire to get out of the alcohol business…aside from the one that’s been a partner from the beginning. We do have several new contracts lined up with some major food companies to make juice and other things. We’ve talked about growing a few different types of grapes to expand on that more since we’re putting a lot of the profits toward funding the foundation. Everything has started expanding so quickly, it’s crazy.” 

Dieter set his plate down as he moved to refill his glass, “Yeah, and we’ve thought about setting up private tours and doing events, horse riding and equine therapy, there are SOOO many possibilities. We have so much unused space, we should really take advantage of it. I have a million ideas that I’m trying to sort through. We have this amazing asset so we might as well use it for something good, ya know?”

I swallowed down the bite of bacon I had been working on, “And we’ve been so lucky to have Mateo and Jose too. We’ve managed to build a good team that we trust enough to run the place while we’re in LA. They’ve been completely onboard with everything and are excited about the plans moving forward.” 

Alex smiled, “Wow, that’s awesome. I never would have guessed you guys would take all this on, but it really is amazing what you’re doing. Truly. I’m happy this place is being used for something good.”

Dieter smiled back at his brother, “I appreciate that, hermano (brother) …and please know I still consider this place to be our family home. You're welcome here anytime, no matter if we’re here or not. I don’t want you to feel like it’s not yours anymore.”

Alex patted his brother on the shoulder, “I know that…you know…I think mom would be proud of everything you’re doing with your life and this place…and how everything has worked out for all of us.”

Dieter gave him a sad smile, “Yeah, I think so too.”

Lauren spoke up then, “What’s this you mentioned about opening a trauma facility or something?” 

I chuckled, “Oh yeah, that’s something we’re looking into. It’s more like a nonprofit community and resource center...with specialty services in family counseling and mental health treatment for the low-income population. It’s in the planning stages, but we really want something small scale that takes more of a holistic approach to treating the family unit. There isn’t really anything like that in LA. Dr. Rosenberg is on board with it so that’s been really helpful. If it happens and goes well, we plan to open additional locations.”

Lauren’s eyes widened, “Geez, you guys are going for it. Dieter, are you still planning to do movies then? I don’t know how you’ll have the time!”

Dieter shrugged, “It’s not really my top priority anymore. I’ve been taking on smaller things lately. I think I may focus more on the behind-the-scenes stuff…like writing or producing. I’ve also considered giving theater another go…but I think my heart is more into the work we’re doing with the foundation at this point. All that other stuff, I just look at it as a means to further what we’re doing with mental health awareness. It IS a good way to spread the word and stay relevant to get the message out though.” 

Lauren nodded, “Makes sense.” 

By this point, we were all finished with our breakfast. Luca announced that it was time to take the dogs and the goat out and excused himself. A few minutes later, Moony, Molly, and our three foster dogs clamored down the hallway toward the back door to go outside. They were following behind Luca, who was now wearing his own pair of crocs. Once the door closed behind them leaving us with silence, Dieter again muttered, “Fucking circus,” under his breath as he moved to put everyone’s dishes away. We all burst out laughing at his declaration considering he was the one who had created it. 

After Dieter finished putting the dishes away, he asked me if I knew where Daisy was since she hadn’t followed the crowd out. Daisy was our elderly foster dachshund that preferred peace and quiet. Dieter went off to find her, returning minutes later with Daisy in his arms to interrupt our conversation so he could ask me if I wanted to stroke his wiener. Lauren nearly choked on the water she was drinking as Alex snorted in laughter. I sighed, shaking my head at him, “What are you, like twelve?” 

Dieter chuckled as he leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek, “Sometimes…I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.” I continued shaking my head at him as I gave Daisy a quick scritch behind the ears. The four of us moved outdoors after that to keep an eye on Luca and the small herd of animals. A short time later, we were joined by Gabby, Shaun, and their three kids. They had stopped for pancakes on the drive up, so the kids were ready to run off their sugar high as soon as they got there - which worked out well for the young foster pups as they chased the kids around the yard. 

I sat in silence, snuggling Daisy in my arms as I listened to Gabby and Lauren catch up with each other next to me. I was intently watching Dieter and Luca playing with Moony while everyone else ran amuck around them. As Luca stood watching Moony tear off after the ball Dieter had just thrown across the yard, Dieter snuck up behind him. He grabbed Luca around the middle, lifting him off the ground, and buried his face into the boy's neck. Dieter began placing obnoxious kisses onto Luca’s cheek while he squealed in delight and struggled to get away from his papá.

Our lives had changed so much in the past five years, in very unexpected ways. Our work was now more fulfilling and having a major impact on others in ways that we never could have imagined. From all the darkness we had experienced, a guiding light emerged and it’s what led Luca to us.

Luca had been the last missing piece to our very complicated puzzle, healing the tiny bit of our hearts that we hadn’t even realized was festering underneath the happiness after things didn’t go as we hoped for our little family. Now I could only hope that we could do the same for Luca. 

The End (Sort of...)💜

Luca’s Adoption Story - a one shot coming soon!

✨EDIT: Luca's story is now available. Read Written in the Stars to see how he came to be in Dieter and Talia's care.

A/N: And there we have it, folks. We have finally reached the happily ever after for these two. How are we feeling about things? Is this where you saw the future going for them? Was any of it unexpected? It's not truly the end for these two. We still have the companion serious, The Light in the Darkness, to look forward to. Also, as you can see, I plan to do a one shot detailing the events of Luca's adoption. I had planned to go into the details in the Epilogue, but I felt it was messing with the flow. So, instead, I kept it short, and we will get the more detailed version at a later date.   👉 Just a reminder...Next week the first chapter of Closed Position is dropping. Dancing Dieter is finally here, y'all! 🕺 I posted a Meet the Characters intro bit this morning that you might want to check out. 😉 Thank you all for sticking with me on this crazy ride and for all the support. I've enjoyed getting to know you all through your comments and reblogs. I've loved hearing your thoughts and personal stories. They kept me going when I hit the ole writing rut. And that's it. That's all I have. 💜Mysty

Tag List: @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @for-a-longlongtime @hisandsnakes @chaoticfestninja @survivingandenduring @partyofone3413 @wannab-urs @cakipy-blog @titlee78 @poodlebae @guelyury @missladym1981 @maried01 @alokaerza @samiamproductions @misstokyo7love @themonadiaries-blog @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @avastrasposts @weho2kcmo @harriedandharassed @tkchaos @girlofchaos @yghuibt @musings-of-a-rose @annieispunk @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @copperhalfcent @bunniboo0015 @indiegirlunited @babycatkitty @pedrostories

*If your blog name is marked out, it would not let me tag you. You will need to change your visibility settings for that to work.

[pyrondeeznutz]

Ticci Toby Headcanons

PT.01

Toby Rogers past, upbringing, pre-proxy headcanons. See proxy era headcanons here ⬇️

CW: Slight mentions of animal abuse, domestic violence, psychosis, bullying, car crash, gore

<NOTE> Im a psychology nerd so I tried to make it as realistic as possible. This is my first time doing anything like this but I have a lot of thoughts about Tobys character. Its not proofread so ignore any typos or grammatical errors. Also… its very long… I have… so many thoughts…

BIOGRAPHY .

PATIENT NAME: Tobias (Toby) Erin Rogers

BIRTHDATE: April 28th, 1994

AGE: Currently 19 years old

HC/EC: Brown hair, brown eyes

ETHNICITY: White American

BIRTHPLACE: Denver, Colorado

FAMILY: Connie Rogers (mother), Dan Rogers (Father), Lyra Rogers (sister)

DIAGNOSIS: Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis (CIPA), Tourettes Syndrome, Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Bipolar Disorder (Type 1, psychotic)

THE GURNEY .

Toby was in and out of hospitals from a very young age due to his wide range of physical and mental health concerns

His earliest memory was when, at age 4, he hit his head after falling onto cement and didn’t cry, scream, or even really acknowledge that he was hurt

After seeing the bloody mess her young child was in, Connie ran Toby to the hospital where tests were ran to determine what caused his lack of pain response

Finally at age 8, Toby was diagnosed with CIPA. This condition not only prevented his brain from generating a pain response but also responses to extreme temperatures (frostbite, heat burn, etc)

Due to these dangerous health issues, and his neurotic mother, Toby was put in homeschooling from a very early age. Connie was too protective of her son to allow him to go out on his own at his age

His earliest memories revolved around roaming hospital halls, his parents fighting over medical bills, being talked to by social workers and doctors, having tests done, minor surgeries, etc.

DEAR OLD DAD .

Dan Rogers was a difficult man. He never admitted he was wrong, he spent his evenings drinking on the couch, and always had something to complain about. The best words to describe this man was angry, bitter, and reckless

He wasn’t a father by any means. To Toby, the man was more of a nuisance than anything. An alcoholic manchild who stood in his way

The boy never got along with Dan. His father would see him as a burden, bringer of unnecessary medical costs. He severely emotionally and physically neglected his children from their birth. Dan never wanted to be a father.

Due to the costs of Tobys medical problems, Dan would continuously attempt to “prove he was faking” his CIPA, and yell at the boy for his strange twitches due to Tourettes. On one occasion, Dan put his sons hand in a pot of boiling water to try and elicit a pain response that never came.

As Toby got older and more independent from his mother, he would often mouth off to his father, talk back, or straight up ignore him. There was never a moment of peace between those two

Being the money maker in the house, Dan was usually very overworked and stressed. He turned to alcohol to relieve this, and his bad temper got worse when he drank. Often to the point his outbursts would lead to physical violence against his family

It was like walking in a minefield for Toby and his family. And since the supposed “man of the house” was a drunken mean old man, Toby took it upon himself to protect his family from his fathers wrath.

He would purposely act up to direct Dans fist towards him. The boy couldn’t feel it anyways, and being hit, pushed, grabbed, was better than having his sister or mother be hit or yelled at.

The young boy spent his childhood in a rage, he was powerless against his father.

MOTHER DEAREST .

Unlike her husband, Connie was a quiet woman who cared deeply for her children

She was well-mannered, motherly, and kept to herself. And while she was a good woman, she had her fair share of flaws

You would catch her dead before you ever caught her losing control over her emotions. Connie grew up quick and that stuck with her. From a young age she took care of her manchild of a husband

She couldn’t afford to lose herself to silly things like emotions. She had a family to care for, a house to clean, meals to cook. Her priorities lied on appearance over her health

This was one of the many reasons she couldn’t leave her husband despite the years of abuse

Despite all the violence, berating, assault. This life was her own and it was just another thing she had to live with

Toby loved his mother, he really did. He knew she did the best given the circumstances. Connie kept her children fed, clothed and housed. Thats all he could really ask for

But he despised from the depths of his soul how she could just sit by and let the abuse happen. How she never left Dan. How she never cared enough to leave despite not knowing what lied in store for them beyond that house

To her, Dan was a safety net. He provided money, insurance, he paid the bills, put food on the table. Connie quit her job in order to homeschool her son. There was no choice

To Toby, his mother was a coward who never stuck up for herself. And god forbid he ever turn into that

So Toby fought the battles his mother couldn’t. He said the words his mother didn’t dare to speak. He took the beatings and his mother did nothing but ask her husband to stop

SOUL SISTER .

In the chaos of that household, Lyra was something of fresh air for Toby

While the two did fight as any siblings do, they had a mutual care and understanding for each other

Lyra would keep a makeshift first aid kit under her bed for whenever Toby got into minor accidents or if their father went too far some nights

Like her little brother, Lyra had a lot of anger in her. She would always try to stop Dan from going too far and she was good at talking Toby and their father down from ripping each others throats out

She would channel this anger and frustration into sports like boxing, soccer, rugby. It was easier to express her feelings through physical means than ever talking about it. The girl was a perfect mix of her parents

When he was younger, Toby had a very bad and hostile relationship with Lyra. He was young and didn’t have any clue how to handle his emotions and would often threaten or physically hurt his sister

But as he grew up, and they bonded over the related abuse, and they would be there for each other, Toby developed tender care for his older sister. If she got a boyfriend, he would be ready to attack at any sign of disrespect. If she brought over friends, he would stay in his room not to embarrass her.

Just as he was with his mother, he was very protective over Lyra. She did so much for him, and he wanted to keep her safe. It was a tangled, messy relationship but they made it work despite her attitude and his anger

CONDUCT .

Toby grew up completely isolated from other kids, families, etc. The most socialization he got was going to family events or being dragged to the grocery store with his mother.

All he knew growing up was violence. And so when he was around other people, he would project everything he learnt from his father onto other kids

From a very early age he was made to feel small and insignificant in his own home by the people that were supposed to take care of him. And so whenever something challenged him out of the house, he would do whatever he needed to do to put them below him

Sometimes Toby would project this violence onto small animals, occasionally moving onto bigger animals such as cats. The feeling of killing something smaller than himself with his own hands gave him a sense of power and control he never had

Due to his untreated ADHD, the boy would often be loud, hyperactive and intrusive. He would have temper tantrums and outbursts as well, and his mother never knew how to handle it

He was a problem child from birth. Not only causing problems for himself, but for everyone around him

Toby would talk back, curse, say strange and vulgar things, refuse to apologize or admit he was wrong, and would run away from home occasionally.

But despite these behavioural issues, Toby always refused to touch alcohol. Despite all the anger, dread and frustration he felt he swore he’d never become the kind of man his father was

BULLY .

Around 12 years old, Toby’s parents decided it would be best for him to get properly socialized and placed him in a public school

He was now old enough to recognize that bleeding is bad and how to check for injuries despite his CIPA, which allowed Connie to calm down tremendously when it came to her anxiety surrounding her boys health and safety

Despite his mothers insistence that he would love public school, he’d make so many friends there, and that everything would be fine, Toby knew damn well he wouldn’t do well there. He was already bullied by his own father, imagine how other kids would react. He’s seen the movies.

And of course Toby was right. Due to his Tourettes, his tics would often confuse, scare and gross other kids out. They would either straight up treat him like a diseases rat or ruthlessly bully him

The boy was called every name in the book, from “twitchy freak” to “ticci Toby”

Alongside the ostracism and harassment from his peers, his tics and behavioural issues would cause him issues with his teachers. They would often scold him for being a disturbance in class

Making and keeping friends was near impossible for the boy. Talking to a “creepy loser” like him was practically social suicide. He was weird, strange, and given his history of fighting the other kids he was probably dangerous too. No kid wanted to be around that.

On occasion, the other boys would get physical with him and he would always hit back, leading him to get in more trouble with the school staff

Toby would be beat down at school and go home to have it done to him all again by his father

Eventually the school year came to an end and Toby was put back in homeschooling

Even though the torment in middle school came to an end, that didn’t mean the bullying stopped. He was now a known freak and the perfect target for kids who were a bit too much like him. They would harass him online until they got bored, and god forbid he saw any of them in public

It made the angry, powerless boy feel even worse in his own world. There wasn’t a night that went by where he didn’t think of going off and getting his revenge. Make them pay for ever fucking with him.

THE CRASH .

When Toby turned 17, he had finally got himself medicated for his recently diagnosed Bipolar Disorder which caused manic / depressive episodes

He was put on antipsychotics and stimulant medication for his ADHD

While he was being treated, his sister got a job and so did his mother. Outside of all the familiar instability and violence his father caused, life was good

Toby was going to be 18 soon and his sister promised that when he became a legal adult, she would take him to move out with her

He didn’t have any friends, he didn’t really have any plans for his life, but he had a life ahead of him regardless and that was enough

The boy was working through pain too great to imagine, he was carrying 17 years of fear and dread, he was so young holding on to so much

But he had a way out. He was going to get a job and move out with his dear older sister and maybe even go to college. He was going to overcome this

That was his views at least up until the crash

Lyra was driving Toby back home from a doctors appointment when it happened

His tics were acting up, it was rather distracting

He was so caught up in his own little world and trying to get through the frustrating twitches that he didn’t even have a second to process what happened

The next thing Toby knew, the car was swerving right into a lamppost and the air bags were deployed

And the next thing Toby saw was his sisters mangled, bloody body. The force of the steering wheel crushing her bones and shards of glass piercing her skin. The physical trauma near shattered her ribs

And the next thing Toby heard was the pained groans and wheezing from his dying sister

Thats the last thing he remembered before he woke up in a hospital bed with his broken arm being patched up. The doctors wouldn’t even let him see his sister who was under surgery in the emergency room

He didn’t get to be there by her side when she died

He didn’t get a goodbye

And while he was surrounded by family, his aunt Lori was even there to support his mother, Tobys father was nowhere to be seen

Dan was too drunk to drive, and too lazy to call a cab. He didn’t care about Toby and he didn’t care that his daughter just died. One less burden.

In one afternoon Tobys entire life slipped through the cracks of his hands

HIM .

The grief was sickening. It was heavier than the weight of the world. The silence that flooded his once loud house from his sister blaring her Beatles albums was deafening

These were the kinds of things that only happened in movies. People didn’t really lose their family members, and these things didn’t happen to people like him

It wasn’t fair

The one good thing in his miserable life, the moment things were finally getting better. There was no hope anymore, Toby was hopeless

He thought of ending his life every night as he stared at the ceiling, not getting a wink of sleep. But he couldn’t do that to his mom. She never showed it, but it showed clearly from the weight in her steps, the tired look in her eyes. He knew she was carrying a burden too great to bear

He couldn’t take away both of her children

So he would lie there night after night hoping to wake up from the gutwrenching dream just to hear her laugh, sing, blast her shitty music. He never really liked The Beatles, but she did. But she did.

It was all too much for him. From the moment Toby stepped out of the hospital he hadn’t felt real. The boy was living two steps away from reality like there was a sheet of plastic in between him and the world

Days would go by where he would forget to take his medication, or where he would simply just sleep the entire day away

On the days he was awake, Toby would feel like he was going insane. He wouldn’t feel real, he would see things out of the corner of his eye

Sometimes he’d swear he saw something outside his window at night

A strange creature standing under the streetlights

And it only got worse from here. Toby would almost always refuse to leave the house, he stopped sleeping, he felt like something was watching him

The boy would spend hours staring outside his bedroom window. The forest in his backyard had eyes and they were watching him

A wave of sickness overtook Toby. He would wake up with bloody noses sometime and no medicine would get rid of his strange cough. Sometimes he would sleepwalk and end up waking up on the edge of the forest behind his house, cold and alone in the dark of the night

It all added up. It was too much. The anger, the fear, the paranoia. The little voice in the back of his head telling him to just do it. Get revenge. Make him pay.

ABLAZE .

The years and years of abuse. Everything his father had done. He wasn’t there. He was never there.

Why should a man like that deserve to live? 17 fucking years of making Toby feel small and insignificant

Not today. And not anymore. The world was in the boys hands now, and so was a knife. And that night was the night Toby Rogers killed his own father.

No words could describe the feeling of adrenaline and rage that overtook the boy that night. There was no other option, this was the way it was always going to happen

Everything Toby has ever been through has led up to this. It was his own divine prophecy

And God showed no mercy that night

23 stab wounds drilled into his fathers chest, his face bloody, beaten and unrecognizable. Toby smashed his tiny bruised fists ruthlessly into his fathers now deceased body.

The only thing that stopped him was the scream of his mother. It was something primal, something deep from the pain in her gut.

Toby ran into the garage and grabbed two axes that belonged to his father, one old one new. Alongside that he grabbed gasoline and matches. He was going to do what he knew best. He was going to destroy everything.

And so the boy ran down the street of his neighborhood pouring the gasoline along his way and dousing the rest over the trees as he stood at the edge of the forest

Striking a match, the dry grass and trees caught on fire and immediately exploded into flames. The heat and blaze engulfed the boy and soon it began catching onto the rest of the forest

This was the end, he thought. Strangely enough, even though his heart was beating in his throat and his body was shaking, he felt calm. He had no regrets and he was fine with this being his ending.

His mind went blank, everything felt like a static screen, he could feel himself getting dizzy and there was a loud ringing in his ears

The last thing he saw was a tall, faceless creature in the midst of the smoke and fire as he collapsed to the ground.

And that was the death of Tobias Erin Rogers.

[kadextra]

LETS GO rambling and analysis time now that I finished part one

MAJOR MAJOR spoilers under the cut

KAI

NOOOOO how is he gonna get out??? I will say him as the first to use rising dragon felt extremely deserved, I clapped and cheered during that fight scene. but now he’s stuck in the netherworld with the remaining forbidden five and that’s scary.

I teared up seeing Nya activate her rising dragon style in her grief for him. in the next part she’s gonna find out Jay forgot who she is too… so much heartache for Nya 😞

Really enjoyed Bonzle in these episodes as well, learning about her origin of being a spell, her journey of discovering herself as a person and finding a found family :’) at least she’s with Kai now….

and I’ve felt terrible for Lloyd every episode. him getting slammed by those visions constantly, unexpectedly, even in the middle of a fight which sends him spiraling, that’s so rough :((

It’s obvious they’re a representation of panic attacks/he has developed a canon panic disorder- like Lloyd literally says it at one point. they happen suddenly, give anxious fear about present and future events, he gets scared about having another one so he tries to cope by not sleeping (unhealthy coping method) and is taught later on to try accepting the feelings and ride it out which is a way irl therapists teach. good to see some more exploration of mental health in this show!! I’m glad the other characters are taking notice and trying to help too in the ways they can

…speaking of mental health, Arin has been interesting to watch. he’s reading to me more as an autistic-coded character lately (like that line about not understanding social cues???) and we’ve been seeing lots more negative self-esteem issues and insecurity from him in these episodes. him making mistakes during the training sessions, getting scolded, then closing himself off was hard to watch

How Sora decided to hide the truth about Arin’s “object spinjitzu” that saved the day at the very end so he would feel proud of himself for achieving something hurt my heart. she is such a sweet friend who wants her bestie to be happy and feel proud of himself but like- keeping secrets is gonna have consequences down the line. especially when we all know this is a touchy subject for Arin right now. it’s just painful to see how deeply Arin’s self-worth is tied to what he’s capable of doing, what he can and cannot do for the ninja team. he can’t use elemental power he can’t do spinjitzu properly, he’s already insecure so how would he feel to find out ppl are lying to his face so he can feel happier? he’s a string that’s gonna snap one day and judging from that beatdown moment with Lord Ras it’s not going to be pretty. I sense some sort of villain arc approaching for our son

(someone send these people to therapy they’re so traumatized)

In another news: Cole and Geo gay love! homosexuals! maybe a QPR! I don’t care whatever it is, it’s clear they love each other

And it certainly wouldn’t be a ninjago season without the destiny’s bounty crashing and burning <333 was also nice seeing Jay for 10 seconds again <3333

Now my current question is what’s the source dragon tournament thing Lord Ras’ master is talking about??? tournament?? 👀 it’s basically implied that master is a source dragon or a being that rivals their power

can’t wait for the next part to release agugugsjkhkdbqjdpgsiduggjneosgktnalfhdiqkwkfjfialwkg

[cherryrainn]

can i request gn!reader comforting a mentally ill once-ler/greed-ler (given once-ler’s emotionally abusive childhood) and the stresses of biggering? thank u sm <3

━━ ✧ 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; greedler + reader

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; i love this so much omg thankyouthankyou i love this AHGHGH I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; mental health struggles, pressure to succeed, manipulation, emotional exhaustion

onceler was hunched over his desk, surrounded by sketches and plans for his latest business venture. the weight of his past and the pressures of biggering were taking a toll on his mental health, evident in the weariness etched across his face.

sensing his struggle, you approached him with a gentle demeanor. "hey," you said softly, "mind if i sit down?"

onceler glanced up, his eyes reflecting a mix of anxiety and exhaustion. "sure, i guess," he replied, his guard visibly lowered.

taking a seat on his desk, you noticed the turmoil in his eyes. "you've been pushing yourself so hard," you said softly, your tone filled with empathy. "it's okay to take a break, you know?"

his gaze softened at your words. "i don't know how to take a break," he sighed, glancing away from you. "i feel like if i stop moving for even a second, everything’s gonna fall apart."

your expression softened with concern. "you don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you know? you're just one person. it's okay to ask for help, and it's okay to take care of yourself too."

he looked down for a moment before speaking again, his voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and sadness. "you don't understand. it's not just about success. it's about making her proud."

"her?" you inquired gently.

"yeah, my mom," he admitted, a distant look in his eyes. "she was never proud of me before. now, with the business and everything, she finally is. i need it to stay that way."

your heart sank at his words, poor thing just wanted to make his mama proud.

gathering your courage, you looked him in the eyes, determined to offer some clarity amidst his trouble. "the thing is," you began gently, "sometimes people have their own agendas. your mom... she might be using you, manipulating your need for approval to serve her-"

his eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of anger and confusion flashing across his face, he cut you off. "you don't understand," he retorted defensively, rising from his seat. "she's my mom. she wouldn't do that."

but as he stood there, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him, you saw the exhaustion in his eyes. "i know it's hard to see," you continued softly, trying to break through his defenses. "but sometimes, the people we trust the most can hurt us in ways we don't expect"

feeling overwhelmed, onceler walked over to his balcony, looking down as if searching for answers amidst the chaos of his thoughts. the scape below seemed distant, a reflection of the disconnect he felt from his own life and choices.

looking over the edge, he sighed to himself, his inner torment slowly draining away for a moment as he stared out at the vast expanse. but after a few seconds of quiet contemplation, another troubling thought dawned on him.

everything he'd hurt to get this far… the way he'd been blind to his own shortcomings, focusing only on his desire for recognition and success. suddenly, he felt a swell of regret and shame, a burning inside of him that made his stomach tighten.

you approached cautiously, giving him space but wanting to be there for him. "look," you began, keeping your tone straightforward, "i get it. family stuff is complicated. but you've got to think about what's best for you too."

his gaze settled on the horizon as he tried to absorb your words. "i don't know." he mumbled.

you leaned in, your concern evident. "you can't keep running on empty," you said firmly. "you're human, not a machine. it's okay to need a breather."

he looked at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and weariness. "i don't know," he admitted again, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't even know where to start."

you offered a small, understanding smile. "that's okay. we can figure it out together. it doesn't have to be all or nothing."

as he processed your words, you could see a flicker of realization in his eyes. the weight of his responsibilities and expectations began to ease, if only for a moment.

feeling the heaviness in the air, you decided to give him some space. "i'll be here whenever you're ready to talk or figure things out," you said, standing up and heading towards the door.

but as you reached for the doorknob, you felt a gentle touch on your arm. turning back, you saw him looking at you with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. without a word, he leaned on you.

"i... i don't know if i can do this alone."

you nodded, your heart going out to him. "you don't have to. i'm here for you, okay?"

"okay. thanks.. y/n." he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

"yeah."

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 8: Compromise

Summary: Andra wants answers, and Ghost has to choose

Word Count: 6.5k

If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!

Content: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence

The clouds on the way home were overcast across the afternoon sky. Johnny left Andra with several things to think over, bringing her back to a familiar train of thought from five years ago.

He gave her the same look that stirred shame in her belly. She didn’t like being on a different level of rationality – or lack thereof – with the people once close to her.

It was declared by the officer that showed up there was no indication of foul play. The possibility of an incompetent and inconvenienced officer being sent to her call was in the forefront of her mind, and also the possibility of any traces of someone’s presence could have been washed away from the thunderstorm by the time they came out to investigate. The whole process of filing the report gave her no peace of mind, but she took the advice of setting up surveillance seriously.

A precautionary that she should have done ages ago.

The quiet, quaint life out on the farm had soothed her troubled worries all of these years, making her forget for a moment what it was like to live looking over her shoulder every moment. She wasn’t naïve, no, she knew how to take care of herself when the seldom case of harassment arose. Andra should have never gotten so comfortable the way she did.

Her foot pressed down heavily on the brake pedal as she waited at a stop light to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. She was just a few more turns from home, she reminded herself. The caffeine she had ingested all throughout the morning was threatening a big crash.

Andra drove slowly down Middleton Lane as she spotted the first right turn to the private dirt road of Ghost’s property. Then her truck came to a full stop. You know what-

Her hand turned the wheel right as her tires skid around the corner.

Andra didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would exactly say to him, but she needed to know what was going through his head.

Andra parked behind his truck and turned the key out of the ignition. She paused for a few seconds to take a breath and gather at least the first sentence that would come out of her mouth.

Her phone vibrated.

I’m in the garage.

Of course Ghost knew Andra had arrived, another sign that she definitely needed to do the same thing to her property. Cameras and motion sensors.

She shut the door behind her as she made her way to the garage off to the right of his house. One of the metal double doors was left cracked open, and she could hear the metal clink of a tool being put down.

The garage was Ghost’s own personal auto shop, with an incomplete classic-looking car taking up majority of the left. The wall was lined with tool boxes, yard tools, and almost a pallet’s worth of army green ammo cans. To the right, a rudimentary gym setup took up another portion of space, with a bench press, a high pull-up bar, seemingly crafted and welded together amateurly, and a rack of assorting dumbbells and plates to complete it all.

Ghost was hunched over the open hood of the car, one hand on the lip of the hood as he kept his attention on whatever he had been working on before Andra’s unannounced arrival.

“Is this your way of letting me know that you’re pushing me away again?” Andra sharply said to the backside of Ghost.

Ghost tossed a tool onto the toolbox on his left side and retrieved a rag, wiping grease from his stained hands. His muscles tensed in his back as he turned to Andra’s direction. “Today has been a really tense day. I wanted to give you some space to come down from last night.”

Andra clenched her jaw. “I don’t need space, I need answers. I feel like I’ve been kept in the dark about something I have no control over.”

“That’s because you don’t.”

She could feel her blood simmering already. Not how she wanted this to go. “I don’t because you never gave me the choice to take control.” Andra couldn’t recognize the person she was talking to. His stare was cold and dark. If his goal was to anger her into cutting her losses with him, it wasn’t going to work. “You didn’t tell me anything because we lost touch the first time, fine, I get it. But you went ahead and told Johnny? That’s what I can’t get passed.”

Ghost trudged out of the garage with Andra following behind him. “He and I had an eye on things. We had it under our thumbs.”

Andra tossed her hands up. “Had what exactly?” Her voice echoed all around them. “What the hell is going on with you?”

He turned back to her, stopping her in her tracks before bumping right into him. Ghost peered down to her, his eyes burning the same heat. “What do you want from me? You want me to take back what I did?”

Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. “No, I just want you to stop being such a hard ass and talk to me.” Her carotid artery strained against the muscles in her neck. “Tell me what you think is going on and we’ll deal with it together.”

He flinched as if her hand flew across his face.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, for an excuse to leave.” Andra’s chest rose and fell with a heavy rhythm. “You act as if one morning I’ll wake up and you won’t be here, and you’ll just be a memory for me.”

His eyes squeezed shut as his own breath left him.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Leaving without another word, taking your shadows with you.” There was a shiver in her voice.

“I have.” Ghost finally answered. “I could leave in a moment’s notice. I’ve done it before.”

Andra didn’t doubt him. She had done it herself, she knew how easy it was to pack a couple of bags and leave. “What’s stopping you this time?”

Ghost opened his eyes to meet hers.

She scoffed and turned away from his silent response. The wind picked up and wisps of her hair flew around her face. She had to squint her eyes at the unbearable overcast sunlight. “I was able to forgive you for cutting me off the first time. I shook it off because there was no expectation for you to keep in contact after fixing my truck. Then you came back, and I thought you wanted me in your life, and maybe we even had something. Cool. Great, even.

“But when you brought up the transpiring events, the person driving up our street and telling me there have been people on my property?” She shook her head. “You think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not. I won’t let you. Either you let me know what’s going on, or you’ve lost my trust.”

His eyes were unreadable when she saw him once more.

Andra reached into her pocket and flipped her keys into her palm, the key ring sitting on her index finger as she clenched them tight. “I’ll see you around, Ghost. If you figure out what you want to do, you know where to find me.”

The screen door smacked the side of the house harder than it should. Andra wasn’t paying attention. Her face still felt hot with anger. Sammy darted outside for her chance to do what she does, leaving her alone in the house.

The air felt thick, charged with energy that wasn’t there when she woke up the morning before. Or maybe it was her mind messing with her. Either way, her house felt compromised.

The tears collected in her eyes out of nowhere, and she quickly wiped them away. This is stupid. She felt ridiculous for letting it get to her. For letting a shattered window re-surface the fear that drove her away to another country.

This was all going to blow over. The tracks in the woods were a random coincidence, the car meant nothing. And the rock flying into her window was just a freakish feat of nature. She’s witnessed some heavy storms in the countryside in her years of living here. It wouldn’t be the first time something has sustained damage on her property, and it was bound to happen again.

“Be kind to yourself.” Andra whispered to herself as she kicked her shoes off, remembering what she was taught in therapy and from self-help reading. However, being kind to herself was proving difficult with the lingering anger from talking to Ghost.

The nerve of him.

But also, the nerve of her. She felt the weight of her corrosive past. An affliction, threatening to dismantle the life she had built. It had to be irrational, she was no one. She wasn’t worth being tracked down, right? That’s the rhetoric she kept force feeding herself. They had succeeded in getting rid of her, she made sure of it. At this point, if anyone wanted to pursue in finishing the job, she would end up burning a hole in their dirty wallets.

And if Ghost was going to play the need-to-know card, two can play that game.

She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the black trash bag covering her window. It crinkled and swayed inward and outward with the passing wind. The ever-growing chasm in her chest was making itself comfortable, and she couldn’t stand it.

-----

 Ghost knew Johnny would stop calling after the second time he reached his voicemail. The third call in a row told him that he better answer the phone. His heavy hand reached out to the nightstand for his phone, swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed it against his ear, eyes closed. “Yes, sir.”

“You broken, Simon?”

Price’s gravelly voice came through the speaker on his phone, and it was like a splash of cold water on him. It was a question he was familiar with Price asking, except he’s no longer checking for missing limbs or hemorrhaging blood loss. Ghost sat up on the edge of his mattress and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “M’solid.”

“When’s the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?” Price asked.

Ghost took a quick glance at the time on his phone before returning the receiver to his ear. “I was getting’ rest before you woke me up.” He was only asleep for two hours, and his pounding head reminded him that it had been a restless 72 hours.

Price doesn’t reach out very often. The captain – along with the other lads – will dedicate an amount of time out of the year to catch up with the former task force in person. It was an annual event of spending the holidays doing anything but celebrating Christmas and New Years. When he hears from Price before November, it’s because he’s been tipped off on Ghost’s concerning behavior.

“Soap tells me you’re acting barmy, you think you’re being followed, son?”

There it was.

Ghost didn’t respond for a few beats, his feet felt like lead against the cold wooden floor. “A couple of events transpired, would put you on edge, too.”

He could hear a deep sigh come from the other end of the line, and it had Ghost clench his jaw. “Get yourself to an appointment or a meeting, or I’ll bring the meeting to you.”

Price’s demand sent a wave of guilt and shame through Ghost. The memories of being pulled up off the living room floor and thrown into his tub flashed behind his heavy eyelids. Price, Johnny and Gaz showed up. Ghost reeked of alcohol and piss. They had him hauling bags of sand back and forth from his backyard to the range on his property for several hours, making him sweat and puke the remains of alcohol in his system.

“I’m still sober.” Ghost gritted his teeth. He made Ghost sound like an addict.

Price clipped his words, “See your doctor, and get out of bed for a sweat.”

Ghost opened his eyes to the void of his darkened room and sighed. “I’ll set up an appointment today.”

“Good lad.” Beep-beep-beep went the line as Price disconnected the call.

Sleep had eluded Ghost once more. He sat there at the edge of his bed and rolled his neck, failing to relax the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. His eyes burned, and his headache pressed down on every surface of his skull. He felt an irritation for Price waking him up, but rationality told him it wasn’t his fault.

Since sleep was out of the question, Ghost stood up and peered out the bedroom window. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another couple of hours, but he insisted to listen to Price’s advice. Get a workout in, then when the office opened, call doc to get that appointment.

His feet were heavy as he shuffled to the bathroom. Ghost always looked down to the basin of the sink before turning on the lights, avoiding the reflection staring back at him. He watched as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. Scars littered his knuckles, the skin over bone splitting open too many times for him to count.

It was when he was sick of looking at the reminders of his violence when he slipped and the person he hated stared back with cold, dead eyes.

You’ve tried killing me so many times, but fail every single time. You need me. You need the mask. You need it to hide so there’s never a chance to hurt again. You don’t deserve her. You try and pretend to be someone worthy of a teaspoon of affection, but you’re not what she needs. You’re filthy. You’re-

The glass shattered against his fist as he struck as quick as an asp. He hissed between clenched teeth, cursing as the reached for a towel and covered his bleeding knuckles.

If one thing was for certain, his reflection was right.

He didn’t deserve her.

-----

Andra flipped closed the back end of the book and placed it on her blanket covered lap to rub her tired eyes. Every night she would read The Operators when it was evident she wouldn’t be getting peaceful rest, or when something had her jolting awake. She had no clue how many hours she had slept in the past couple of days; definitely not enough to keep her from loading up on caffeine and making her debate breaking her years of being nicotine-free.

She could hear the roosting of her birds out in the coop. Andra leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. There wouldn’t be time to try and fall asleep. Her day had to start.

After the morning chores, Andra headed inside for another cup of coffee. She stared out of her newly replaced window, out into the distance. It was hard not to; it was as if something – or someone – was going to come storming out from the brush and trees. All remained quiescent in those groves, as logic would have it.

The rattling sound of her plastic phone case vibrating against the countertop broke her focus. She swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “What’s up, Johnny?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

His voice was hushed and the words were muddled like he had the phone pressed against his mouth, and she could hear the workings of the auto shop in the background.

“I need you to go check on Ghost for me, he called out of work this morning.”

Andra felt her chest and throat tighten all at the same time. Johnny wasn’t aware of the fallout between her and Ghost from the sound of it. Or if he did, he must be extremely concerned for Ghost’s silence. I figured he would be used to it by now… she thought bitterly. “You need me to go immediately?”

“Take yer time, a mate of ours reached him this mornin’. Just pop over there when you get a chance. Gotta go, text me.”

The line went dead before Andra could say bye. She released a heavy sigh after taking her first sip, her fingers tapped against the countertop as apprehension churned in her gut.

Maybe Ghost took their last conversation as motivation for him to actually leave.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her thumb and index finger, pushing her fingers together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want their relationship – friendship – whatever they had, to end on that note. Fuck, I messed up.

She took a deep breath to regain composure. You don’t know if he’s gone. Andra decided she would go by after her run to the post office to pick up her package. With a quick rinse of her empty coffee mug, she headed to the front door to collect her keys and purse.

The sound of gravel crunching and a vehicle engine made her pause in her tracks. Her heart raced, she could feel her adrenaline dump. Her shaky hand moved aside the curtain to look out the window beside the door, and the sight of Ghost’s truck had her releasing a heavy breath.

It took everything in her not to throw the door open and run to him. She took another grounding breath and unlocked the door, opening it to Ghost preparing to knock.

Andra swore her heart was going to burst. The look in his eyes mirrored the same surprise she displayed. The discernible presence of a bandage wrapped around Ghost’s hand caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

He noticed where her eyes fell to, and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “You got a minute to speak?”

His voice sounded like sandpaper. He looked just as sleep deprived as she felt. Andra couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. She closed the door behind her and opted to sit on the wooden bench, leaving a space for Ghost to sit beside her. He never did, instead he decided to lean against the railing, his ankle crossed over the other.

Seconds passed before anything was said. “I’m not good with words, you’ll have to bear with me.”

Andra folded her legs beneath her and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained on him as she waited to hear him out.

His head tilted down. “I gave a lot of thought to what you said, about losing your trust.” He rolled his neck, rolling the nerves and giving him a chance to think. “And I realized, taking a bullet is far less painful than that.”

Andra could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat underneath the fabric of his mask as he tilted his head back with closed eyes. She felt her throat tightening, and had to swallow to relieve the ache.

“So, I’ve come to terms with if I want to mend what I had with you, I’m going to have to find a way to tell you what you need to know.” Ghost’s eyes found hers, searching for a response.

She gave him a subtle nod, letting the words sink in. “How are you going to do that?”

Ghost uncrossed his ankles and took the two steps to sit beside her. It was a struggling few seconds for him to begin speaking. “Did you ever pick that book back up?”

Andra was confused by the approach he was taking, but went with it. “Yeah, I finished it actually.”

"Did the author talk about some of his assignments?" Ghost asked patiently.

She recalled what the author was able to talk about and reveal. "Not specifics, but he went in detail with Selection, and then the training thereafter and some events that happened in the 80s in Northern Ireland."

He nodded as he listened. "What did the training entail?"

"Physical training, a lot of sleep deprivation, weapons and vehicle tactics, photography, interrogation..." Andra's words drifted as she continued her recollection. She wouldn't say this out loud, but it was a dry read.

Ghost cut in at the mention of the last topic. "Interrogation, okay." His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, and his hands flexed over and over. "I've been on both ends of being interrogated. Not just in training, but out on the field." His red-rimmed eyes aged several decades, and her chest grew heavy. "And there were times the bars and stars – officers that outranked me and my team – had ordered us to let go of the person we had just roughed up.

"They were dangerous people, Andra, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Andra was piecing together why Ghost had given her that book to read. It was more than just what was on the surface. The selection process, the training, the assignments, the images in the book illustrating the teams with black lines redacting their eyes. It occurred to her then when she was reading it all, Ghost was another one of the SAS operatives that had an alias, he had paperwork with his name on it that contained redacted information on what he and his team had accomplished, but now discussing it all solidified it for her.

Not only him, but Johnny as well, and Johnny had brought up a few other names. People that were also special forces.

It was sobering. She never took the time to sit with all of this information and come to terms that these men had enemies that went deeper than just being from differing nations. Enemies that may or may not still be alive out there, preying on the downfall of the men she had come to know.

“Has anyone ever found you or Johnny?” Andra asked with a tremble in her throat.

“No.” He answered definitively. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

Andra nodded, as she fully agreed with him.

Ghost leaned back against the bench. “I truly never intended to alarm you and bring you to endless conclusions. I wish I could take it back, my foolishness, everything.”

“You can’t help that, though.” Andra defended. “It was a really messed up chain of events.”

There was a pregnant pause. “I have moments like these when there are too many coincidences happening at once. I’ve been working on how I handle it.”

Andra turned to him. “Do you… talk to someone about it?” She felt hesitant to ask.

Ghost’s eyes slid back to her. “Does that bother you?”

She shook her head swiftly. “No, oh Gods, no I didn’t mean it that way.” Her hands covered her face for a moment. “That was wrong of me to ask.”

Ghost reached for one of her hands. “You have every right to know, doll.” The calloused pad of his thumb brushed the top of her hand. She could feel a tremor in his touch.

It would have warmed her heart had it not been for the churning contrite souring her stomach. He had every right to know, too, but how would she even begin to tell him?

His injured hand was holding hers. She took this opportunity to distract herself from the guilt eating at her. “What happened to your hand?”

“Ridiculous accident with some glass.” He answered too quickly. Andra could feel him wanting to recoil, but he continued to let her hold his hand. Her peripheral vision gave her a peak of Ghost studying her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted.”

Andra let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. “I really haven’t been sleeping. Every little noise wakes me up, and I lay there for hours.”

Ghost’s eyes turned serious. “What can I do to remedy that?” Andra started to shake her head. “No, I’m responsible for this. Name it, I’ll do what I can.”

“I was actually on my way to go pick up a security system I ordered from the post office.” Andra raised her hand with her set of keys jingling.

Ghost stood from the bench, Andra followed in suit. “That I can do.”

Her smile returned. If it was one thing Andra was certain about Ghost, acts of service was how he communicated his apologies. It was easier to demonstrate with his hands than words.

After picking up the hefty box of camera and motion sensor equipment, Andra worked around the farm after her and Ghost discussed where the best places to set up the cameras would be. He got it done in less than a few hours, giving them time to pick up food together.

As they traveled, she remembered Johnny was waiting for an update from her.

Ghost is fine, we’re picking up food.

“So, you read the book in the past three days?” Ghost asked to start up chatter. Look who’s talking more now.

She hummed. “I read when I can’t sleep, and found it sitting there on the table before I locked up for bed.” Andra glanced at him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” Her phone vibrated with a response.

Thank you.

Ghost shrugged. “I lay there hoping I fall asleep.”

“I would get so bored.” Andra confessed, tapping her hands on her thighs. “You don’t even scroll through Netflix or something to try and turn your brain off?”

“I don’t have Netflix.” He responded.

Andra shook her head and blinked. “Remind me to give you my login.”

“I don’t watch TV or movies.”

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do watch movies, but they’re all old war movies or westerns on DVD.”

Andra narrowed her eyes. “What are you, fifty?”

Ghost chortled. “I have a while before I hit fifty, thank you for that.”

“How long is a while?” Andra smirked. “Five years or six months?” His mouth opened, but she kept going. “Wait, I bet you have M.A.S.H. all on DVD, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with M.A.S.H.” Ghost defended.

“Yeah, when you’re as old as my dad and watching it on your days off as you doze on the living room couch at eleven in the morning.”

“You’re pushing your luck, doll.” Ghost warned with a grin in his voice. “Let me put it this way, I joined the Royal Air Force after the events of 9/11.”

Andra’s face went slack and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She turned to the passenger window with a hand pretending to scratch the side of her head and wondered if he would be weirded out if she told him she was in grade school during 9/11.

Her silence was loud in the cabin. “We’re not that far apart in age if you know M.A.S.H.” Ghost resumed.

Andra raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I look old?”

“No.” His accent thickened as his voice dropped. “I didn’t say that.”

She was having too much fun busting his chops. “We have a tad bit of an age gap,” she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger with a small gap, “I’m a ninety’s baby.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Three years is a tad of an age gap, not a whole decade.”

Andra rolled her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to in my thirties?” She laughed at the flash of astonishment as he panned a look at her. “I’m kidding! Well, kind of, but I’ll be thirty next summer.”

Ghost smoothed his hand over his covered mouth. “You’re killing me, woman.”

“Best stay on top of those heart meds then – ooh!” Andra shot forward and was caught by her seatbelt from Ghost slamming the breaks harder than normal. “You’re gonna cause an accident, sir.”

After a few beats of silence, Ghost changed the subject. “I hope the camera system will give you some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure it will.” She nodded with a hopeful smile.

Ghost ran inside the chip shop they ordered from while Andra sat in the truck to keep it running. Her head tilted back onto the head rest as she stared up at the roof of the truck. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, and now that there was less of a problem with surveillance around the farm, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.

The sudden sound of the driver door opening had her jerking back awake. She attempted to cover up the fact that she had dozed off in his truck with a little stretch of her legs.

Ghost handed her the bag of food without noticing her brief second of sleep and drove back to her house.

-----

“I get why you go to this place.” Andra spoke in between eating in the living room with him. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s also because Johnny has been getting us discounts from his little girlfriend.” Ghost wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin.

Andra looked over the app on her phone that connected her to all of the cameras on her property. The feed looked really good, giving her confidence that she could point out important details if she ever had to. She switched to the camera that aimed at the dirt driveway with both trucks sitting outside. Her thumb and index finger spread across the screen to utilize the zoom feature; she was able to read off the license plate numbers from each truck.

“Thank you again for setting up the cameras.” Andra locked her phone and placed it down on the coffee table.

Ghost covered the lower half of his face back up with the balaclava as he finished his own meal. “Thank you for letting me.”

Her heart fluttered at the sudden drop in his voice. His eyes were set on her when she turned to look at him. Despite not being able to see his expression, she could feel a softness in his brown eyes.

“Let me get these out of the way.” Ghost insisted as he began to collect the takeout containers. Andra sucked down the last of her drink in her Styrofoam cup and tossed it into the bag Ghost was using.

Andra slipped a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “You staying for a little while?”

“I can.”

She felt some relief for having to spend less time by herself for the evening.

While Ghost did his thing, Andra browsed her bookshelf in search of a new read.

“Anything interesting?” Ghost asked as he returned.

Andra chose Dune from the shelf. “Maybe.” She returned to her designated reading lounge chair and curled her legs up. “How far did you get with The Outsiders?”

Ghost scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the first fifty pages.” Then, he tilted his head. “How did you know I had it?”

Andra smirked. “It was gone the following morning after you left.”

Did she have him flustered? The indecisive glance to the couch and back to the front door then back to the kitchen was amusing enough to have her grinning.

“I have it in the truck, actually. Be right back.” Ghost made his way outside, letting in a kissing, chilly breeze.

It must have been the book she chose, or the way she receded back into the cushions, but she felt the wave of sleepiness return back. Or maybe it was Ghost’s presence, knowing he was only a few feet away on the couch with Sammy next to him. He emitted an aura that Andra could only classify as comfort. Safety.

She knew he was safe to fall asleep around, she knew he would keep her safe.

Andra flinched out of the sleep she was slipping into and let out a disappointed sigh. Her book was still in her hand, but the pages were damp from the warmth of her fingers holding them in place. She closed the book, not worried about where she left off because she wasn’t paying attention anyway and softened her movements as she looked to her right.

Ghost’s head lulled to one side from the upright position he fell asleep in, his arms crossed over his chest and his own book sitting on the table with Sammy resting in her own bed by the window. The heavy breath he suck in and released told her he was deeper in that sleep than she was.

How is he sleeping with the mask on? Andra wondered.

With light movement, Andra rose from her chair and padded quietly to the hallway closet to retrieve a blanket. He looked as tired as she felt halfway through the day, and she wasn’t about to wake him up and send him home. She unraveled the blanket and moved to lay it over Ghost just above his arms and below his collarbone.

But his awareness was more keen than Andra had anticipated. Ghost reached out, throwing the blanket off and swiped her wrists single-handed. The room went spinning, and she let out a small yelp as her back met the bottom cushions of the couch, his grasp securing her wrists above her head.

Ghost’s eyes were wild with alert, then widened as he realized who he just wrestled down. It startled her at first, but out of nervousness a chortle escaped. Then a chuckle, and confusion wrinkled Ghost’s eyebrows.

She probably looked insane to him. She was supposed to be frightened, but all she was was dizzy. And too aware of how his body hovered over her. The grip on her wrists eased up but remained there. Her giggles dissipated, along with whatever she was about to say. She was too absorbed by Ghost’s eyes darting all over her face, and she wasn’t too sure, but she was almost certain he kept looking to her mouth.

Before Andra could register what she was doing, she pressed her lips against the teeth of the skull pattern on his mask, hitting her mark as she felt his lips beneath. Ghost pulled away like she had put his hand in an open flame, his eyes widened. Oh shit, what have I done –

His empty hand shoved up the fabric of his balaclava and he smashed his mouth against hers. Heat blazed through her face, molten liquid flooding her core as she took in every sensation overwhelming her. The fierce hunger of his kiss. The friction of their bodies pressed against each other. The solid grip Ghost had on her wrists.

She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her leg attempted to hook around his waist, but only succeeded in wrapping around a thigh that nestled its way between her legs.

He couldn’t pull himself away, and instead fed the part telling him to nudge his knee where she wanted it. Ghost freed her hands to grip the thigh pulling him in, giving her free reign to cradle his stubbled jaw. His fingertips worked divots into the fabric of her jeans, earning a small sound from her tightening throat.  

Andra hoped there would be marks later left where he was squeezing.

Her tongue slipped out between her lips and playfully swiped across his mouth. Oh fuck, the sound that just came from him… Andra had never heard arousal so delicious before.

All of Ghost was crashing through her like a freight train. His taste, his heat, his sounds. Her head felt like it’s been shoved underwater, and she has no intentions surfacing for air. Not when drowning in all of him felt this good.

Ghost reciprocated her invitation and found his tongue pushing through the slit of her lips. She felt her own arousal winding tightly in her warmth. Anything more was likely going to set her off. There’s no way I’m coming just from this, she cursed herself.

Ghost pulled away, hit hot breath fanning over her face. He moved his free hand to his mask, but it remained there. One second, two seconds. His mouth slackened into a frown, lips parted with labored breathing. The trance had been broken between the two. He retreated from where he had Andra pressed into the couch, his hands ran down his face and stayed there as he battled with himself.

Andra adjusted her shirt as she sat up and gave him a nudge of space. “Hey,” she softly said as she brought his hands down, cradling them in her own. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” He rasped, breathless from their kiss. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” She took his hand away from his face and stroked his knuckles with her thumb.

Ghost blinked a few times like he was waking up from a dream. “I shoved my tongue in your mouth.” He stated, a little too forward. His words had heat rushing to her face. “The least I can do I show you who is beneath this.” He gestured to the mask covering half of his face, a bitterness in his words directed to his disguise.

Andra slowly raised her hands to the bottom half of his revealed face. He flinched away from the contact, but settled as she let her thumbs brush against the stubble on his jaw. She made no subtle movements; just exploring the craters and slits across his skin.

Ghost watched her silently, attentively, his eyes flickering back and forth. She can feel the intensity, a man questioning the intentions of the woman touching him, holding the privacy and secrecy he clings to. He sucked in a breath as she took hold of the balaclava and didn’t exhale until Andra had pulled it back down over his face.

“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.” She affirmed.

 His bandaged hand brushed Andra’s disheveled hair behind her ear. Ghost leaned in and pressed his covered mouth against her forehead. Andra gave him a meek grin as he pulled away.

Andra felt this moment building up to a goodbye, but she took his hand again. “You can stay here for the night. I don’t want you driving back even if it’s just down the street.”

He reached down on the floor and picked up the blanket. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll take up the couch-”

“Sleep on a bed, for gods’ sake.” Andra nodded her head to the stairs. “I have an extra room upstairs.”

Thankfully, Ghost didn’t argue. Heavy feet dragged themselves up the stairs, Sammy following them both. They took pause as both turned to each other from across the hall. There was so much she wanted to say, but the brief, drowsy goodnight that was exchanged had them retreating into their respective rooms. Andra leaned against the closed door, clouds in her head and lips swollen with the phantom sensation of their catalyst.

:)

I've started up a taglist! comment if you want to get tagged for this story 🖤 likes & reblogs are wholeheartedly appreciated, your engagement helps new readers find me ✨

[strayheartless]

Strifehart story idea:

I love totally functioning and loving relationship Strifehart, but I also like 'worked really hard to get to that point' strifehart. I don't think it was easy for either of them to be vulnrable with eachother; they are both increadibly closed off and somewhat cold as people. So I've been formulating this slow-ish burn fic that I want on opinion on?

So it starts with Tifa and Cloud deciding to stay in Radient Gardens after the events of KH2. Cloud's been searching for Zack, which has led him down more dark paths than is strictly healthy and he decides to stay for a while and help Tifa set up her new bar.

Along the way he somehow gets pulled into helping with the RGRC (by Aerith and Yuffie) and via this has a proper introduction with Squall. They work together on some projects and get along well enough in so much as they like the fact that they can work in the same room together in silence and not irritate each other.

One night they are up late working on the new hydroelectric power generator for the city hall. When they finally finish Leon suggests Cloud crash in his spare room instead of dragging himself all the way to seventh heaven across town. Cloud accepts and when they get in Squall offers him a drink and they sit and chat for a while.

Niether of them know what led them to kiss. It wasn't the 'mood of the moment' and they certainly weren't drunk, but they do kiss, and then in a move neither of them saw coming they end up sleeping together.

Cloud is out of the house before the sun rises the next morning, and Squall doesn't feel bothered by it. But then it keeps happening. Never at work, and always in Squalls house, never Clouds apartment. Cloud is always gone before Squall is awake, and they never ever talk about it, or even reference it in passing.

Thing's start to get complicated however, when Cloud decides that he's spent enough time 'playing house' and needs to go back out to make sure Sephiroth is still discorporated, and to search for any signs of when happened to Zack.

Squall is...

Squall is bothered by it. Not by Cloud looking for Zack, He knows thats long and complicated and not his business anyhow. He's not the Jelous type, and he's certainly not going to be jelous over a relationship he doesn't even have! But he finds himself feeling strangly hollow when he turns around and Cloud is not there in his office, or on construction sights.

He starts thinking about it more and more; agonisisng over the fact that when he's alone in bed, while he knows Cloud is on a different world, he can feel Cloud's absence next to him. It drives Squall mad.

It takes a while for him to figure out that he's falling for Cloud and when Cloud finally comes back, waking up without him there after their nights together starts to hurt. He wonders if he's letting himself be used, and the voice in the back of his head that sounds an awful lot like Rinoa tells him 'if he feels like that he needs to talk to Cloud'.

In true Squall Leonhart fashion however he doesn't and it begins to fester. Until one night when Squalls at home and can't sleep, he is pulled from his brooding over the kettle by a knock at the door.

It's two o'clock in the morning, everyone in the city is usually asleep by now, yet when he opens the door he find's Cloud, glassy eyed and frightened. He immidiatly ushers the other man in, checking him over and getting him to sit on the couch.

it doesn't take long to realise whats happened. Aerith and Tifa had warned all of them that Cloud's mental health was delicate. Squall had seen him have episodes before, but they were usually short bursts of forgetfulness; moments where Cloud would become agitated by not remembering what he'd done with a tool. This was something wholey more frightening.

Cloud didn't know why he'd come to Squall or what had caused him to feel he had to seek someone out. There were lucid moments where he'd answer to his name and others where he would look straight through Squall when the man called to him.

Squall eventually gets Cloud to lie down in the spare room, but after about an hour Cloud is up and crawling into Squalls bed and Squall doesn't know what to do to offer comfort except let Cloud sleep holding his hand; letting him hear Squalls breathing and his heart beat.

The next morning Cloud wakes to the smell of warm coffee and omlette. He tries to emotionally unvailable his way out of the door but Squall won't let him get away with it. in hind sight he could probably overpower Squall but that irritating ache thats been in his heart since he started sleeping with the man makes him stay.

Squall won't let up on the hard stares over breakfast and Cloud refuses to elaborate on what happened. Eventually they come to a stalemate and have to go to work.

but something changes between them. There's still a distinct lack of communication. Squall still feels like he's letting himself be used and its beginning to hurt more than he is willing to admit. Cloud is still fighting against every molicule in his body over how fast he's fallen for Squall. However, there is no Denying things are different.

Their eye's linger on each other now, where they hadn't before. Cloud at least lets Squall wake up before he leaves. people notice that they move differently with eachother, and Aeirth thinks thier secretly dating and she teases a very distressed Cloud over it until she realises that he looks like he wants to cry, but doesn't

Their frequent meetings don't exactly "change". They still have sex, Cloud still leaves, and they still don't adress it even inside the walls of Squalls house.

The fact that some nights they have to stop because Cloud has started crying is new though. Squall is always the one who puts a stop to it because he can see quite clearly that Cloud is incredibly vulnrable. Its scary to watch because Cloud doesn't cry. It's scary for Cloud too because he doesn't cry.

the whole thing comes to a head when Cloud turns up one night looking badly beaten. He'd picked a fight with a hearless swarm while looking for clues on Zack and ended up having to crawl through a dark corridor just to escape. He's unconcerned for his own state of being and Squalls had it with him. He drags Cloud into the bathroom and rants and raves at him while cleaning him up and casting healing spells over broken ribs.

He yells about how stupid and reckless and dumb you have to be to go up against a swarm on your own. He yells about the fact that Cloud has spent too long being allowed to get away with all this stupid behaviour and that he's going to get himself killed and...

"And how do you think I'll feel huh? when you die and I'm just here waiting for you to come back like the stupid fucking idiot that I am! when I'm sat here fucking wondering why the hell I let myself fall in love with you. God I'm so fucking stupid, this is ridiculous, I'm just convenient for you and I should be fine with that, but I'm not and its just so FUCKING STUPID!"

The door to the cabinet gets slammed so hard it comes off of a hinge, and suddely Cloud is staring at Squall who has dropped to a crouch, hands still holding on to the counter above him, as he lets out a scream of fustration that he muffles betreen his forearms.

Cloud is so dumb struck that he can only slip off of the counter, and kneel on the floor to hug Squall from behind.

After that they finally talk about what they've been doing. Its not easy; both of then have never been masters of the spoken word, but they realise that they've both been hurting eachother without realising it. Cloud by leaving Squall alone to feel used, and Squall by not seeing that Clouds tears and vulnrability was a plea to be more to him.

They discuss bounderies and ways they can communicate better. They talk about moving past just sleeping together and attempting something like a relationship. They negotiate likes and dislikes, needs and wants, hopes and fears.

In short they start the long road to being a functional and healthy couple.

[rebelwrites]

Twenty Three: Don’t Make A Scene

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till the wheels fall off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

“How is everyone doing back home?” I hummed, leaning against the wall of the Ferrari hospitality area, a smoke hanging from my lips as I squinted at my phone screen trying to block out the Italian sun, even with the raybans shielding my eyes it wasn’t enough. Everything was different here, I had never really traveled outside of Charming, well apart from the occasional run with Jax back in my teenage years. But this was different, the warmth of the sun beating down against my skin felt like I was being wrapped in a fluffy blanket. There was something comforting about it and I couldn’t help but smile.

Everything so far had been somewhat of a culture shock, I had tried foods that I would have never dreamt of trying, and even though I was still trying to adjust to the time difference I was living my best life.

“Everyone is good, in fact everything is perfect,” Jax smiled back, there was something about it that didn’t sit right with me. Not only wasn’t it as bright as normal but he had a haunted look on his blue eyes.

“Tell that to your face,” I scoffed, taking a long drag of the cigarette. “You look like someone just took a shit on your Harley.”

I stared intently at my device, watching as my older brother ran his hands over his face. “I’m just tired, that’s all,” he paused, obviously trying to think of what lie to spin. “There is nothing for you to worry about, I’ve got everything under control. Now enough about me, Squirt, how is Monza treating you?”

“It’s amazing, Jax,” I beamed. I finally felt free from the weight of the world that always seemed like it was crushing me into the dirt. Part of me felt bad for feeling like this, but I had quickly realized that taking care of Pops and the club had taken a toll on my mental health, so it was nice to have a break from it all. Although that didn’t stop me from missing everyone. “Everyone is amazing, and they are already treating me like family. Fred has taken the role of my body guard which is highly amusing,” pushing myself off the wall I decided it was time to head back into the garage, not wanting to miss the start of free practice.

“As in team principal, Fred Vassuer?”

“That’s the one, being the new kid on the block the press are trying to get the latest gossip but anytime they try and get too close to me whilst Fred is around he gets all protective of me. It’s kinda cute, reminds me of Pops.” I grinned, glancing over I noticed that the pit crew had formed what looked to be a human wall at the front of the garage. There was some sort of commotion going on, I wasn’t quite close enough to hear what was happening but the moment I heard my name being screamed I felt my blood boil. It had been years since I heard that scratchy voice, the sound alone sent a cold shiver down my spine.

“Squirt, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost, you have gone white as a sheet.” Jax asked, causing me to shift my attention back to him.

“I think I fucking have,” I mumbled, trying to stop the anger brewing deep inside me from bubbling over, causing me to explode, this was not the place, “that bitch has a fucking death wish.” I growled, flicking my gaze between my brother’s face and the opening of the garage.

“I can fucking see her, let me speak to my daughter.”

“There is no way,” Charles growled, venom dripping from his words. This was the first time I had seen this side of him but I wasn’t scared, in fact my heart skipped a beat at how protective he was being. “Sur mon putain de cadavre. Over my fucking dead body.”

I could feel the anger radiating through the phone screen from my brother, from the look on his face I was adamant he was going to jump on a plane to personally take care of the waste of space that was my birth mother.

“I am gonna fucking kill her,” Jax seethed, “She has no right crawling back into your life now, god I am so fucking angry right now!”

Taking a deep breath I knew I was going to have to take control of this situation, this was not the type of press coverage the team needed.

“Jax, I gotta go, don’t worry about me, I can handle this bitch,” I said, not taking my eyes off Charles. I could feel the anger radiating off him from the other side of the garage. “Charles is gonna snap and that isn’t good for him or the team.”

“Don’t make too much of a scene Squirt,” he hummed, cocking his brow at me.

“No promises.” I shrugged, before quickly saying bye.

Slipping my phone into the back pocket of my jeans I let out a shaky breath, I hadn’t seen this bitch since she last tried to make contact with me and Pops and the club chased her out of town.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Fred asked, appearing at my side.

“Je le serai, une fois que j'aurai mis cette salope à terre. I will be, once I put that bitch down.” I growled, clenching my fist by my side. She had no right trying to worm her way back into my life, I didn’t need her, she was dead to me.

“Il suffit de ne pas salir le sol et des blocs de glace se trouvent dans le réfrigérateur si vous en avez besoin. Just don't dirty the floor, and there are ice packs in the fridge if you need them.” Fred chuckled, taking my shaking fist in his hands squeezing softly. “Don’t let her get to you, kiddo.”

Slowly nodding at the Frenchman standing in front of me, I took a deep breath trying to steady my heart rate. I knew I needed to confront her otherwise she would never leave and reporters were already gathering around the garage trying to get the best shot of the disruption to the weekend. Within a few short strides across the room I found myself standing next to Charles, my hand instantly finding his, not caring if I outed our relationship at this moment. I needed his touch to keep me grounded and calm because I did not want my face plastered all over the gossip sites.

“The fuck do you want?” I said keeping my voice low and emotionless.

“I want to make amends, you are my daughter at the end of the day,” she pleaded. “I’ve changed, I went through rehab, I’m clean just for you baby.”

Rolling my eyes at the confession, did she think I was stupid? Her pupils were the size of dinner plates, she couldn’t stand still to save her life and was excessively sweating. I knew what her game was here and she wasn’t going to succeed in creeping her way back into my life, using me to get money.

“You ain’t clean,” I scoffed, leaning further into Charles. “Do you really think I would believe you? I ain’t that vulnerable five year old you left living in squalor just so you could get your next fix.”

“Fred, il faut la faire sortir d'ici. Fred, we've got to get her out of here.” Charles said, turning to his team principal.

I was moments away from lunging forward tackling the person who abandoned me, the main cause of my trust issues, the reason I carried demons on my back, but before I could step forward Charles wrapped his arms around my shaking body, holding me tight as he managed to guide me through the garage back to his driver room.

Once the door was shut I felt my resolve crumble, my fingers went into my roots as I slumped on the floor letting out a strangled scream. “Who the fuck does she think she is, coming here trying to act like the caring mother.” I growled, “you should have let me rip her apart.”

“Sunshine,” Charles whispered, crouching in front of me, placing a hand on my knee. “You need these right now,” he said softly, handing me a pack of cigarettes.

“I don’t,” I whispered, resting my hand on his cheek. “I just need you.”

“Je suis là, bébé, je ne vais nulle part. I'm here, baby, I ain't going nowhere.” he hummed, wrapping his arms around me, pressing small kisses against the top of my head. “Why would she come here now?”

“Because you have money and she is a gold digger, she must have seen the posts about us and thought she could get a massive pay day,” I breathed, gripping onto Charles’ fireproofs like my life depended on it, “and she knew if she tried to step foot in Charming, Pops would kill her with his bare fists.”

“Well, if she tries to come near you again I will drive over her with my car at 200 miles an hour.”

“Char, that would cause too much damage to the car,” I said with a slight laugh. Letting out a shaky breath I looked over his shoulder to the clock on the wall. “Five minutes till FP1 you better get going.”

“I can’t leave you, not like this.”

“I will be fine, promise,” I nodded, resting my forehead against his, “I’m gonna go chill with Fred, we might even make a list of different ways to kill her, you know just some light bonding nothing major.”

I knew Fred would make me feel better, there was something about him that reminded me of Pops, he happily took me under his wing in Zandvoort making me feel right at home within the team. I knew Charles had told him everything he needed to know about me and my past, which was the reason he was so protective over me when the devil made her appearance in the garage.

“Just don’t go all psycho killer on me now baby,” he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss against my lips.

“Don’t spoil all my fun, Mr,” I hummed, a small smile appearing back on my face. “Now go kick some ass out there.”

I found myself staring blankly at my boyfriend, trying to process the words that had just casually fallen out of his mouth.

“Hold on a second, you want me to drive that?” I stated, pointing at the SF-23 that was currently sitting in the middle of the garage.

“Were you not listening to me, Sunshine,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss against my temple.

“I was listening, but you do realize how crazy you sound right now? I don’t even have a super license, we would get into a shit load of trouble if anyone knows I took her on the track. She aint set up for me Char,” I rambled, not taking my eyes off the car, “there is no way. Aint happening, I will kill myself do you know how fast that thing is.”

The sound of Charles laughing caused me to tear my gaze away from the middle of the garage, cocking my brow at him, it was official he had completely lost his mind.

“Babygirl, it’s fine, we are all good, no one will know, trust me. Plus we aren’t in parc ferme conditions yet,” he smirked, slowly guiding me towards the car. “All I ask is don’t crash, I kinda need her for quali tomorrow.”

“You are fucking crazy, Leclerc.” I shot back, refusing to believe he was being serious. “We shouldn’t even be here, everyone has gone home.”

“Thought you loved driving fast?” he hummed, that cocky smirk still firmly planted on his face.

“Yeah in my beater of a truck, that if I am lucky will hit 70 miles an hour, or Jax’s Dyna, not a beast of a machine that is built for speeds of 200 miles an hour plus.”

“Fine, if you won’t drive this, what about this?” he said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket, placing them in the palm of my hand.

Dropping my gaze I ran my fingers over the bead keyring Elenor had made for him, my heart fluttering at the fact he had this on his keys, “wait, isn't this your Pista?”

“You talk too much,” he winked, moving so his arms were wrapped firmly around my waist, in one quick motion I had been thrown over his shoulder and was staring at his ass.

“Well, this is the best view ever,” I giggled, praying that he didn’t lose his grip as he carried me out to the track. “You drop me and I will kill you.”

“Quoi, comme ça ? What, like this?” he said, jolting his body causing me to cling onto him for dear life.

“Fucking asshole.”

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @burningcupcakefire @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[hunniegl4zed]

I can just imagine iblis and mephiles having a conversation about scourge’s mental health and how it’s declining rapidly.

For the first time in a while, mephiles feels true guilt and remorse for their friends. He hasn’t really felt that since the royal wedding crash months ago, and yet here he is, feeling it all over again.

Iblis can feel his pain, and does her best to reassure him that the reversion is the best possible scenario. They’ll just turn him into a teenager, make him forget a lot of his memories, and put him in with a loving home.

Or at least that was the original plan.

~48 hours later, mephiles is calling iblis, telling her she’s practically an aunt now, since the reversion went a little extra

Mephiles: “uhm… I think I went overboard with the chaos energy…”

-insert baby patch’s baby noises-

Iblis: -gasps of adoration- “IS THAT A BABY?!”

Mephiles: “…. Yes….”

-insert iblis squealing so loud you can hear it through the phone, and slightly through the clouds-

Mephiles: “sweet mother of-“

-insert perfect nazo laughing his ass off, only to have the others follow as well.-

Mephiles: “Damn it Iblis, keep squealing like that and you’ll bust my damn eardrums-“

You captured the moment so perfectly AS ALWAYS, HEV 😭🙏💜💜💜 Mister "I don't have feelings, I blurry them" gets a slap in the face mentally when Iblis and him talk about it, trying to figure out how to stop Scourge for crashing and burning everything along with it.

Hejeosixhdhs IBILS SQUEALING OVER THE PHONE IS ALL OF US! 🤣✨️✨️✨️ Just imagine how hype she will be when she sees him for the first time! Little chubby marshmallow 🥹🩵🩵🩵