#and how to calm down when it triggers me but i forgot everything she said literally 5 hours ago and now im here freaking the fuck out so. 🥰

[milo-manheim-luver]

The Night We Met Pt. 2 - Dad!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: when rafe finds out that his and Y/N son is slowly going down the same path he did, he decides to open up to their son about his past.

Warning: lots of angst (sorry), heavy drug use, drug overdose talk, alcohol consumption, physical violence, dark themes basically. (so sorry). lmk if i forgot any!! PLEASE DONT READ IF ANY OF THESE WARNINGS TRIGGER YOU!!!

A/N: i did a poll to see which fic you all wanted and this was the winner. i can’t remember how this idea popped in my head but it did. i really hope you all enjoy this one!! FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOMED! PLEASE BE KIND<33 ps remember to share and like!

W/C: 3.6k+ (holy fuck)

it had been seventeen years since Y/N and rafe had gotten married. the two of them had a son together, archie, who had just turned sixteen years-old. archie had definitely taken after his father looks. he was tall, with dirty blonde hair, and striking blue eyes that would catch anyone’s attention. he had also taken after his fathers athletic abilities, as he was the star quarterback for the kook academy on kildare island. but, unfortunately the worst way he took after his father, was the intense drug use that was slowly starting to make him an addict; just like his father, rafe cameron, was a mere twenty-one years-ago.

as archie had left for school one friday morning on figure eight, Y/N had entered his room to grab his dirty clothes to wash. as she’d grabbed some of his clothes, a small plastic bag had fallen from one of his khaki pants pockets, and onto the wooden floor of his bedroom next to Y/N feet. bending down, Y/N picked the small packet up to investigate it a little more, until realization hit, as tears began to brim her eyes. it was a packet of cocaine. the only thing she felt like she needed to do in that moment was call her husband who’d been in his office downtown at the cameron development. so she did. she immediately pulled out her phone and pressed rafes contact name, waiting for him to pick up as it rang through her ear.

“baby, what’s up? everything okay? you never call while i’m at work” rafe asked Y/N warily as he sat his falcon pen back down on his oak desk, ignoring the documents that needed his signature.

“i-i think y-you n-need t-t-to come home now” Y/N managed to stutter out, laundry basket long forgotten as she’d made her way to rafes home office, where there was the most privacy.

“what? why? baby, tell me what’s wrong” he insisted.

Y/N swallowed sharply before she began to stutter, and beat around the bush, not wanting to trigger him, “i-i found something i-in archie’s bed-bedroom, but i-i want to wa-warn you, i do-don’t want you tr-triggered hunny”

and in that instant, as soon as she said the world ‘trigger’, he knew she’d found not only drugs, but his old drug of choice; cocaine, in their sons bedroom. he let out a shaky breath of air, as he brought his left hand up to run through his shaggy curtain bangs he’d been growing out from his old buzzcut. “i’ll be home in ten, please don’t worry about me and my trigger, i’ll be fine hunny” he reassured his wife of seventeen-years. and with that he hung up immediately, leaving his office and telling his assistant it was family matters.

as soon as rafe put his porsche in park in the driveway, he ran into his and Y/N house which was located on figure eight, calling out Y/N name, “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU BABY? Y/N???!”

“keep it down rafael, i’m in your office you dumbass” she hushed her husband as she walked out of the french doors that lead to the said room. she grabbed his wrist and yanked him into his office, before she started to cry all over again.

rafe quickly wrapped Y/N into his arms, sending her hushed murmurs of comfort and love, easing her to calm down. she was so heartbroken her little boy was going down the same awful path his father once did. it was hard enough for her to have found rafe almost dead after his overdose twenty-one years ago. she had to go to a couple of years of therapy to recover from that incident. she couldn’t even bare the thought about losing her only child to the same demons that almost took rafe out years before. she clutched onto rafe’s forearm as he held her tight into his arms, trying to steady her shaky frame. he swiftly moved the two of them to his office chair located behind his desk, sitting down and bringing her into his lap where he continued to cradle her fragile head. he pecked her head repeatedly before speaking softly, “hey. hey, Y/N look at me hunny” as he held her cheeks to make her look at him. and in that moment his heart shattered. seeing the love of his life hurt tremendously broke him to his core. swiping some of her tears away with the pads of his thumbs he began to speak again, “we will figure this out love. we will get him the help he needs. i’ll do right by him since my father never could for me. he will be okay. i promise. even if i have to tell him about my addiction. got it sweetheart?” and with that, Y/N bit her bottom lip, and nodded her head to rafe’s reassurance.

“good, now, where is it? i promise i will be fine, you don’t have to worry about me. okay?” rafe asked Y/N as he lightly brushed her curtain bangs back behind her ear with the back of his hand, bringing his lips to hers for a delicate but loving kiss. she placed one of her shaky hands to his scruff covered cheeks, stroking his cheekbone softly, “promise you’ll be fine?”

“promise” he cooed as he grabbed her hand that had been stroking his cheekbone and placed a chaste kiss to the palm of it. she then used her other hand to grab the bag of white powder from her sweatshirt pocket, dropping it in rafe’s large, veiny hand.

“how are we going to approach him about it? you are the expert on this kinda stuff aren’t you?” Y/N attempted to tease rafe to lighten the mood. she’d always had a dark sense of humor, just like rafe.

smirking rafe responded,” hahaha very funny. i mean i am i guess? i know how not to approach him if that helps.”

“how so?”

“as long as we don’t do what ward would do, i think we will be fine baby” rafe sighed out at the mention of his fathers name. a cold-hearted man is what he was. was no father to rafe…. ever. hell, he didn’t even acknowledge him as his father these days, only called the man by his name.

“i guess you’re right” Y/N sighed as she stood back up, preparing herself for what was to come in the next few hours.

“we got this baby, we got this. yeah?” rafe once again tried to reassure the woman of his dreams as she nodded her head in response.

——————-

rafe and Y/N had taken a seat on the living room couch as they waited for their beloved son archie to arrive home from school. he’d football practice, but had received a text from rafe demanding him to come home and skip the practice, adding in that he had already talked to archie’s coach, excusing his absence. archie, being just like his father was, obligated to make his father happy, came home in a hurry.

when the front door opened frantically, followed by hurried steps and commotion, Y/N scooted closer to rafe for comfort. she didn’t know what was going to happen or how it would go down. rafe placed his large, veiny hand on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze for reassurance that everything would be okay in the end.

“we’re in here archie!” rafe had hollered from the living room couch as he and Y/N both waited anxiously for archie to arrive.

“h-hey, what’s up? what was so important that i had to miss practice?” archie questioned as rafe motioned for him to take a seat on the couch opposite of the one Y/N and him were seated on.

“umm archie, your mom went to your room this morning to do your laundry and found something a little concerning. i wanna state that we aren’t blaming you and we aren’t criticizing you whatsoever bud, we love you and want the best for you” rafe spoke warily to his and Y/N young son who sat opposite of them, with worried eyes. archie knew immediately what Y/N found when his father said laundry. he had forgotten to put his drug of choice in his secret spot in his dresser.

rafe continued before archie could even speak a word, “ archie, bud, i get it. i know the high is great and all. i know what you’re going through a-“ rafe had been cut off mid sentence by a triggered archie who had begun to yell at his father.

“really? how in the hell would you, of all people understand how good it makes me feel when i get a little bit of a kick?”

and with that outburst and those words coming from his precious archie, came rafe’s sadness and anxiousness. he had to tell him about his addiction and more specifically; he had to tell him about his overdose that dreadful night Y/N had found him in his bedroom. frustratedly, he pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly as he tried to find the words to tell archie about his horrible past. he tried to sniffle back some tears, but gave up as he had remembered the only reason why he used to hold back his emotions; his father. so, he let a few tears fall down his stubbled cheeks as Y/N had an arm around his shoulders rubbing his back while the other rubbed his inner thigh to comfort him, all while whispering sweet nothings only rafe and her could hear.

“you got this” she whispered as he raised his head again to make eye contact with archie.

“archie…” he started as he composed himself for what he was about to say. “when i was your age, i used to go out and party a lot. when i first started doing cocaine i was only fifteen years-old. nobody knew in my family. hell, it’s not like anyone would have even cared if they had known anyways” rafe shook his head as he took a deep breath to continue.

“and by the time i was seventeen, all i did was party, drink, snort cocaine and get into a lot of physical altercations. i was heavily addicted to the drug. and some of those altercations i had were so bad that some people were even hospitalized. i was not a good person and i sure as hell was a danger to myself and those who were around me.” he swallowed the lump in the back of his throat as he was about to tell archie about a time when he had hurt topper so bad he had to go to the hospital for many reasons. he still couldn’t recall what had happened that night. and yet for some odd reason, topper was still his best friend to this day minus Y/N, she would be his bestest friend til death do them part.

“once, i got so high that when your uncle topper tried to get me to ease up on the lines and shots and get me to go home, i literally blacked out and beat the living shit out of him. he was hospitalized for two days. i broke two of his ribs, his nose, many lacerations from a beer bottle and a concussion. cocaine, let alone any drug for that matter, is not the answer to anyone’s problems. i would know” he pleaded with archie as rafe’s face scrunched up in hurt as he remembered the aftermath of that fight like it was yesterday.

“b-but, buddy, what’s worse is the night i overdosed on cocaine when i was seventeen years-old, twenty-one years ago. if it weren’t for your mom coming over to find your aunt sarah to do some project for school, i wouldn’t be here right now. it was your fucking mother who found me being delirious and aggressive. i almost hit her because i was so out of my mind. but then before i could do anything, i passed out and went out cold, all while my heart almost stopped beating” rafe croaked out as Y/N continued to rub rafe’s back as this had always been a tough subject to talk about after she had told him she was the one who’d found him that night. he continued again once he cleared his throat, “that night i had done a few extra lines and what i didn’t know at the time was that they were laced with small amounts of fentanyl and that’s why my heart rate was so low. i had to have THREE doses of NAR-CAN archie. and then i went into a 2-day coma” rafe started to cry again, not from the remembrance of that night but to the idea that that could be his boy one day.

“i-i didn’t know that dad” archie stuttered out as he looked down to his lap.

rafe continued, “my dad was so adamant about keeping the fentanyl part private that he paid people off so it wouldn’t ruin his deals. and he scrutinized me for doing drugs. he never asked me why. and sure as hell never really cared about me. i promised myself i would do right by you since my father never could do right by me. so that’s why we’re talking and not judging you for your choices.”

“why did you do it?” archie asked his father the question very few people had ever asked him throughout these 23 years since he’d first been introduced to that drug.

rafe, who’d been taken aback responded with a shake of the head confused, “wait what?”

“why did you start using?”

“um, my mom had died when i was ten and from that point on i wasn’t okay mentally. i didn’t have the love a child needs from their mother, instead i had a greedy, self centered, physically and emotionally abusive, selfish man for a father. he only ever seemed to care more about both of your aunts, money and my step mom, than he did me. he would hardly even look my way. he never truly loved me. so when i got to the kook academy and went to my first party, i was offered a line and took it. it made me feel what i thought was happy but looking back at it i just felt numb. but it was just a way for me to forget about my own shit and past and my emotions. using cocaine allowed me to forget everything that had happened. but with it came hurting others i loved and cared about. which is more important to me than myself. i’d do anything to go back and not get addicted. i hated hurting the ones i loved most. and it took years to build my relationships back up all because of my addiction. addiction is a demon. i’m lucky i got clean. you’re lucky you have us, supportive parents who will be there for you every step of the way” rafe spoke with passion as he looked deep into his boys blue eyes that had resembled his own.

“dad, i’m scared. how do i even get clean? how’d you get clean?”

“baby, archie, i don’t wanna find you like i found your father. that night was the scariest night of my life. i had ptsd from that night and had to go to therapy for a few years due to it. i don’t know if i can do that again, especially if it’s you hunny” Y/N cooed as she leaned forward to caress her boy’s face, pushing back his curtain bangs that resembled his fathers when he was his age.

“arch, it’s okay to be scared. hell, i was so scared when i woke up in the hospital and the doctor told my dad and i that i had overdosed on cocaine and fentanyl. when i heard that i wanted to get clean, but i was so scared. and my father had always told me anytime i showed emotion of any kind, to man up. to not show emotion. that’s what lead me to the drugs in the first place. embrace your emotions bud. even if it means you’re scared. it’s healthier that way.” rafe attempted to explain how he felt about expressing one’s emotions.

prepared to answer the second half of archie’s question rafe took an even breath in and out before he spoke, “i got clean probably the worst and most painful way you can do it. i went cold turkey. which takes a lot of determination. after seeing your aunts so scared, i wanted oh-so badly to get clean. but i was hard on the drug. i had gone to another party one night my senior year of high school, and had just quit two days before, when i met your mom. well i thought that was the first time i’d met her because in reality i had no recollection of the night of my overdose. had no idea your mom was the one who’d saved my life. anywho, i basically felt drawn to her and just being around her and talking to her kept me grounded and in line with what i needed to do. and that was get clean. i couldn’t go to a rehab because then my fathers business partners would’ve heard and his deals would’ve fallen through. so i did it on my own. but archie buddy, if your addiction is as bad as mine was by the time i was sixteen, then i want you to know your mom and i want to put you in rehab. it’s the healthiest and best way to get clean”

“i-i never knew that dad. i-i’m sorry. and mom used to go to parties?” archie frowned, as he tried to lighten the mood just slightly, earning a small chuckle from both of his parents.

“and that’s why i’m telling you bud. and yeah your mom was one hell of a beer pong partner” rafe smirked as he side-eyed his wife Y/N. “but arch, bud, i need to know, how often do you use? i promise i won’t judge you. okay? i’ve been through this same boat years ago. i’m here for you. we’re here for you” rafe cocked an eyebrow up as he questioned his only son.

“every other day sometimes every day. it just depends. i only started doing it after my injury last football season. yah know, when i broke my wrist? i was just so upset and frustrated that i couldn’t play for the rest of the season and then before i knew it, i was addicted i guess” archie huffed out in anger, just like his father used to do all those years ago. just thinking about how easily he got addicted to the drug pissed him off beyond means. the boy just wanted to get clean.

“fuck” rafe sighed as he bent his head down in his large hands. how had he not even noticed the change in archie? why hadn’t he even thought about how that injury could’ve affected him mentally? was it because he’d been working so much? was he just a horrible father like his own dad was? tears began to brim his eyes once again.

“dad, don’t feel bad about this please. it’s not your fault. i already know that you’re thinking you’ve being working too much and that’s why you haven’t noticed. that’s not true. i’ve just been hiding it really well” archie, spoke to his father as tears brimmed his own eyes now.

“i’m trying not to archie. it’s just hard. are you open to going to rehab or not?” rafe questioned as he lifted his head, swallowed his pride, and pushed back his tears to stay strong for archie and Y/N during these hard times. “i just want to express to you buddy, how lucky you are. this is a great opportunity. you’re lucky to have parents who truly care and love you because i never had that after my mom passed. and we both want the best for you” he continued on.

“of course i’ll go” archie quivered out as he looked at both of his parents. he felt so guilty to have put them through such a mess. especially his mother, Y/N, as she’d been through almost losing rafe all those years ago. he couldn’t even imagine the damage that must’ve done to her mentally when she found him. and to think that that could be him next that she found broke his heart to a thousand pieces.

“i-im sorry” the sixteen year-old boy croaked out to his two loving parents as he lunged forward to hug them both.

“we love you too baby, and we’re gonna get you the help you need” Y/N cooed to her little boy as she pecked his head.

“we’ll get you the help i never got, bud, okay? you’re gonna get through this, okay? got it?” rafe asked his son as he held archie’s face in his hands, making eye contact.

“yeah. im a cameron, of course i got this” he chuckled. “us cameron’s are stubborn and can make it through anything. right?” he questioned his father as he looked up at him.

“damn right. i love you archie, and i’m proud of you for taking such a big step. you’re gonna get clean and you’re gonna stay clean” he patted his son’s cheek as the three soaked in the last of their presence’s before archie left for rehab.

rafe sighed with a smile. he knew archie would get better…. after all he is a cameron for christ sake. ‘it’s hard to get rid of them’ he thought to himself as archie left that night for rehab. he smiled to himself because he knew in the end it would all work out. it always did for a cameron.

@slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Trigger warning: period-typical homophobia and associated slurs

Part 1 | . . . | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39

Allison smiles at Eddie as they listen to Steve bicker with Dustin. Eddie glances at her, sees her smiling, and looks… disgusted. “God,” he says with a sneer, “you thought we were serious? That we’re some fags? You thought you could have your picture-perfect little dream life, didn’t you?”

Allison feels fear tingle down her spine. She gets off the counter and makes her way around the island, angling it between her and Eddie, letting her get close to the sliding doors that lead to the backyard.

Just then Steve comes back in, and Allison pleads with her eyes. “Steve? Bubba?”

“Sorry, Allison,” he says, though he doesn’t sound sorry. “You thought we’d accept you being a dyke?”

He and Eddie begin to laugh, and as tears prick at her eyelids, she feels behind herself for the door, throws it open, and steps outside.

Except she’s not outside. She can feel herself calming down slightly as she recognizes the hallway: it’s the one on the way to Cassidy’s room. “Cass?” She calls timidly, wiping her eyes. “Cassie?” She opens the oh-so-familiar door and freezes in the entryway. It’s not Cassidy’s room; it’s a room she’s never seen before. It looks like a meeting room. Her father is at one end of a long table, her mother just to his right. Steve’s to his left, with Eddie to his left, and Cassidy is on her mother’s right. The rest of the table is filled with friends and acquaintances from school, all staring at her, judging her.

She takes a step back. “Daddy?” She asks, like she’s five years old again.

Richard Harrington sighs. “Honestly, Allison, I thought we raised you better than this. Your mother and I didn’t raise you to throw your life away like a prostitute.”

“Dad, I love her,” she pleads.

Cassidy scoffs. “Do you? When you forgot my birthday? When you got me earrings for our anniversary? When you keep dragging your feet about everything?”

Allison gapes. “I- I didn’t- we celebrated later,” she tries weakly. “You said you loved the earrings. And I’m- I’m not trying to drag my feet-”

“Allison,” Cynthia Harrington says, spreading her hands. “We just want what’s best for you, darling. Come with us.”

The rest of the table starts murmuring, with us, come, come with us, and Allison’s heart kickstarts in her chest before she runs out of the room.

She ends up on a cursed-looking landscape, with dead earth and red sky, sticky vines and prehistoric-looking beasts.

She sees a clump of dead trees and sprints towards them, hiding in between them as best she can.

“Allison?” She hears, and her heart thumps in her chest, but how can she be sure?

“Alli? Baby?”

She turns around to see Cassidy trapped under a fallen tree, and she gasps. “How’d you get here?”

“Please,” Cassidy groans, tears tracing down her cheeks. “Please help me, baby, it’s on my ankle, I think it’s broken-”

“Cassie,” Alli sobs, falling to her knees next to her. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you.” She does her best to lift one end of the log off of Cassidy, enough so Cassidy can wiggle out. When she’s out, Allison drops the log and wraps Cassidy in a hug. “Baby,” she whispers. “Baby, I’m so scared.”

“I know you are, sweetheart,” Cassidy says, but it’s not Cassidy, and Allison steps back and looks up with a gasp.

“W-what- who- who are you?”

His face contorts into a sickly grin. “I have many names,” he says, raising his arms as if to embrace her again. She eyes him distrustfully. “None of them will make any difference to you, though, since you’ll be dead before you can use them.”

She pivots on her heel and runs, ignores everything she can that isn’t her feet pounding on the dead earth. She suddenly hears a bit of music, which is so unlike anything she’d experienced in this place that she instinctively turns to it. It sounds almost like Steve.

“Darling, you got to let me know,” the voice sings, “should I stay or should I go? If you say that you are mine, I’ll be here till the end of time. So you got to let me know, should I stay or should I go?” Then the voice starts speaking. “C’mon, Al,” it murmurs. “You gotta fight, please. I just got you back, c’mon, I can’t lose you again. Not this soon. I won’t let him have you, Al, but you’ve gotta fight too.”

He starts the next line, and she suddenly sees something like a portal in front of her. As she gets closer, she can see herself, floating off the ground, eyes rolled back in her head. Steve’s standing on the counter, trying to reach her ear to speak. “Bubba,” she murmurs, running as fast as she can. Something tells her to look behind her, but she knows it’ll cost her speed, so she doesn’t, just runs to the portal and jumps through, back into her body.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 4/?

Part 4, loves!

Triggers: Flashbacks/nightmares about torture, mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of possibly abusing a pregnant woman (neither party knew yet), mindfuckery Graves playing mind games, possessive behavior. Let me know if I forgot any!

Taglist! @unicorngirly1 (thanks for the ideas, love!), @sharksausages, @bellgraves, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you want in, let me know :)

A/N: This is entirely new territory for me! Lots of ups and downs in this one. Let me know what ya'll think! These chapters are getting harder to write, I'm not sure why! It might be because of my overwhelming work schedule and exhaustion. But I love this fic :)

Val experiences ups and downs in her first few days back with Shadow Company. Graves increases security but Val still feels vulnerably, especially when she finds out she's still expected to be in the field to help put an end to Makarov, a man she is terrified of.

-

You woke up to someone with their hands on your arms. You forgot you were back with Graves and lashed out. Or you tried to. He subdued you easily.

“It’s me, Val,” he said quietly.

You sat up. He was dressed. You weren’t. The scratches on your arms were worse than you thought.

“Why’d you do that to yourself?”

“It was a lot. It just brought back bad memories,” you responded. You were getting teary-eyed. Again. Fuck these hormones. “Shit, they drugged me, restrained me. They had me in cuffs and were about to lock me up—”

He hadn’t seen you cry in months. The last time Graves had seen you cry was when you were being tortured for information. You covered your face, trying to keep from sobbing.

So Graves, surprisingly, just held you until your tears stopped. Bandages were placed on the worst scrapes.

Graves had done that before. He’d patched you up plenty of times after his men were finished ripping you to pieces while interrogating you. Your schooling background told you he had done that to get you to associate him with comfort and to make it more likely that you open up to him (and you did; you eventually broke under all that torture and gave Graves exactly what he wanted).

But one thing Graves had not done before, ever, was hold you. Sure, you’d both laid around in bed after having sex but that was a far cry from Graves holding you for comfort.

“Shepherd hadn’t made me aware it had gone that far,” Graves’s voice was calm, weirdly soothing. “Wait,” Graves gently pushed you out of his arms and those deep blue eyes met your darker, red-rimmed ones.

“So they were about to lock you up, and you were steps away from being put in a cell,” Graves stated.

“Yessir?”

“You can knock off the sir unless we’re roleplayin’, darlin,” Graves smirked. His tone then turned serious. “Why didn’t you break? You would’ve gotten way better treatment if you’d just talked, told ‘em everything about me, Shadow Company, everything.” Graves paused before adding, “About everything we did to you.”

“I couldn’t. You were just following orders.” you said simply. “It’s—I’m—I’m—I don’t know how to explain it. I’m weirdly attached to you. And I’m convinced it’s just gonna stay that way forever. You’re never gonna let me get away are you?” You stopped before adding, “Be honest,”

“Hell no,” Graves answered immediately. “I wasn’t gonna let you go before but now that you’ve got my kid? Never.”

“And what would you have done to me if I’d talked?”

Graves didn’t answer.

“Or maybe not you but your men.”

“Tread carefully, Val,” Graves warned darkly.

That tone, that look, let you know that if you pushed enough buttons in the right order on the wrong day, Graves wouldn’t hesitate to at least smack you.

“I’m scared of you, Graves,” you finally admitted. “And while they’ve saved my life several times in the field, I’m terrified of your men.”

And the next question slipped from your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. “Would you have had them hurt me knowing I’m pregnant? If I’d talked at that hospital?”

The look in Graves’s eyes said it all. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to at least shove you. But he restrained himself. You saw an inner battle in that blue gaze, kind of like a bright, blue-sky summer day being interrupted by storm clouds but with the storm not quite gaining enough strength.

“Phil,” his voice was much softer than expected. And the look on his face was one you’d never seen before. Concern? Regret? Shame? Alarm? “I need an honest answer to the next question I’m going to ask you,” his voice gained an edge but it was no longer near as intimidating as it had been a minute ago when he’d warned you to tread carefully, Val.

“We’ve been—together so to speak since—”

“You mean we’ve been fucking since the first night we met when 141 introduced me to you, yes,” you added shamelessly. Only you had expected that relationship to be a meaningless friends with benefits stress release on the battlefield. You two were the only Southern Americans on the blended unit and so you connected and you started fucking. Harmless, right? Now look where you were. You wondered just when Graves became obsessed with you.

Graves didn’t take comfort in your attempt at humor and again, you hadn’t smiled in over 3 months now so neither did you. You wanted to get to the bottom of what he was asking because you hated him questioning you about anything. It tended to bring back bad memories.

“Did I have you tortured while you were pregnant?” Graves asked. “How far along are you?”

And a tiny part of yourself wanted to make Graves to feel like shit for doing what he did to you. What had done to you had been war crimes. But the brainwashed part of yourself overwhelmed that rational part of your brain.

“I don’t know,” you responded. Besides, you were terrified of what he would do or what he would order his men to do to you if he found out you lied and said that yes you are 100 percent sure you had been pregnant when he’d had you tortured. “I’m between 2 and 3 months.”

“Holy shit,” Graves counted on shaky fingers. And then his gaze met yours when he made the connections in his brain. It was entirely possible that you were ether pregnant or became pregnant shortly after he’d had you tortured. “But that’s an estimate,”

“Yessir. Most likely between 2 and 3 months. I just didn’t show cuz…all the gear and the required exercise routine and I’m on the smaller side.”

“So there’s a possibility I—”

“I don’t think you tortured me while I was pregnant,” but were you really a hundred percent sure of that? The hospital had told you in clear words: “How far along you are right now is an estimate. You could be further along. The detention facility you’re going to is going to have to call in an OB to get your history and run other tests. We’re just not too confident in how far along you are other than to say you’re about 2-3 months.” Hell, you’d wondered back then if Graves had indeed had you tortured while you were pregnant.

But here you were again trying to protect him.

-

Graves had stepped out a while ago.

You were exhausted and your head pounded. You were again feeling sick and seriously fuck these hormones because you were teary-eyed again.

You cried yourself to sleep.

-

You dreamt of your initial captivity with Graves. When he was still having you tortured. Only at that point he had started introducing hypnotic and mind altering drugs to try and get you to break.

You were strapped down after you’d freaked out and pulled that IV out of your arm in a second attempt to take your life. You’d been beaten, tortured, sleep deprived, and now you were being drugged. A nurse practitioner and combat medic, Shadow 10-4, had been put in charge of balancing your medical needs and trying to get answers out of you using drugs.

Everything kept going from muffled to painfully sharp and loud. You were drifting in and out of consciousness although you probably looked unconscious to Graves who was standing in the room having a conversation with none other than his superior, Shepherd.

“She’s not gonna break, General,” Graves’s voice went to sounding far away to sounding like he was shouting in your face. He sat next to you. Right next to you and his weight, his scent, his presence made you want to get the hell away from him but you were restrained and you were getting more and more intoxicated off of whatever the hell they were pumping into your veins.

You tried to focus on the oxygen catheter pumping oxygen into your nose rather than Graves’s voice because Graves’s voice was nightmare fuel right now. He was the one commanding his men and telling them what to do when they ripped you apart looking for the codes to those homing beacons.

Your drugged out mind reminded you that there was a 10-year age gap between Graves and you. He was about 10 years older than you. The volume on his phone was set to be just loud enough to where you could hear it. So when he sat next to you to talk to his superior, your suddenly ultra sensitive ears picked up on what Shepherd was saying.

Or were you hallucinating?

“Keep the prisoner focused on their own self-preservation and eventually they will break.”

“General, we’ve broken men in hours and we’ve had her for days. She won’t break.” Graves paused before adding, “Let’s stop.”

“Now you’re outta your damn mind,” you heard Shepherd snap. “Stop letting your feelings for this brat cloud your judgement. She’s listed in your paperwork as an enemy combatant, is she not?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir, she is,” Graves conceded.

“Treat ‘er like one,” Shepherd ordered. “You haven’t done any of it yourself have you? Tortured her.”

“I give the order—”

“Not what I’m askin, soldier,”

“I can’t sir. I cannot.”

“Are you limiting your men in what they can do?” Shepherd sighed.

Graves didn’t answer.

“If she doesn’t break in the next day, I’m gonna come in and break her myself,”

-

You awoke with a start. When it came to these dreams, you weren’t sure if they were complete fabrications of your imagination or whether they were partially true or if they were something else entirely. Had Graves really wanted to stop trying to break you?

Now that you were back with Graves you reached towards the nightstand, looking for something. Graves’s men had shared with you a bad habit: vaping.

And when you found yourself getting emotionally overwhelmed, you found yourself doing two things: vaping and blasting music. But you didn’t have your headphones. For some reason, you hadn’t gotten those back from when you’d been detained. 141, the police, and the military had thought they might be wired as explosives.

You quickly learned that you didn’t have your vape either. If you knew Graves well, and you felt like you did, it was just one of the many minute details of your life that now Graves would ensure to have complete control over.

-

You were still trying to get used to Graves holding you just because he wanted to it seemed. It caused anxiety still because when he’d held you all those months ago it was to restrain you or hurt you. Even now you shook just slightly in his arms. Whether that was from fear, nicotine withdrawals, hormones, all of the above, or something else you did not know.

He still scared you and couldn’t he tell you were uncomfortable? It wasn’t like Graves to care. It seemed that your relationship would continue to be toxic, just in an entirely different way. Instead of being physically abusive, he was going to be physically and mentally overbearing. He would control every aspect of your existence and whenever that poor kid was born? Graves would control their existence, too.

“Why you hummin’, darlin’?” his voice made you jump. “Get your headphones and listen to something.”

“They didn’t give ‘em back to me when they handed me over to Shepherd,” you responded.

“That’s just fuckin’ cruel,” Graves commented. “No wonder you agreed to come back to me. Consider them replaced.”

“I can’t vape, can I?”

“No ma’am,” he drawled. “Took that shit before you even got back. That was a bad habit my boys taught ya.” He paused before adding, “I still wanna know why you didn’t talk. They were about to lock you up.”

“I wasn’t gonna betray the father of my child,” You said.

And just like that, Graves’s mood switched. “Shepherd was right,” he smirked. “You’d make great wife material.”

There was that word again: wife.

-

“I’ve got my boys staying here watching you,” Graves’s voice drew you out of a light slumber. Your eyes stung and you were nauseous. Graves’s kid hadn’t even been born yet and he was already giving you a hard time. “Plus I’ve got something for added security.”

And while you still did not completely feel safe around Graves’s men, they had saved your ass more than once in the field. You were too tired, too exhausted to talk. And you were scared that if you opened your mouth that you’d be sick.

One of the last things you heard was Graves telling one of his men just outside the door asking about you that you should be okay. Graves told him to just give you some space until he got back. That you felt warm and didn’t seem like you were feeling well.

The only thing you hoped for was that Graves would hold off on telling Shadow Company about the pending addition because while you somewhat trusted them to keep you safe, there was no fucking way in hell you’d trust any of those men with your child. Those men had beaten and tortured you for days on end.

Those were your last thoughts before you passed out from exhaustion.

-

The door squeaked open. It didn’t open much but someone or something slipped in. The bed dipped and you felt something wet on your face.

“Graves, c’mon man,”

Was he licking your face?!

“That’s Riley,”

You jumped up, covering yourself with the sheets. There was a large German Shepherd next to you, licking your face.

“Riley?” You remembered that 141 or it’s allies had a dog named Riley once.

Was it the same dog?

“It’s not the same dog,” Graves clarified. “I just named it the same just to fuck with ‘em,” he smirked.

You felt a twinge in your chest when you heard Graves said he still liked messing with 141.

“We’re not gonna get along,” Graves read your mind. “They took you from me and I don’t play that shit, sweetheart,”

“He’s mine?” Riley sniffed at your still-damp hair and it made you—

“All yours and you need to—” Graves looked at you and he paused, stop talking.

It took a moment to get Riley away.

“Now that’s somethin’ I’d pay to see more often,” Graves smiled genuinely.

You were confused. “What?”

“That smile,” Graves pointed out. “I haven’t seen that in 3 months.”

-

“It’s just air support,” Graves explained. “We have a lead on Makarov and chemical weapons he’s been stockpiling.”

And while you’d been playing with Riley on the floor of the conference room, smiling when he licked your face, Graves got your attention by calling your name.

“That’s where you and Riley come in,” Graves added.

Wait…Graves was expecting you to have boots on the ground when Makarov was involved?

“He’s not primarily an attack dog but will attack if you’re in danger. He’s mainly a bomb sniffing dog.”

After that, Riley wandered away thanks to Shadows offering treats and so he made his way around the table before returning to you and plopping down heavily in your lap. You turned the rest of the briefing out because even though you’d thought Graves was going to be removing you from the field entirely given your condition, he was basically putting you within Makarov’s reach.

And so you promised yourself that if Makarov captured you, you’d take yourself out, pregnant or not. There was no way you could repeat the whole capture, torture, breaking process. No way.

But you were convinced you knew Graves well, and you told yourself that since 141 got their hands on you and he almost lost you, he wasn’t willing to leave you behind anywhere. He was going to continue dragging you and your child all over the world if needed as long as he had you within arm’s reach.

Graves thought you were his property. And you were wondering if he would see his child as his property, as another way to control you.

You told yourself he would.

“You look nervous, darlin’” Graves smiled at you when you were the only two left in that large conference room. “I know just the thing to calm you down,” he winked suggestively.

[crazyunsexycool]

Unbreakable

Chapter 2

Pairing: Steve rogers x reader

Word count: 2.0k

Warning: anxiety attack, nothing else really, Marvin being a good boy!

A/N: I’m gonna be honest I forgot I was writing this but here is chapter 2.

Series masterlist

Ch 1

Marvin whined as he stood by you. He tried to push his snout in between your legs and chest but you pushed him away. You were distressed and having an anxiety attack and all Marvin wanted to do was his job, calm you down. It took another try but Marvin successfully got your attention. He nuzzled his head into your chest until he felt your hands scratch behind his ears and your breaths starting to slow down. Slow deep breaths and cuddling took a few minutes but you were able to calm down.

Your new boss had decided to yell at you over a virtual team meeting for something that ended up not being your fault. Even though he apologized it had triggered your anxiety. As soon as the meeting was over you began to cry and then it felt like you couldn’t breathe at all. You’re not even sure when you ended up curled up in the corner of the living room. It wasn’t until Marvin brought you a water bottle and medication that you realized where you were.

“You’re such a good boy, Marvin.” You kissed the top of his head as soon as you calmed down. “The only boy I’ll ever trust.” You said as you ran your hand over his fur to further ground you.

After taking another few minutes you got back up and sat at your desk. You grabbed the journal you had started to keep track of these occurrences and wrote it down. This was your fifth notebook since your therapist had suggested it. It was meant to show you the progress you were making but you didn’t feel like there was any progress. Still you gave it a shot. After finishing the rest of your work day you turn to Marvin who is sitting by your feet.

“Let’s go for a walk, Marvin. Go get your leash.” The German Shepherd perks up and heads toward the front door to grab his leash while you change.

Steve sat at his desk, a sketchbook opened to an unfinished sketch. It was the New York skyline or at least half of it. Usually sketching helped him calm down, focus his mind on one thing. But ever since he met you all he could think about was you. Since that day Steve had checked and double checked his phone. He hoped you would call him just so that he knew you were ok but as the days and then weeks went on he gave up that hope too. He flipped the blank pages of the book and found the one he made of you. That same night he opened it for the first time since before the blip and drew something, someone, beautiful. His thumb caressed your face as he thought of the fearful look you gave him when he stopped you in the hallway.

After checking his watch, Steve closed his sketchbook and headed out the door to another meeting.

At the last minute you decided to head to a meeting. You were still feeling on edge and just being around other people that could understand how you felt made you feel more at ease. Marvin sat at your side, his head on your lap in order to comfort you.

“Would anyone else like to share?”

Another woman raises her hand and she begins to tell her story. Not that different from your own. She did everything from working and paying the bills to cooking and cleaning while her now ex did nothing. She explained how it’s been a few years since she left but that sometimes certain things will trigger a panic attack. It was why she was at the meeting.

Once the meeting was over you walked up to the woman who had shared her story. Everyone was talking and getting some of the refreshments that had been laid out.

“Excuse me, Lisa?” You say softly and she turns to you. A warm smile gracing her lips.

“Hi.”

“I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your story. We- uh we share a few similarities.”

“Have you ever talked in the group?”

You shake your head and grip Marvin’s leash tighter.

“You aren’t ready for it?”

“No, I’m still new to this group.”

She nods and digs into her purse, taking out her phone. “Would you like to trade numbers? Maybe we could have coffee or something.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” You smile for the first time that day as you trade numbers and you give her your name. “Thanks.”

“Of course, we can try and meet this week.”

“I’d like that. I’ll see you later.” You wave goodbye and head out.

Another woman from the group walks out right after you and you can tell she’s even more afraid than you are. So you slow down your pace to walk silently with her. She only gives you a small smile as you get to the stairs. Marvin leads the way and he lets out a huff once you’re on the first floor. It seemed like there was a different support group also getting out at the same time. The woman waved at you and scurried away. You look back at the group of people that are milling about in the hallway and that’s when you see him. Steve is saying his goodbyes to someone and you turn and leave.

“Marvin you have got to be kidding me.” You complain when he decides to sniff a fire hydrant and lift his leg to relieve himself.

“Y/N?”

You turn to see Steve walking out of the building. He has a genuine expression of surprise to see you there and then he smiles. You swallow thickly as he gets just a little bit closer. There was no way for you to deny the little, teeny tiny, itty bitty happy flip your stomach does at seeing that smile. But no you couldn’t allow yourself to feel those types of things. They only ever got you hurt.

“Hi, Steve.”

“It’s nice to see you. Were you at the meeting? I didn’t see you.”

“I was at a different meeting.”

“Oh ok.” And then you say it, the lightbulb going on above his golden hair. “The other meeting here.”

You only nod and then look away. The way people looked at you always made you mad. You didn’t need pity.

“It’s Good you’ve found a group to help. My offer still stands, if you have my number that is.” He puts his hands in his pockets.

“I do.” You murmur.

“Good. Well see you around Y/N.” He smiles again. He really needed to stop doing that around you or you would do something dumb. Like inviting him to the dog park.

Steve threw the ball much further than he intended but Marvin loved it. Your furry best friend ran at full speed almost to the other side of the park.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget I’m not throwing the shield around.” His cheeks grow pink as he takes a seat on a neck next to you. “Thanks for inviting me, by the way.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“So how have you been?”

“I’m ok, most days. How about you?” You asked as you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

Steve took a moment to think about it. Marvin ran back to him with the ball in his mouth. Steve grabbed it and threw it again, just not as far.

“I’m managing, most days at least. I lost two of my closest friends in the blip. There are these little moments between being asleep and waking up where I’m not fully conscious and my first thought is I should check on Bucky or I should go on a run with Sam. Then it hits me that they aren’t here.” He shrugs. “Those days are the hardest.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry, you didn’t fail at stopping the blip from happening.”

“I know,” you take the ball Marvin presents to you and throw it. “But whenever I wake up and remember my ex isn’t here I’m thankful that it did happen. Why couldn’t just the bad people disappear you know?”

“Yeah, I think that would give me a great reason to retire.”

The corner of your lips curled upward and it didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“What’s so funny?” He said with a smile of his own.

“Nothing,” you shrug. “Just that I forget that you’re like a gazillion years old.”

“Wow. A gazillion, that’s a new one.” He chuckles as you pull out a collapsible bowl and pour some water in it for Marvin.

“At least you don’t look like it.”

“My only saving grace.” Steve replies just as his phone starts ringing. “Give me a sec. Hello? Where? No, I'll be there. See you soon. Yeah, bye.”

You were already placing the collar on Marvin when Steve turned around to look at you.

“I need to go but… only if you feel comfortable, would you text me and let me know you got home safe?”

“I will try to Remember that.” You said as you stood.

“Ok, good. See you around Y/N.” Steve waved and left the park.

“Alright boy, let’s get home.”

Marvin stood up and moved to your side, waiting until you packed the drinking bowl he had used. Then you were off.

“What’s going on Nat?” Steve asked the minute he walked through the door.

“I know you said you didn’t want to do missions but we could really use the backup.”

“Who else is on the mission?”

“Myself, Rhodey and Rocket.” Nat said while she pleaded with her eyes. “You know I wouldn’t call you but these people are in serious trouble.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good. There’s a suit for you in your room.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “We leave in thirty.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just gave her a quick nod before heading toward what used to be his room. What once was his home now only held memories of fighting and lost friendships along with failure. He didn’t like it at all. Not the emptiness or the quiet.

When Steve got to his old room he wasn’t surprised to find it covered in a thin layer of dust. The suit Nat mentioned was lying on the bed. He made quick work of getting changed and heading to the jet. It wasn’t until he was seated next to Nat that he finally cracked a smile as his phone chimed.

Unknown number: I made it home. Thanks for coming with us to the park. Marvin is one happy boy. 😊

Steve quickly saves your number before sending a quick reply.

“Who’s that?” Nat says as she peers over his shoulder.

“No one.”

“Hm, I’ve never smiled like that at messages from no one.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. I met her at one of the meetings I run.”

“Are you going to ask her out?”

“No. It’s not like that, I’m just here as a friend if she needs one.”

Nat studies Steve for a moment. They had grown close even before the team fell apart but more during those two years they were on the run. She could read him like a book and he knew it.

“But you like her.” A statement not a question.

“Yeah, she’s beautiful and seems sweet. A bit shy but I think that’s because of someone in her life.”

“What did they do?”

“I’m not sure. I think she suffered some form of abuse.”

“Hm. Well if you do decide to put yourself out there remember to be gentle with her. She probably has trust issues and rightfully so.” Nat smiles at him. “It could be good for you, to have someone outside of this mess. It would be good for her to have someone that would treat her right.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Are you two done with the heart to heart back there? We’re almost at the drop off point.” Rocket asks from the pilot’s seat.

Steve and Nat both stand and head to the back of the jet. Through the mission Steve can’t stop thinking about you.

He hopes he can see you again and show you that you can trust him.

Ch 3

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@darkhairedmenrule

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

Series taglist

@sjsmith56

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made for Him VII

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: Sleepover today! I am tryna prioritise this because Halloween is already here and it is a themed sort of fic. Anyway, this chapter is kinda rough. Sorry.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

The Creator

Peter was startled when he realised. When he looked over the top of his book and realised she was gone. He sat up, nearly dropping the book entirely as he twisted in the chair and looked around. The television played the credits as the wobbly orchestra played over the columned text. He dumped the book in his seat as he stood, heart thrumming behind his ears.

The creak from overhead drew his eyes up. He huffed as he calmed, just slightly. The heavy stomp of her feet assured him she was not far, though he didn’t remember why she left. Had she said something to him? He found it hard to concentrate the longer he waited and their talk hadn’t inspired her to let him do more than his usual kisses. It was as if it had only scared her further away.

He went to the stairs against the wall and listened to the clamour from above. Curious, he tilted his head as he heard her giggling. He climbed carefully, keeping his steps light as his superhuman abilities aided in his silent ascent. He gripped the railing at the top and looked down at his white knuckles. The wood groaned in his grasp.

Sometimes, he forgot what he was. Who he used to be. A hero. He was Spider-man and here he was tiptoeing around this creature… woman. What was he so afraid of? She belonged to him. He gave her life, he gave her everything. It only felt more offensive that she should act so distant.

He continued down the hall and saw the top of her shadow as he neared the bedroom. He slowed and peered around the frame. The bed was a mess, the blanket half off and draped down to the floor as the sheet was totally stripped away. She held it around her body, swathed like a dress as she looked at herself in the mirror and turned, admiring the way she’d wrapped it. She was smiling at her reflection.

He watched her calmly, quietly. She didn’t notice him as she pulled the top tighter and tried to fluff out the tails. Her clothing was littered on the floor and the sheet drooped down her back as she tried to fix it. She was growing frustrated as the length weighed down the rest and she couldn’t get the top to hold with just a tuck. Peter let out a wispy breath as he felt the twitch in his pants.

“Where’d you go?” He said at last, spooking her so that her eyes rounded and she barely caught the sheet before it dropped entirely. It opened down her back and revealed her round ass and the curved arch of her back. She faced him with a bashful trill.

“Peter!” She clustered the sheet around her front.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked as he entered, unashamed as he felt himself bulging in his pants.

“Nothing,” she lied.

He grinned, trying to ease her, “Let me help.”

“No, I… dumb!” She proclaimed in embarrassment.

“No, it’s okay,” he neared her and reached for the sheet. He barely got a hold of it as she tried to avoid him. “Here, turn around.”

He pulled the sheet away and she clung to it, just for a moment before she obeyed. He noticed more and more how she hesitated to listen to him. But in the end, she always did. He let the sheet fall straight as he held it over her shoulders to hang in front of her. She turned to face her reflection again as he lowered it and pulled it taut to her chest.

Her nipples poked against the cotton and for a moment, he didn’t move as he took in the silhouette of her figure through the fabric. He swallowed a hum and put the end of the sheet to the middle of her back. She held her arms up as he began to wind it around her figure. She watched him as he came around her front and overlapped it, wrapping her nearly three times before securing it under her arm.

He let his fingers trail down what would be the bodice and she wiggled her shoulders and leaned to the right as she tried to see around him. He sighed and stepped aside so she could see his work. She tugged at the lower half, trying to fluff it out. He turned to check out the view from the side and she looked at him again.

“You did it,” she exclaimed and clapped, “pretty!”

He kept his lips sealed as his dick ached. If she noticed the outline of his need, she didn’t let him now. She was too focused on her makeshift gown to care. He hated that. There was always something more interesting to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said as he framed his hip and watched her.

“Oh!” She furled her fingers and looked at him guiltily, “thank you. I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” he said, dully.

“I like. Thank you.” She repeated, “you nice, Peter. Always give.”

Once more, she was looking at herself. She stepped closer and her smile wavered as she reached to trace the scars around her neck. She shrugged as if to forget them and dropped her clumsy hands.

Peter’s heart swelled and his groin knotted. It wasn’t exactly the best moment for it but when was the moment? After their talk, she was too confused to let him touch her and in the days since, she’d flitted away from him several times. And when she let him kiss her, she stopped him for some other distraction.

“Will you do something for me now?” He asked quietly, so low he wasn’t sure he actually said it.

She bounced as she broke away from the mirror and turned to him. His hand ran without thinking across the front of his pants. Her smile wavered as her eyes followed the movement. She twiddled her fingers before her and raised her brows. The dark bob she chose that day neatly trimmed her face and brought out her beauty.

“What do?” She asked in a tremor as she watched him squeeze himself through his shorts. He gasped as he couldn’t control himself, the pulsing of his dick throbbing through every part of him.

“You remember before?”

“I…” she looked to the floor, “yes, remember.”

Anger surged in him, for just a moment. How could she not want him? She owed him. After all he’d done and she acted so afraid. She was his! She was made for him.

“It hurts, again,” he went to the foot of the bed and sat, “and you love me, don’t you? You want to make me feel good?”

“Yes, love. Feel good but… why feel bad?”

“Because,” he pinched the button of his fly, “because I want you, precious. Don’t you want me?”

Her lashes flicked and she nodded frantically. She grabbed the sheet around her hips and lifted it as she came towards him. She stopped in front of him and folded her hands.

“I do what want,” she tried to smile and her lip tugged from within as she bit it.

He was annoyed. She was making him feel rotten for asking. But he needed it and he’d asked now. A yes was a yes.

He picked open his fly and pushed down the zipper. He lifted himself and rolled his pants to his thighs, just enough to pull out his aching length. He twitched as he brushed the bulging vein along his shaft and sat back down. She stood, waiting, staring at her hands.

“Here,” he stroked himself, just to feel the tingle, “get down.” He pointed to the floor, “on your knees.”

“Knees?” She wondered aloud.

“Trust me,” he said, “don’t you?”

She nodded and kept her gaze down. She moved the bottom of the sheet as she lowered herself and he held his hand out to her. She took it and he guided her closer as she settled on the floor. She wouldn’t look at what he was doing, even as he placed her hand around his dick.

“You don’t have to–” he huffed as he held her fingers tight.

“No, love,” she brought her eyes to his, “I do.”

She pumped her hand suddenly, slipping from beneath his and he spasmed in surprise. He slapped his hands onto the bed as his stomach tightened and she did it again, to his tip then back down. She gripped him tight, so tight. Fuck.

He grunted as he watched her but the methodical rhythm of her strokes irritated him, making it hard to latch onto the ultimate end. He whimpered at the sensitivity of his head as her fingers passed over it and he grabbed her wrists, stilling her. He couldn’t cum like this, not with this dry friction.

“Precious,” he purred as he leaned forward, brushing her chin with his fingers as he made her look at him, “will you try something else?”

Her eyes nearly popped out but she nodded again. “What make happy?”

“I told you, sometimes, that… we– you can—” he ran his knuckles up and down her neck and rubbed her chin again, “use your mouth.”

“Mouth…” She reached to touch her lips.

“Yes, um, on me,” he looked down as she squeezed him so tight he exclaimed, “fuck.”

“Sor–” She took her hand away as he released her, “I hurt?”

“A little,” he said, “but if you…” his heart flickered and he tilted his head and pointed to his mouth, “I did it to you, remember?”

Her eyes drifted in thought. She swallowed and shifted closer on her knees. Her lashes batted and he circled his fingers around his base, angling his tip as she watched his dick. She looked scared but she didn’t stop him. 

“Just open your mouth, precious,” he coaxed, “alright?”

She parted her lips and he moved his hand behind her head, his other still firmly around his length. He urged her down and poked past her soft lips. She squeaked in surprise but let him keep going. He nudged her slowly onto him, her wet tongue sliding down as her warmth welcomed him. He touched the back of her throat and she tried to pull away.

He held her down, gripping her head harder. She pressed her hands to the rumple of his pants across his thigh and he pulled up and back down, coating his dick with her saliva, easing his intrusion. He bobbed her up and down, her wig slipping in his grasp. He ripped it off entirely and clamped her head between both hands, feeling the ridges of her scars.

“That’s it, precious,” he groaned as his eyes rolled back and he felt his peak rising, “fuck, that’s so good.”

He felt her squirming as he pushed her head down, past the resistance of her throat. The slick noise of her around him added to the pool of heat in his core. He squeeze his thigh, sinking her nails in as she gagged around him. He moved his hand down to her jaw and cradled her face as he fucked it. He felt warmth leak onto his hand. She was crying.

He didn’t care. He couldn’t. He was going to cum. He need to cum.

[ninjahiccups]

The Songbird of Asgard

Chapter 18: ...And Lies

AO3 Masterlist Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: Usual GoW violence

With the path decided there are now consequences to face. The question is, will those consequences change the direction it goes?

Part two!

This will probably be the last thing I post for the year, I've got some things coming up that will keep me busy. But I promise I'll be back soon!

And if anyone has any feedback for how the main cast is written (mostly Kratos, he's difficult) then please feel free to share!

Freya managed to get Freyr quiet and calm enough to remain stable, the dwarves had fixed up Kratos and Atreus's equipment, and now all they had to do was decide how they would approach their counterattack. It was a strategy meeting that they were all planning on participating in, but only Kratos and Freya managed to stay focused with the blaring distraction that no one could get over.

“Do you have to sit so far away?”

“I've been here the entire time, you're the one who's far away.”

“Could you at least move a little closer? I'm doing this for you.”

“And is it my fault you chose to make this harder?”

The almost constant back and forth between Heimdall and Eivor that never ended in one of them throwing up their hands and cursing the other out was astonishing to their audience. How Eivor managed to be so patient, and the fact that Heimdall more than tolerated her back talk, all while they both seemed to enjoy themselves was far from what anyone expected to see. Especially from the scion, further proving everything Eivor had told them. 

Atreus was the most amused by their interactions, finding it absolutely hilarious that the most ornery being in all the realms could be ordered around by one of the nicest.

“Heimdall, please just lean over, I can't reach your sleeve,” Eivor sighed, letting the needle and thread fall down to her lap. She had managed to find a comfortable position to sew up the hole in the back of his sleeve, but he wasn't giving her much room to work with for the one on the front side.

He would continue to do so as well. “No.”

“Well if you won't take off your tunic —”

“I am not undressing a single layer in public.”

“And you won't lean over so I can reach, how am I supposed to fix it?”

“It can't be that hard.”

Eivor all but snarled, “It definitely is, and I'm not going to give up just to listen to you complain about this hole later.”

“Why would —”

“You will. I know you.” Heimdall only frowned at her. “Why won't you just lean over?” she asked while picking up the thread again and moving as close as she could in her chair without impeding the movement she needed to sew.

“Because it's uncomfortable.”

That answer turned everything around. Eivor put on an exaggerated pout and an overly sympathetic voice as she managed to get the needle through the fabric just once. “Awwww does it hurt?”

“Stop it.”

“Do I need to give you a big hug to make you feel better, Dall?”

Atreus, who was sitting at the opposite end of the kitchen table near Freyr, had to hold in a snicker at that, but the horned severed head on the table didn't try nearly as hard.

“Do not call me that here!” He growled under his breath, suddenly remembering it wasn't just Eivor listening to him. It was amazing how quickly he forgot where he was when he had her full attention.

“Oh, you don't like it?” A mischievous glint shined in those green eyes, one he didn't care for at all. “Then maybe I should call you —”

“Do NOT!!!!”

Eivor snickered to herself at his sudden interruption, loving that just the suggestion of uttering his other, more embarrassing nickname in the open sent him reeling. “Then lean over for me and I won't.”

“I said it's uncomfortable.”

Despite the threats, she made no progress on Heimdall's attitude or her sewing. She tried to get one more stitch in while stuck in her hindering position as she chastised, “Honestly, Heimdall, you are such a baby.”

That did it. “I am not a baby!” A line that triggered more laughing from Atreus, feeling like he was finally getting some revenge by witnessing this.

Barely holding in a giggle while still attempting to sew, Eivor mocked, “Yes you are, you're a big ol’ whiny baby.”

Regaining some of his cool when he heard even more laughter from the runt just a few paces away, he bluntly replied, “I'm in the perfect position to push you.”

“Awww is the big baby going to push me? Or is that too hard too?”

Just as he said, with Eivor seated at the very edge of the chair, crossed legs and and shifting most of her weight forward, Heimdall only needed to lift his other arm and give the slightest push to her shoulder for her to lose balance and teeter to one side, her hand shooting down to catch herself before she went too far. Heimdall smirked at the sudden shift in her, going from impish to irritated. While holding up her needle and pointing it at him she scolded, “If you do that again I will stab you in the face with this, you know I will. Now lean over!” Her hands waved at him wildly, tired of arguing over this.

Thankfully, Heimdall broke first, scoffing as he finally leaned his torso closer to her, straining his core a bit but dealing with it so they could move on.

“Thank you, was that so hard?” The exasperation in her voice was enough consolation to make Heimdall chuckle, startling the onlookers with his good mood despite his annoyance. In just a minute she sewed up the hole, making it look good as new. “See? It wouldn't have taken so long if you weren't fighting me the whole time.” Picking up the needle and thread, Eivor stood to return to Sindri's forge, sounding like a mother directing a child as she requested, “Now roll up your sleeve, I'm going to fix that armored shirt underneath.”

Already sick of the watchful company surrounding them, he refused, sounding every bit like said hypothetical child when he grumbled, “I don't want to have it fixed right now.”

“Well that's too bad because I'm doing it now. Roll up your sleeve.” 

Eivor turned and headed to the forge while Heimdall sighed and did as she asked, pausing when he heard uncontrolled chortles next to him, finding Atreus covering his mouth to stay quiet. “What is so funny?!”

“Oh, nothing!” Mimir howled, unable to hold it in any longer.

Atreus made the mistake of clarifying. “Y-you just do everything she says!”

It took every ounce of Heimdall's control not to ditch the truce and leap out of his chair to pummel the runt. “That's not true.”

Doing him no favors, Eivor called over her shoulder with a hint of warning, “It better be!”

Caught between looking horrible and giving Eivor reasons to make him look even worse than he could manage on his own, Heimdall glared at the boy and snarled, “Shut your mouth or I'll gut you!”

Kratos's eyes, which had been trained on Freya as they spoke near the front door, looked over at Heimdall, ready to warn him only once. Freya managed to save them both. “Atreus, would you mind getting more herbs for Freyr? Mimir should be able to help you pick the right ones.”

Trying not to cackle even louder at Eivor's final line, he only nodded and picked up Mimir, taking the long way around the table to avoid walking past Heimdall, who absolutely would have tripped him.

Eivor shook her head as she handed Sindri the thread for him to put away, already exhausted with the constant damage control. A break was offered when Freya quietly asked, “Eivor, a moment?” She joined up with the two leaders, worried by their lowered voices. “Kratos and I have been deciding how to handle the Einherjar. We believe it's best to inform our allies of what we're doing and have them remain at the camp, where it is the most secure. Based on my knowledge and previous attacks, I am certain I know which sections of the jungle the Aesir have made into strongholds, a large camp on one end of the river, and two smaller ones on the other.”

“But one of these areas is unfamiliar to Atreus and I,” Kratos added.

“Yes, and frankly it's more dangerous. The best plan to avoid being overwhelmed by reinforcements is to split up, but that would mean between the three of us, someone would have to go alone.”

Eivor nodded, still unsure of what they would ask of her. “All three of you are capable warriors, even Atreus for his age.”

“That is true…” Freya began, glancing at Kratos, “but we cannot agree on how to split up. I don't want Kratos or Atreus to go through a dangerous part of the jungle without a proper guide, so I have to take that route. Going there on my own would be risky — after all, I'm sure Odin wouldn't waste a chance to do some harm while I'm alone, and as comfortable as I am fighting, I only have two hands.”

“Maybe bring Atreus with you and send Kratos alone?” Eivor suggested, certain that they had already considered that.

“That was Kratos's solution, but I'm personally not fond of bringing Atreus to fight Einherjar among chaotic wildlife and poisonous plants, even by Vanaheim's standards. My solution was to send Atreus to the more familiar parts of the jungle alone, thinking he can handle it —”

“I do not trust sending him without aid now that we have Gjallarhorn. Odin may use him to force an exchange,” Kratos explained, showing no indication that his mind would change.

Freya didn't attempt to. “And that is a perspective I respect. The best compromise would be to bring a fourth party with us, and you are the best candidate. However…”

There it was. Eivor could see how their dilemma had gotten even bigger. “You don't want to leave Heimdall here with everyone else.”

Kratos paused, glancing at the scion as he watched them curiously. “Correct.”

“To be honest, he wouldn't want to stay here either. I'm positive he would rather go with me.”

“We had speculated as much. But if Freya will not allow Atrues to venture into the unexplored portion of the jungle, then I will have to go with her. And that would leave you to travel with Atreus.”

…and that would mean Atrues would be traveling with Heimdall. 

Quite a predicament indeed.

This was far from ideal, and Eivor could only hope the worst case scenario didn't play out, but she couldn't let Freya's found family suffer more than they already had. Counting on Heimdall wanting to go with her, Eivor wordlessly held out her hand to Kratos.

The old god recognized the motion, having experienced it twice before. He held out his left hand, letting Eivor take it and cast her teleportation spell on his shield again, the thread fading when she looked up at his aged eyes. “If he is in any danger, regardless of its source, I will call you.” Her quiet voice paused for a moment, pouring out her honesty and sincerity with eye contact. “I won't let you lose a loved one to save one of mine.” A painful vow from the beginning, but one that would be even worse if her call would be what led to Heimdall's end. She would use every tool in her arsenal to keep anyone from getting hurt. Even if Heimdall was furious with her for making him look bad.

Kratos stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. He worried for his son, but he knew the kind of power she had very well. A power that was quiet and caring, but stronger than the tide in a thunderstorm. 

A power that Faye wielded just as skillfully.

He gave her one shallow nod. “Very well.” He looked to Freya for her approval, which she gave with a nod of her own. Their path decided, Kratos made the final command. “Atreus. We are leaving.”

“And where are we going, exactly?” Heimdall bellowed, catching on right away. 

Atreus jogged over to the group, and once he was there Kratos instructed, “We will split up. I will go with Freya, you will stay with Eivor.”

While Atreus agreed to that, Heimdall stood and stomped over, appalled that he had been ignored. “Excuse me, are you forgetting about someone?”

“Heimdall,” Eivor scolded.

He cut her off, finding her far too precious to be thrown back into the front lines with a bunch of hoodlums. The point she made during their tumultuous reunion still applied to her. If she wanders around without him to convince All-Father she was worth forgiving she could be killed, and he wouldn't let that happen. “You can't go back there.” 

“I'm going, Heimdall.”

“You're not going.”

That fire he loved so much flared up enough to burn him, her disdain of his ordering her around like a servant only making her more resolute. “Look, you can stay or you can come with me. Whether you do or not, I am going.”

It was a standoff. Two stubborn individuals staring each other down, waiting for one of them to back off and give in. Heimdall could see right away that she wasn't going to listen to him, leaving him with limited options, none of which he cared for in the slightest. In just moments he sighed in defeat, glancing at Atreus and then Kratos before relenting. “Fine. But I'm going with you.” He hated that he would actively be taking part in this useless endeavor, but he wouldn't take another chance, not after he thought he'd lost her. Besides, this could be an opportunity for him to get Eivor away from these miscreants and bring her back to the safety of Asgard, and that was an outcome he liked.

“Then it is settled,” Kratos announced, not waiting for another disagreement. 

Atreus handed Mimir to his father, mumbling to him, “Do I have to?” Exploring the jungle? Why not. Exploring with Eivor? Sure. With Heimdall? He'd rather be eaten by a fanged flower.

Unfortunately for the boy who predicted an awful night, his plea had no effect. “For now,” Kratos whispered back, not berating his son for the rueful “great” he said under his breath. The God of War turned and started for the door without any further comments, his actions alone getting his entourage to follow. As the door closed behind them Brok called out, “None of ya go dyin’ out there now!”

The unspoken consensus among the group?

This was going to be a long night.

It took only minutes for them to start bickering.

What was most unfortunate was Atreus's increase in bravery after seeing Heimdall be so tame with Eivor.

“You don't even know where we're going, do you?”

“If you know so well then how about you lead?”

“I'd much rather let you display your incompetence for as long as possible.”

“That's a funny way of admitting you're lost.”

“Ha! I'd be more than happy to make sure you get lost and are never seen again.”

When Freya and Kratos went their own way, after they agreed to meet back at the realm gate once they were finished, they both gave Eivor a worried look, one that she dismissed with a confident nod to assure them they had nothing to be afraid of. Now she was thinking their roles should have been reversed. Out of anyone on this trip, she would gladly say she was the most miserable. “Boys, please. Can we get along for just five minutes?”

Atreus sighed, “Tell me about it.”

Heimdall, however, gave an answer that his two allies expected. “It's hard to see eye to eye with a snake.”

“No, seriously, both of you,” Eivor made them stop their tense walk down the jungle path to look at her, glaring at both of them in a way that would make even the mightiest crumble. “Heimdall, stop being a jerk. Atreus, enough with the attitude. Just move on. Please?”

The scion only sighed, but Atreus took a moment to think about this. Eivor was actually a little…scary when she got this serious. A part of him understood why not even Heimdall would argue with her for long. But he'd rather die than admit that. “Fine,” Atreus grumbled, leading them forward again. “But we're getting close—”

“Oh I know,” Heimdall interrupted solely to remind the boy that he knew exactly where the camps were and was simply choosing not to share, earning an impatient nudge from Eivor.

Rolling his eyes, Atreus finished, “Then at least try to be helpful so we can get to the next one fast?”

“On your right.”

“Huh?” Atreus yelped when an Einherjar leapt from the trees to strike them, having reflexes just quick enough to grab his bow and bat the soldier away, then preparing an arrow to shoot at the reinforcements coming at them fast.

Heimdall chuckled, “It seems not even my help can get you to perform, hm?”

Atreus grit his teeth at the comment, but chose to make ample use of the frustration rather than letting it fester, as his father taught him. At this point he openly welcomed an outlet for his need to punch Heimdall.

The boy didn't hesitate when the few members of the preemptive attack were down and made the short sprint into a clearing that the camp was settled into. Eivor moved to join him, stopping only when she felt Heimdall's hand on her arm. “Why not let him handle this? I'd rather not do something to make matters worse.”

Eivor felt her heart sink a little, seeing an implication that he had already decided on going back to Asgard at some point and expected her to follow. She was hurt by how loyal he was even without the spell over him, but she also couldn't say she didn't expect it. Spell or no spell, anyone would fall back on the only life they ever knew, needing more than a few hours to see just how distorted their perception was. It made her worry about how much harder it would hit him when it became apparent that the knowledge he had was far from the truth, how he would handle learning just how extreme his ignorance was. For a brief moment she could only wonder how she would tell him just how little he knew, or how to deliver the cold reality of the magic chains he'd been wearing for so long. If there weren't Einherjar and a young god fighting nearby she would have had to take a breather to dismiss the despair the thought of his devastation brought her.

Unfortunately, the truth would have to wait. 

Shelving her own feelings to pay more attention to her promise to Kratos, focusing on keeping the boy in their company safe. Tearing her arm free, Eivor found a way to get Heimdall to think just a bit deeper about his decision to sit out as she backed off to head into the fray. “That's a shame. It's been a while since we had some fun like this, but I guess I'll have that with Atreus instead.”

The playful lilt to her taunt and the smirk she gave him as she joined the jötun told him everything he needed to know. Using his jealousy and pride to get him to join in this useless charade. No, he wouldn't let it get to him.

He watched for a bit, telling himself that he was above the rebellion he was witnessing, but seeing Eivor in action, with all of her grace and beauty and skill, it reminded him of those days they spent exploring together, making bets and doing everything they could to one up the other. When was the last time they got to do that? Not since Eivor had finished looking for the artifact, actually, and that left him with more confusion than he ever noticed. If he and Eivor worked so well together and enjoyed being on a team, why wouldn't All-Father let them do it more often? Why force him to do things with people he hated? Did he never earn a single task he could do with the one person he liked?

He had earned that at least, and that was something he wouldn't deny.

It was a question he pushed aside, setting it with all the other strange ideas that had crossed his mind since this mess began. That also helped him decide that he, in fact, was owed some excitement with the one person he cared about, even if the runt was there to dampen the experience, and that was something he would have. 

Besides, they were just Einherjar. It's not like they wouldn't come back. He'd thrown them around for decades now, it was surely something that could be forgiven.

Eventually he did join in, casually slicing through the Einherjar until he caught up with Eivor, who raised an eyebrow at him and looked too pleased for his liking. All he could say was, “I don't want to hear it.”

His focus was on remaining close to Eivor, ensuring none of the stupid brutes got close enough to her, but she made it increasingly difficult as she kept following Atreus, who bounded and hopped across the field, having no reservations and no fear of the hardened warriors, knocking them over left and right, barely needing any support from either of the capable gods near him. It caught Heimdall's eye, seeing that Atreus was more skilled than he had assumed in Asgard, but quickly brushed it off. He sincerely thought the half-breed would have to be bailed out at least three times before they were done with the first camp alone. At least that was a pleasant surprise.

Eivor caught his glances, not wasting the perfect opportunity to poke at him. “Heimdall, are you…” a pause while she momentarily took Gna's shroud and shoved an Einherjar with a huge hammer away like he was wearing paper rather than heavy armor, “dare I say, impressed with Atreus?”

Heimdall scoffed while he sidestepped and tripped another enemy that clumsily swung at him. “Oh look, he isn't dead yet. I'm sooo impressed.” 

Thick with sarcasm, but the fact that he didn't refute her claim was answer enough. “I knoooow! It's almost incredible how well people can do when you aren't being an ass to them!” She laughed at his annoyed frown as one of her barriers flew out and smashed into another captain, grinning like they were at a celebration rather than fighting amongst the mud and blood surrounding them. Heimdall found himself smiling ear to ear, having missed the sight of her so much, and relishing in her beautiful display of magic. It was welcome, it was enchanting, it was… fun. A kind of fun he wished he was allowed to have more than once. Perhaps if he weren't so busy at the moment he would have noticed the flicker of resentment the thought brought out.

Atreus had to regain his composure when he took a cautious gander at Heimdall, making sure he wasn't doing anything suspicious amongst the commotion. Seeing Heimdall smiling, and in a way that wasn't full of mockery or cruelty or ire of some kind, only containing the joy one would see in every other smile, was so foreign that he had to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating. It was strange to see the watchman enjoying himself without putting down another. It was almost like he was human.

A ball of bifröst and a shattering of golden light later, there was only one Einherjar left, and it was finished by Atreus shooting an arrow to its face as he pinned it down with a foot to the chest. “Are you okay?” Eivor asked as the boy caught his breath, forcing himself not to look at Heimdall to see if he still looked like a normal person.

Atreus checked his surroundings, remaining alert until he was certain there was no more danger and slung his bow back over his shoulder. “Yeah, I'm good. I think that's all of them.”

Of course, Heimdall had to take a jab at him for making an obvious statement. “Really? I hadn't noticed.”

“You didn't? Guess that foresight of yours isn't as good as you think it is,” Atreus shot right back, quieting whatever part of him thought Heimdall might actually be able to feel any inkling of happiness.

“Don't start,” Eivor snapped before Heimdall could even open his mouth to fight back. “Don't start again, you guys were doing so well.”

“We weren't even talking,” Atreus shrugged with disbelief.

“Exactly. You two do so much better when you just. Don't. Talk. To each other.”

“I'm okay with that, honestly,” Atreus said, ignoring the glower Heimdall threw his way. Though he had to agree. He would much prefer if the kid would be quiet. Or dead. Either worked for him. 

Just like the first round, Atreus led them through the jungle until they came across the next camp, this one taking a bit longer to track down, thanks to Heimdall's unwillingness to give him any clue as to exactly where it was. When he did manage to find it he could see that this fight wouldn't be quite as straightforward. The second camp was placed around a trio of enormous trees in the center of a clearing, the one in the center of the cluster taller than a mountain, the other two about half its size. They were surrounded by elevated rock faces, the camp structures placed in between the more reasonably sized plant life, aside from the one cliff that had a trickling waterfall flowing down into a tiny pond that was barely large enough to allow a bath. With such a major site, it took the Einherjar lookouts no time to spot them. As if it was a routine, Atreus went right to work, Eivor kept a close eye on him, and Heimdall begrudgingly let Atreus have the lead while he watched Eivor, much more concerned about her than anyone else. 

Just like that, it was over. It felt too easy.

With the area having so much cover Atreus, as his father would put it, took the necessary time to double check the area, climbing across the rocks and keeping an eye out for any trace of leftover Einherjar waiting for them to turn their backs, not trusting Heimdall when he claimed the coast was clear. As much as he hated to prove him right, Heimdall wasn't lying and he found no signs of any more adversaries. 

Eivor saw Atreus walking back to the edge of the stone, brushing past some shrub branches on his way. “Find anything?”

Atreus sneered at Heimdall for a moment, seeing his arrogant smirk. “Yeah, I think we're done.” He stepped up to the edge, preparing to jump down and regroup. “Now we just —” His sentence was cut off when sharp black talons grabbed him by the belt and yanked him backwards, making him yelp as he was thrown into the trees and practically disappeared. 

Eivor wanted to spin back to Heimdall and ask if he didn't tell Atreus something was still out there on purpose, or if he didn't see that coming either. The words would never come out, her own shocked shriek escaping her when a blue and purple bifröst chain wrapped around her and heaved her behind Heimdall. The scion turned to follow her, growling in rage that whoever was left deliberately attacked her, and because he somehow had missed two unseen attacks. He was even more appalled to find just a simple Einherjar captain, wearing completely average armor with eyes shining through the openings of his helmet, holding the other end of the bifröst chain. Heimdall couldn't keep up the fury at the sight of such a stupid and easy opponent and laughed, both in disbelief and offense. “Are you serious? You have the nerve to—”

He was cut off when a shard of bifröst shaped like a blade cloaked in sickly green magic grew between two links in the chain that were positioned over Eivor's chest. The captain hauled her closer, the blade coming far too close to her skin as she was dragged to his side to sit on the ground at his feet. It wasn't the blade or the rough treatment that made him freeze, however. It was the captain's voice that sounded as his hand shouted out a command for Heimdall to stop.

“Hold on just a minute, Heimdall!”

That voice. Spoken as if he wasn't wearing a helmet, like the armor wasn't even real.

He knew that voice. One he had obeyed every single day of his life.

“A-All-Father…?”

As confirmation a green crystal raven flew across the captain's face, its translucent body giving Heimdall a peek behind the cloak to see a much older visage with only one eye, perfectly framed by the three dark tree trunks behind him.

Heimdall felt everything in his body turn to ice. He stopped, stiff as stone that was as old as time itself, unable to even move a fraction of an inch. There he was, committing the worst crime and Aesir could ever carry out, and he had been caught red-handed. He couldn't even think straight, had no way to decide where to even begin explaining how he ended up here or how long he should beg for forgiveness.

In the end he could only remain silent and listen as the All-Father spoke to him as Eivor stared at Heimdall, praying he would look at her again so she could tell him not to listen. “You'll have to forgive the disguise,” Odin chuckled casually, as if he wasn't holding a goddess's life in his hands. “As you know, my face isn't a welcome one in these parts.” Odin paused, pacing just a few steps at a time as he lowered his hand. “I must say…I'm disappointed.”

It hurt. That word hurt Heimdall worse than any wound could, feeling his entire body grow heavier as if he was collapsing into his own chest. His throat was dry and his eyes were locked on the god he owed his life to — the one who had raised him as his own even though he had an entire realm to lead. Eivor was subtly shaking her head in hopes that the movement would get his attention, knowing exactly how to ensure Odin didn't get his way.

“After all this time, after so many years of good service, dedication, and loyalty for your people and the greater good… this is where you end up?” The sharp words stung like burning needles stabbing into every pore on his skin, singing every inch of his body and leaving him too paralyzed to put the flames out. His instinctive reaction was to look at Eivor for comfort. She was the only thing that managed to thaw out the layer of ice that had taken over his being when she mouthed a message to him over and over.

“Read him.”

An odd request given that she knew he couldn't read Odin, and even if he could he was far too ashamed of himself to look the All-Father in the eyes, unworthy of such an honor. Which made Odin's response even more odd. After Heimdall looked down at Eivor for too long, he pulled on the chain around her, bringing that ethereal dagger over her a little closer to her chest, making her silent messages stop all together. Odin knew Heimdall had no power against such a mighty being like himself, so why would he try to silence her? Heimdall couldn't say he thought about it long enough, too trapped by the sheer disdain Odin held in both his demeanor and his words.

Odin continued as if he hadn't made a vague threat to his prisoner. “You gave all of that up, for what? A pretty face?” He gestured to Eivor with an incredulous laugh, shaking his head in a way that made Heimdall's stomach tie itself into knots. “Anything you have to say?”

Many things, but none of them were willing to come out. He surprised himself with one restrained thought relating to his comment about Eivor. Referring to her as nothing more than a pretty face? To him it was an insult of the highest caliber, looking past all of the things about her that made her so much better than everyone else, traits that Odin clearly recognized considering he was the one who brought her to Asgard in the first place. As that point came to mind, he was reminded of other times when Odin said something unfavorable about Eivor, all of which he had just…ignored. But this time was different. This time he felt the anger rising and staying there like it never had before, the fear being the only thing that got him to bury it for the time being.

At his silence Odin sighed, throwing up a hand only to let it fall back down and slap his side, but it sounded and felt forced. Rehearsed. And Eivor believed it was all to emphasize what he chose to say next. A master puppeteer completely in his element for the performance. “Y'know, I thought I finally got one. I thought you were the only one I got.”

Heimdall furrowed his brow while his hands shook, terrified of what he would say. The one good servant? The one decent god? The one reliable ally? Every single one would be a devastating status to lose. 

He could only brace himself.

“I thought you were the only one of mine who turned out right.”

Not even a bug made a sound.

The entire jungle seemed to fade into a lifeless wasteland when Heimdall and Eivor took in that phrase, the latter feeling an uncontrollable rage consume her at the Aesir king's blatant manipulation. Heimdall's eyes drifted to and fro, the realization dawning on him in a way that only made him even more confused and dumbfounded, regaining control when Odin spoke again. “Yes, before you ask. That means exactly what you think it means.”

His entire body shivered. 

All-Father was… his real father?

And he never knew? Was never told?

Heimdall couldn't make sense of it. It was such a massive secret, a huge part of his identity that was kept from him, but for what? And why bring it up now, after all this time?

Eivor could put it together right away. Heimdall and his foresight were invaluable to Odin, and with something like that he wanted complete control and absolute loyalty, and he would be willing to sink to the lowest depths to get it. To him, shared blood was not enough of a guarantee. Children would always rebel, breaking away from their parent's authority and rules eventually as they grow into their own person, regardless of how close they are to their parents. And that was not the kind of relationship Odin wanted. That was too risky. But to be a savior? To be indebted to a figure that could never be pleased? That was how he would get the devotion he wanted, far more than he could get by facing the obligations of a parent. He could have fulfilled them and earned such a loyal son. But no. That was too hard. He wanted the easy way out, no matter who got hurt or what the consequences were, so long as he got what he wanted in the end.

It was sickening.

Heimdall slowly shook his head, unable to spit out any sound. He had no words. How was he supposed to respond when Odin was still the one he admired for his entire life? While he still had Eivor chained and threatened right in front of him. Two very different extremes all at once, and he somehow had to figure out how both could coexist with a life on the line and a king waiting for answers.

Again, the old Aesir waved a hand like it was nothing, chortling like it was funny to him. The dryness to it made Heimdall flinch. “I know, definitely not a good time to bring it up, but believe me, it was for your own good. Your mothers, whoo, they were something else, I tell ya. If you knew ‘em you'd be grateful you were spared.”

…”them?” 

That sentence alone brought up so many more questions. 

“But we can talk more about that later, after all this is settled, eh?” The All-Father could feel Eivor sneering at him with blazing hatred, wanting so badly to grind him into plant food, but he couldn't care less. She was basically irrelevant to him. “Now, Heimdall, you know me. I understand that we all make mistakes. I understand that even you can make mistakes. I get it, really.”

Heimdal found himself blown away by how gentle Odin was, sounding like he was consoling his servant rather than reprimanding him. All of his past errors were met with harsh criticism and cold unforgiveness with a side of higher expectations that he always felt compelled to meet, even if it would cost him his time, sanity, life, or all three. A part of him was actually relieved and grateful that he was met with such a kind confrontation. Another was still too confused to understand why the change was so sudden. This was his worst crime yet, and this was the one he hadn't been ridiculed for?

Once more he looked down at Eivor for some balance of support, finding her mouthing the phrase even more urgently.

“READ HIM.”

Odin didn't miss her second attempt, ripping the chain back even harder and making the blade graze her chest, the cold magic left behind that coated the burning skin like lava.

“So I'll cut you a deal.”

Heimdall's eyes were watching the tiny gash on Eivor, his instincts, for the first time in his life, speaking up to say that  the wound wasn't an accident. It was deliberate. A message. 

Don't look at her, don't listen to her, or else. 

For her safety, he looked back at Odin, listening carefully and praying his instincts were mistaken.

“You know I don't make these kinds of agreements with just anybody, but in return for all the good you've done for Asgard I can make an exception.” Odin raised his hands, lifting the chain just a little as he opened his free hand as if he was releasing something. “I'll let all this go. All of it, gone. Like it never happened. You can come back home, go back to your duties, get the life you had back, and no one will ever know about this blunder.”

Heimdall heard that statement and felt the temptation of his words, especially when Odin reminded him that all of this was a giant mistake. Put all this behind him, save his position, his status, and his reputation? How could he refuse such an outstanding gift? But he felt it again. His instincts, yelling at him to keep a discreet eye on Eivor. He glanced down at her, briefly to keep her from being cut again, only looking in her eyes for short moments to see what she wanted to say without her having to move a muscle. 

It was the same message.

“Read him.”

“This one, on the other hand,” Odin said, words growing more stern as he jostled the chain in his hand, the ghostly whooshing sound of them making his spine tremble, “won't be coming back. But…I'll let her go, scott free. I'll pretend she didn't cause this whole kerfuffle.”

Heimdall shook his head, trying to look stunned to avoid drawing attention but glancing at Eivor halfway through as a means to give her an answer. “I can't,” the action said silently.

“You can.”

What made her think that?

“On one condition.”

Heimdall winced at the commanding tone Odin adopted, watching as his hand reached out to him, palm up. He spoke only one word. 

“Gjallarhorn.”

A single phrase that made his entire being nearly shrivel up into dust on the spot. To give up Gjallarhorn was to give up his title, his destiny, his symbol of achievement and prestige. To lose that meant he had lost everything.

Except Eivor.

Which was the only reason he was willing to do it. A possibility that the blue eyes witnessing the exchange were afraid of. And waiting for.

“Don't give me that look, I promise it's not because of you,” Odin reassured, though Heimdall doubted the sincerity before he could help it. “With everything that's happened and all the people who want it  I just think it's best to keep it locked up somewhere until it's time to use it. And hope it ends up staying there forever.” His voice grew lighter and softer, more comforting than commanding. “And that's it. Do that and you can come home. You'll be welcome with open arms. And Eivor can live. That's a lot better than letting her be on the run, right? That's a lot more than she'll get if she's caught by noble Aesir, like the Valkyries, don't you think?”

Yes, it was. If he had to choose between being with Eivor or her being alive, he would, despite how miserable it would be, he would rather not wait for her to die. It was far from an outcome he wanted but was the best he could get. Did he even have another option?

He couldn't see one.

And he would rather live without Eivor and his titles than put her through more pain than he already had.

That stung, the thought of everything he'd done to her. Far more than anything Odin's disapproval did to him.

Perhaps All-Father was right…He had already seen so many times that he didn't deserve her. Maybe he should give her up to make her happy. And safe. Maybe All-Father's wisdom was guiding him, like it always did. Maybe it would be better this way…

“You're smart enough to know the right choice,” Odin added, making himself very sweet and kind as he used one last comment to drive it home. “You really are, son.”

Unfortunately, it worked. Heimdall was leaning more towards returning to his captor rather than running away from him.

Eivor's teeth grinded together, her jaw cramping from the amount of pressure they applied. He knew exactly what he was doing. Saving all of the confessions and endearments until it would serve him the most, using it all to mask that he was only serving himself. She really had never been more disgusted. 

She wouldn't let him get away with it. Even if it cost her life.

Slowly, mind still in shambles from Odin's final word ringing in his head, Heimdall reached behind him to take Gjallarhorn off of his belt. To give Odin what he asked for, as he always did. Going back to who he used to be before her. Letting it all go for the sake of comfortable familiarity.

But it just…it just wasn't fair.

As childish as it sounded, he was adamant about that. His entire life selflessly spent in service, never asking for anything in return, and this was all All-Father could do for him? 

And All-Father would ask him to go back to that service knowing it would destroy him? Then what was even the point of taking him back?

It didn't feel right. Something just wasn't right.

His eyes went to Eivor again, wanting so badly to hear her speak and make this nightmare end, only finding one phrase in her mind.

“Trust me.”

Trust her. 

He did trust her, always and forever. She never made him wonder. 

But, after all this, Odin had given him reason to doubt.

With that, it was much easier to choose who to listen to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and slowing his shaky arm as it brought Gjallarhorn around to his front, ears ringing and eyes hazy, Heimdall finally looked up at Odin, straight into those disguised eyes. 

It was shocking enough to feel anything, but he did. Normally whenever he looked Odin in the eyes he would see nothing, a blank slate of nonexistence, as if his foresight couldn't see anything at all. This time there was something there, but not a mind. A wall, blocking him, very much like the barrier he felt when he first met Eivor, forbidding him from seeing what was inside. But he had to get through. He wanted to see if everything Odin had revealed was true despite how horrifying it was to breach such a sacred place. As Gjallarhorn gradually floated into Odin's view and he took his time reaching forward, he took a closer look at this wall blocking his sight. He had spent years chipping away at Eivor's, her wall one of stone and metal that he had yet to crack. Odin's was much weaker by comparison, like old wood fencing ready to fall apart in the wind, and it was almost too easy to push over. Then there it was.

He could see into the mind of the untouchable All-Father.

And the ice in his veins only thickened at what he found.

Every word was true. Heimdall could see that Odin's confession was nothing but the truth. 

Odin was his father.

But he didn't see that truth from fondness, pride, or even resentment.

He found it through his disgust. 

Disgust for his own kin. Disgust that his once dependable son had been just as unreliable as his others, forcing him to take matters into his own hands. Disgust that made him hungry for punishment.

Heimdall could also see that. The punishment he was hiding.

Odin had no intention of keeping his word.

As soon as Gjallarhorn was in his hands, he would yank on the bifröst chain and plunge that magic knife into Eivor's chest to kill her, forcing Heimdall to watch as the life left her.

He was lying.

He lied.

Just like everyone else.

All-Father—

No, Odin was as fake and selfish as everyone else.

And he had… worshiped him.

Just like that so many lies had come to light all at once, from the ones Eivor had begged him to see for years to the ones he had thought of since he reunited with her, they were all just proof.

Proof that he had been used.

Pure rage. Pure hatred for the ignominy he would forever face for never seeing what others could so easily. The fury melted all the fearful ice in him while his hand stopped in front of him, fingers gripping Gjallarhorn like he wanted to shatter it, teeth bared in a deadly snarl and brow morphing to match the intense emotion in him as he growled out his first words since Odin revealed himself.

“You're lying!”

Despite her precarious position, Eivor smiled, wishing Heimdall was in a headspace to see how proud she was of him. Proud that he was finally reclaiming his freedom.

Odin nearly gasped, taken aback and stunned by the fact that Heimdall was able to break through the precautionary magic in seconds, meeting the rebellion he had done everything he could to prevent — and he was far from pleased. Dropping any respect and decorum, Odin's extended hand curled back as he barked, “You had your chance!” and he gripped the chain harder, ready to pull with all his might.

Heimdall nearly dropped Gjallarhorn and left it abandoned as he shouted, “No!” and raced for Eivor, but even he wasn't fast enough to stop such a simple motion.

But the blue eyes watching had anticipated as much, and they were prepared.

A red wolf sprung from behind the enormous trees and charged right at the disguised Aesir's arm, biting through the fake armor and into the arm holding the bifröst chain. Odin screeched, but in his attempt to shake the wolf off he still pulled on the chain, and Eivor cried out when the blade struck her before it disappeared from Odin's grasp.

Heimdall felt his body fail to function at the sound, only shaken out of the state when he saw Eivor crawl away from Odin, still alive. Odin managed to shake the wolf off, flinging it across the clearing and into one of the stone walls, making the wolf fade and forcing Atreus to take back his true form with a grunt. Eivor didn't hesitate to act, standing just long enough to shuffle away and reach an arm towards one of the huge trees, using her new skills from Freya's lesson to make a gold copy of one of them and send it plummeting straight down to Odin, the All-Father having to summon his ravens to escape the collision in time. Once he was gone and the tree exploded into glittering gold dust, Eivor collapsed. Heimdall raced to her, thinking that she had to be alright if she could still manage such incredible magic, turning her onto her back to see what her other hand was clutching. 

His heart nearly stopped when he saw the blood.

And he could have sworn it did when he saw the wound oozing bifröst and an awful shade of green light. 

His entire world — or what was left of it — fell apart when he heard her wheeze and gasp, her breathing strained like she was being strangled. “Eivor? Eivor!” He cried, looking down at her and panicking when all she could do was rasp in return. He immediately went to dispel the bifröst seeping from her wound, recoiling when the insufferable burning licked at his fingers and made them retreat. Unlike any other bifröst, this seemed to be beyond his influence.

He was powerless to help.

Atreus ran over to them to try to heal her himself, and Heimdall let him, but he had the same reaction as Heimdall and groaned at the icy sting on his hands. Before either of them could get a word out, there was shouting coming from all around. More Einherjar were coming out of the trees. 

Heimdall was still stuck in place, recoiling at Eivor's raspy breathing and wet, uncontrollable coughing, despising how useless he was when she could have been dying in his arms. It was left to Atreus to be the leader. Drawing his bow, he demanded, “Pick her up and run, I'll hold them off!”

The former scion stared at him, the very idea of fleeing beyond his comprehension. He was an Aesir, he would never —

Then again, how would he know what he was?

The Einherjar were approaching fast. “Just go! Go!” Atrues urged, summoning a pack of spectral wolves to help him fend off the encroaching enemies. Heimdall sucked up his ego and picked Eivor up, being as careful as he could be while running at full speed. 

Utter chaos. He ducked under branches, dodged poison from flowers, leapt over swords and tripped Einherjar at almost every step, using all of his foresight and reflexes to keep them from stopping him. He knew they would go for her if he was caught, and he would not let them touch her.

He would not give up the only thing he had left.

The gut wrenching thought was shoved aside when the red wolf appeared, tackling an Einherjar to the ground and trampling over them to catch up with Heimdall, transforming back to himself to instruct, “Down here,” while leading them through the forest and shooting enemies that tried to stop them. They came to the river, where there was a large stone in the middle to help them cross, but just before they could jump to it a ball of fire landed right on it, setting all the plants that made a home on top of it ablaze. Atreus turned around to see the Einherjar not far behind, and back at the flaming bridge they couldn't cross, trying to come up with any way to get to the other side that was faster than swimming. A clever idea came to him, one that Heimdall would detest but he didn't care if he got yelled at. “You're fast enough to run across something that's moving, right?”

Heimdall ripped his eyes away from Eivor to scoff at the Wolf. “Of course. Why?” Atreus didn't give him an answer, but he sensed what he was going to do and was appalled by the plan. “Are you kidding me?”

Atreus refused to answer again, shooting an arrow through the flames and into the thick trunk of a tree across the river, the flame hooked on its purple magic once it reached its target. He then drew another arrow and infused it with more sigil magic before hitting the same spot. The flame on the first arrow violently flared up and destroyed the base of the tree, knocking it into the river and sending it rushing down the water towards them. “Hurry!” Atreus said, shooting more arrows at the Einherjar just paces away from them. Heimdall sighed at how unbelievable the idea was, slowing down time at the perfect moment to sprint across the tree as it flowed past and make it to the other side, leaving Atreus alone.

The jötun proved to be resourceful again, using his bow to shoot a line high into another tree and swing across the river, the jump so rushed that he slipped and nearly fell into the water when he landed. Now that they made it across and the only way for anyone to follow them was in flames, the persistent Einherjar shouted at them and headed upstream, looking for another way to get to them.

With imminent danger away for a moment, Heimdall couldn't hold in his irritation. “Are you insane?!”

Atreus, to Heimdall's annoyance, only shrugged and replied, “Have you seen my father?”

Eivor let out a thick cough that left her wheezing and gasping even more, drawing Heimdall's attention and rekindling his hopeless desire to do something. Atreus leaned in and took a closer look at the wound, seeing that the magic oozing from it had only grown into a darker green. “That…doesn't look good.” He instantly regretted the words, waiting for Heimdall to chew him out for stating the obvious, but he received nothing. In fact, Heimdall didn't even seem to hear him. He just stared at Eivor, short of breath and pain evident on his face.

Atreus had never seen him so…scared. Really, he had never seen Heimdall show so much of any emotion at all. 

He had to help. Rivalry or not, Heimdall needed help.

“This way, we can take her to Freyr's camp,” Atreus suggested, already starting towards their destination.

A terrible idea, Heimdall told himself, but he didn't have much of a choice. He would take anything to save her. It thankfully wasn't far from them, and in minutes Atreus pushed open the gates to the camp and called out for help. “Guys! Are you here?!”

Hildisvíni was the first to reply, the two elves and Lúnda emerging with him. “Atreus?” All of them stiffened when they saw who was behind him, drawing their weapons and pointing them directly at the Aesir that had cost them their safety and their friends.

The Wolf held up his hands and frantically waved at them, “Wait wait wait! It's okay!” He stepped aside, showing them what Heimdall was carrying. “Eivor's hurt!”

The crowd paused, looking at each other cautiously. Hildisvíni eventually made a decision, waving his bow down towards the fire and saying, “Put her down here.” Atreus mumbled his gratitude while Heimdall rushed to put Eivor down, resting her back on one of the logs by the fire. Hildisvíni slowly put his bow down as he looked at Eivor, finding the sight recognizable. “More Aesir were here?” he asked, kneeling down to examine the magical wound, listening carefully to her strained breathing.

“You know it?”

“I haven't seen it since the war…” Hildisvíni trailed off, magic emanating from his hands while he reached out to her, retracting his hand with a hiss when he felt the same pain Atreus and Heimdall experienced. “But this is different. Corrupted, somehow.”

Heimdall didn't care for his long explanations and stories. “Can you fix it?!”

“I'm not sure.”

Atreus listened to the jungle for just a second before asking, “Could Freya fix it?”

“I'm sure she would have a solution.”

Standing up and listening to nature for a few more moments, Atreus was already backing away when he said, “The animals are quiet around where Father and Freya were, so they have to be done. I'm gonna go get them!” Before anyone could stop him, he was off, shifting into a wolf to move as fast as he could.

Hildisvíni didn't sit around, getting up and making use of the team he had. “Gather our medicine, make sure Freya will have everything she needs.” 

The group made themselves busy, leaving Heimdall to stare at Eivor on his own, taking in her shallow and aching breaths, how pale she was, feeling the loathing for his own uselessness settling in. Kneeling down next to her, taking her hand in his own and using his other to brush the sweat soaked hair from her forehead was not enough for him, not enough to make him think he was doing what she needed from him. It was agonizing to just watch and listen to her struggle, his only alternative to marinate in the lies, the shock, the fear, the cold reality he had been doused in. To just sit there, doing absolutely nothing as the only thing that hadn't abandoned him or lied to him slipping away right in front of him while he watched, practically blind and deaf with no way of making any of it stop…

He'd paraded his superiority around his entire life. He had sworn none could surpass him, none could outdo him. But now?

He'd never felt more worthless.

“H-Hei—!” She tried to call out for him, her choking snapping him out of the searing pain. “Eivor? Please, tell me what to do, anything!”

It wasn't a plea he uttered quietly, and all the onlookers stopped and observed in awe, trying to figure out if this was the same watchman that had attacked them just days ago. 

In a way, he wasn't.

He paid them no mind, his undivided attention on his one and only Songbird while she sputtered and coughed in his arms. “I…it…” another wet heavy cough that was strong enough to make her shake. “H-hurts…”

Never had he wished to be harmed, only boasting that he never could be, but now he wished could be in her stead. To see her so weak that she could hardly express her pain tore him apart from the inside out. 

Then it got worse. There was a commotion in the background, one just loud enough for the entire camp to catch, but he heard it clearly. It sounded like a fight, one that came from the direction Freya and Kratos were supposed to be.

He nearly crumbled at the hopelessness. If they were stalled long enough and didn't make it back in time he would lose everything. If he lost everything he ever loved and cared for in a matter of hours, then what reason would he even have to live? 

Heimdall shook his head and clenched his jaw as he watched tears fall down Eivor's cheeks, his will to watch this happen slipping farther and farther down into the earth with every moment. He couldn't stand looking at her and did the only thing he could, pulling her in close and resting his cheek on her head, hoping at least this was enough to keep her conscious. “I know, just…just hold on. Please.” 

Just sitting there, his skin burning with every wheeze he heard and cringing at every cough that tore through her, one phrase came to his mind from earlier that night.

“So that my last moments are with you.”

Eivor's alternative to having him at her side. All he could think about was how much he wanted that too, how much he would give to have her until his last moments and make her smile the last thing he ever saw. Now, with the very opposite happening, the despair was swallowing him as he envisioned Freya getting there too late, Eivor lost to him while he did nothing, left completely alone with nothing and no one to his name. 

He couldn't. He just couldn't do it.

So he said it again. Something he said only once, years ago, but was never forgotten by either of them.

“Please don't leave me.”

He couldn't find it in himself to care at all about his home or himself. He could only beg internally. 

Just not her. Anything but her.

The caw of a bird soared over the camp, a falcon hovering above the ground near Lúnda's shop until the magic around it flared up into smoke and revealed Freya, who Heimdall was glad to see for the first time since they met. “Where is she?” she asked Hildisvíni, not quite seeing Heimdall and Eivor behind the fire. The advisor pointed them out and explained what he found, the Vanir queen gasping, “By the gods…Get me a mixture of Shaman's Wicker and Lilac Feather immediately.” Freya dashed to her patient and kneeled down at Eivor's other side. “What ha—” She froze, concern fading and outrage taking over as she saw the magic emanating from the wound. She snapped at Heimdall, “Odin was here?! That bastard has the nerve to show his face —” Freya took a deep breath, quieting her wrath as Heimdall only nodded.

Hildisvíni returned with a bowl of powder that glowed a subtle lavender color. “What has he done with this spell?”

Freya bitterly spat, “Proven that I should never have taught him anything about my magic.” She dipped her fingers in the powder to coat her skin, then raised her hands over the gash and directed the purple powder into the ghastly magic.

“And where are Kratos and Atreus? Do they need help?”

“Getting rid of the Einherjar, they shouldn't be long.”

“Can you help her?” Heimdall asked impatiently, the dust not having enough of an immediate effect to make him feel any better.

“I can,” Freya replied, though her brow gave away the amount of thinking she had to do to accomplish her goal. “But we will need something stronger.” Pointing to each individual as she spoke, Freya gave orders to every person she had available. “Hildisvíni, gather Lamb's Cress from our supply. Lúnda, harvest whatever Albino Thistle we have. Byggvir, Beyla, get a handful of the Thornnuts from the tree outside of camp.” In a gentler tone, she turned to the only person who hadn't moved. “Heimdall, see those vines with the large leaves next to Lúnda's shop? Bring me three of them, no wider than your palm.”

He couldn't find it in himself to be irritated by being bossed around, instead getting up and doing as she asked right away. Another action that drew attention that he didn't bother to address. With shaky hands he inspected the leaves by the shop, picking three suitable ones as quickly as he could while his mind was moving too fast for him to comprehend, then turning to head back to Freya. There was an old spear with a freshly polished head resting against the shop wall, giving him a split second to see his reflection in the corner of his eye.

Blue?

Why did he see blue?

Unable to contain the curiosity, he leaned in a bit closer to the shiny metal. He could see it much clearer now. The blue was mixed in with the violets in his eyes. In fact they weren't just pink now, there were more swirling colors than he'd ever seen. 

They were different.

He was different.

How much worse could the night get?

That wasn't important right now. Heimdall hurried back to Freya, handing her the leaves before reclaiming his seat next to Eivor, squirming as her wheezing entered his ears again. With a few more ingredients mixed into her bowl of powder, Freya dipped her hands in again, the magic flowing from her fingers an orange color this time, and thankfully getting Eivor to breathe just a little deeper than she could before. Feeling her weakly rest her head on his chest while she closed her eyes was almost too much for him. 

“He was interrupted mid strike?” Freya asked Heimdall, who didn't even acknowledge her, too busy trying to keep himself from breaking down in front of everyone. “Well, whatever you did, it saved her life.” 

Now he looked up. 

“Had it been just an inch more to the right it would have struck her heart; a fatal wound. She's very lucky to have at most a punctured lung.”

Freya thought nothing of his thoughtful look as he stared down at Eivor again, but on the inside Heimdall's soul was only shattering more.

That runt…saved her. 

While he was too gobsmacked to act quickly enough to do it himself, the half-bre— 

Atreus saved her life.

Before a voice in the back of his mind could convince him to be grateful the Wolf himself returned with his father in tow, the boy reaching Freya and looking at what she was doing closely. “Can you help her?”

The queen nodded, but looked at Heimdall as she said, “Yes. But it will not be easy.” She let the lights drifting from her hands disappear, satisfied with the amount of magic giving her room to make her extraction possible. Leaning in a little to address Eivor, who needed whatever strength she had left to look up, did her best to listen as Freya gave her a very serious run down. “Eivor, I'm going to dispel the curse now, but I have to warn you. It will hurt. A lot. Are you ready?”

Eivor gave a weak nod, not having the energy to tell her to just get on with it and make this unbearable pain stop.

With a grim expression, Freya sat back again, making Heimdall's eyes widen when she chillingly said, “Kratos, hold her down. Don't let her move.” While the silent god kneeled behind Eivor and took hold of her shoulders, Freya continued, “Atreus, stay right here and watch carefully, I'm going to have you help me so we can do this as fast as possible. Heimdall…” 

The lull in her instructions brought another overwhelming wave of shame. He was still completely useless, he thought, but was completely unaware that Freya was only thrown off by just how scared the watchman looked.

“Keep her comfortable,” Freya finally said, her face softening as she added in a much more soothing whisper, “She will be fine.”

If she wouldn't be alright he would tell Kratos to finish what they started hours ago.

Concentrating on the gruesome magic in Eivor’s chest, Freya reached towards it, her fingertips just beyond the green miasma before she uttered an ancient word, pulling her hands back on the second syllable.

It was then that Heimdall regretted every single thing he'd ever done that led up to this exact moment. 

Eivor screamed, the pain of the cursed magic being wrenched from her body feeling like her entire rib cage was being pulled out with flaming ice, wanting so badly to lurch forward and curl up into a ball to keep all of the horrible sensations away, but Kratos easily held her in place. The hand that Heimdall wasn't holding flew out to swat Freya's away, but Kratos managed to catch her just in time, leaving her with no choice but to wail and sob with half her face buried in Heimdall's tunic.

All while the scion just watched.

The sound of her shrieks destroyed him. His stomach turned to ashes, his heart became the heaviest and coldest metal that crushed his organs, his lungs shrunk and dried out while he listened to her cry in anguish, the sight of her constant stream of awful tears making him wish he could rip his own eyes out to save himself from the sight.

And just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, Freya told Atreus to join her, both of them speaking the ancient phrase again while they pulled back even more, making Eivor's bawling even louder until her voice began to crack and give out. Heimdall wanted nothing more than to expel his soul from his being to make the scene just end.

It was just too much.

He never, ever, ever, wanted to see her like this again.

Never.

After what felt like a millennium, Freya gave one last brutal tug on the magic, rising to her feet and stumbling as the ugly curse remained between her hands. It burned her skin and bit at her palms, the goddess having to grind her teeth to stay in control of it. The magic wrestled with her, wriggling around in an attempt to escape and return to the host it had made a home in, but Freya's skills were too great. Grunting at the exertion, Freya let her own magic invade the curse until it began to shake violently, the Valkyrie queen ending the parasite by ripping her hands apart, her magic forcing it into the open air and eating away at it until it dissipated into nothingness. She had to take a moment to slow her breathing and shake out her hands after putting such strenuous pressure in herself.

Heimdall only looked at Eivor while the spectacle happened right next to him, his eyes not leaving her since her shouts came to a sudden halt and her body went limp. Her breathing was shallow, blood was still gradually leaking from the leftover gash, she was barely moving. The only thing he could tell himself as he eagerly waited for her to open her eyes was that they were too late.

“E-Eivor?” He breathlessly mumbled to her, the slight wheeze that was still present killing him even more. 

Consciousness was lost for just a moment, but Eivor was strong enough to bounce back in spite of the exhaustion, grounding herself with the feeling of Heimdall's hand on hers until her hearing cleared up and the darkness clouding her mind faded. Very slowly, she started to regain her grip on reality, the sounds of the rustling leaves of the jungle, the warm air from the fire near her, the dull ache that was still deeply burrowed into her chest, everything was there to remind her that she was not only alive, but well enough to come out of the dark hole she'd been buried in and fight back against the monsters that put her there.

She was still too tired to speak or open her eyes yet, but she found the motivation in the tiny, desperate whisper she heard. 

“Songbird, please…”

Heimdall used her nickname in public, in plain view of the entire camp. It told her just how mortified he was, how much he wanted her to show him that she was alright. Given how horrible this night had been for him, she had to get back up faster than her mind was letting her. She couldn't let him suffer like this. Her voice barely a rasp, tired and weak, she murmured to him, “I'm…okay.” Then, using all of the energy she had, she cracked her eyes open. Those beautiful true bifröst eyes were the first thing she saw, so filled with worry but finding relief when they met hers. “I'm okay,” she repeated, watching as he exhaled sharply, letting out all the tension that had plagued him. 

Freya knelt down by Eivor again, looking intently at her wound. “Do you feel cold anywhere? A burning sensation?” Eivor shook her head, making Freya relax. “Good. Then the spell is gone. I'm afraid the rest of the healing process is just time and rest, but I'll give you some herbs to speed it up. Once you feel well enough we can take you back to Sindri's. Do you just want something to dull the pain…or would you rather have what Freyr took?”

“No, thank you,” Eivor answered, unable to keep a hint of a smile off her face.

“Wise choice,” Freya agreed with a chuckle, happy to see that the young goddess still had her spirit. She stood and told Atreus and Kratos to give her and Heimdall space, leaving the two alone while Freya prepared the medicine she promised.

Eivor didn't say another word, only resting her head against Heimdall while he stared at her, looking past her as he was lost in thought. 

It just didn't make any sense. Nothing made any sense.

All these people hated him, and he hated them. But when he needed help, they all rallied to do something that he couldn't. When he was useless to them, they still let him stay close. They should have shunned him, thrown him out and told him he wasn't going to be anywhere near them while they treated their friend. Yet they did the opposite, putting their differences aside for the time being, treating him like he wasn't more than happy to kill them just hours ago. To say that they showed mercy didn't feel right. No, not mercy, it was…compassion. Showing kindness when they shouldn't just because they could. Until now, he firmly believed the only person capable of such a selfless act was Eivor. 

She'd always said he was wrong, that there were people out there who did care about others. He never believed her. He never thought it was true.

But if it wasn't true, then none of this should have happened. Eivor should have died in his arms due to his negligence, or at the very least he should have been abandoned and left to wonder if she would survive. 

So there could be no denying it. He was wrong.

Was that really so surprising?

Clearly he had always been wrong.

He held Eivor tighter, pulling her in close enough to bury his nose in her hair. 

He didn't even know who he was anymore.

[depressedbagpipe]

The Freak and the Jedi (Eddie Munson x female!Henderson!reader)

Chapter four: Dear Billy

Words: 3920 Warnings: foul language, the entire episode is a trigger warning in itself, canon-typical violence, a little misogyny i guess, robin running. also, i can't remember if i proofread this :/ A/N: so I kind of forgot about this chapter when I first thought about the plot of this fic, so I had to figure out what to do with the reader. i left out victor creel's story because, a) we all know it by now, and b) the chapter would otherwise be too long. Taglist: @authorlovers, @angiewhoohooo, @thatsamegirl, @lizzy-95, @elleeeee21, @tanyaherondale, @le-who-zer-her, @toobsessedsstuff

Series Masterlist Previous chapter <> Next chapter

Chapter four: Dear Billy

“It was here,” Max’s voice trembled. “Right here.”

We were now standing before an empty wall, our flashlights pointed to the tiles as Max recited her vision.

“A grandfather clock?” Nancy asked.

“It was so real. And then, when I got closer, suddenly I just… I woke up,” Max explained.

“It was like she was in a trance or something,” Dustin spoke.

“Exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy,” I finished for him.

Max turned around, facing us. “That’s not even the bad part,” she said before walking back to the office, her fingers slightly trembling as they scanned Ms. Kelley’s handwriting. “Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelley for help,” Robin took Chrissy’s file while Nancy took Fred’s. “Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn’t go away. And then… then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat. And then they started seeing things,” Robin’s arms tensed below me, as I was sitting on her lap on the only chair at the desk. “Bad things. From their past. And these visions, they just… they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually… everything ended.

“Vecna’s curse,” Robin confirmed.

“Chrissy’s headache started a week ago,” we were all looking at her intently, most of us speechless. “Fred’s, six days ago,” Max wasn’t looking at us anymore. “I’ve been having them for five days.”

Just then, the glass seemed to break. Realization dawned on us like cold water. 

“I don’t know how long I have,” Max was crying now. “All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than twenty-four hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock, so…” her breath was shaky. “looks like I’m gonna die tomorrow.”

A distant clang distracted us, making all of us turn our heads towards the door of the office on high alert.  

“Stay here,” Steve said before walking to the door, grabbing the tall lamp by the door and holding it ready to attack whoever was coming our way. 

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go,” I said as I stood from Robin’s lap, all of us walking out and following Steve with tentative steps. 

A figure quickly appeared in front of us, the sudden movement making all of us in fear before realizing it was Lucas.

“It’s me!” Lucas yelled too, extending his arms out to prevent Steve from splitting his head open.

“Lucas?” Nancy and I called, his unexpected presence throwing us off.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you, Sinclair?” Steve screamed at him, his hair pointing in different directions.

“I’m sorry!” Lucas was breathing heavily.

“I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!” Steve kept going as he tried to calm down.

“Sorry, guys, sorry. I was… I was biking for eight miles. Give me a second. Shit,” he kept panting, holding a finger out. He was barely holding himself up but kept talking regardless. “We’ve got a code red.”

“What?” Steve asked.

“Dustin,” Lucas ignored Steve and walked directly to my brother. “I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone like totally off the rails. They’re trying to capture Eddie, and they think you know where he is,” Lucas gulped. “You’re in terrible danger.”

I froze on the spot, looking at them with an alarmed face.

Dustin only shrugged. “All right, yeah, that definitely sucks, but we’ve got bigger problems than Jason right now,” he answered as he looked back at Max, her face reflecting everyone’s fear.

“Okay, so…” Nancy looked at us with a wide smile. “We have a plan.” 

Nancy, Robin, and I quickly descended towards the basement, freshly printed files in our hands as we excitedly delivered the news to the guys.

“Thanks to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rock-star psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin said as the guys looked at the files.

“I’m now Ruth,” said Nancy.

“I’m Ruby,” I said.

“And I’m Rose,” Robin concluded, with a rather disgusted face.

 Steve looked at Nancy with a funny look. “Ruth?”

“Nice GPA,” said Dustin with an impressed face. “Not that far from your actual one,” he winked at me.

I winked at him back. “Thanks.”

“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Victor Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics…”

“To which they said no,” added Robin.

“But we landed a three o’clock with the director.” Nancy finished.

“Now, all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” I concluded.

“Then maybe we can rid Max of this curse,” said Nancy, looking at her from her place across the basement.

Max hadn’t even lifted her head when the three of us came in, quickly writing something down that she wouldn’t let us see until she was finished, so we just left her to her own until she was ready to speak.

“Yeah, about that,” Steve interrupted, lifting his eyebrows as he went over the newspapers Nancy and Robin had retrieved from the library. “We’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework, and, uh, we got some questions.”

“Lots of questions,” Lucas confirmed.

“So do we. Hopefully, Victor has the answers,” I responded, bringing my hands together and trying to make my point across.

“Wait… wait… wait a second. Uh, where’s mine?” Steve was holding our files in his hands, waving them in the air as he looked at the three of us expectantly.

Steve was already chasing after Nancy upstairs. Robin and I followed them while we laughed at his antics, complaining about being the babysitter yet again. 

Robin’s eyes opened wide as she took a look inside Nancy’s room. “Oh my god, you have a Tom Cruise poster!” she stopped dead in her tracks, looking at her with a knowing smile. “You have a Tom Cruise poster,” she repeated while Nancy went through her closet, ignoring Robin as she tried to keep Steve at bay.

“Can you please not touch anything?” Nancy yelled at Robin, who was looking through Nancy’s mixtapes by her bedside table.

“I can’t do anything here, Nance,” Steve tried. “Uh, maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude. I don’t know, I could like turn on like my… my charm,” I snorted at him.

“Like you charmed Mr. García?” I offered with a grin, enjoying Steve’s glare.

“Not the charm we need,” Nancy concluded.

“Ouch,” Steve added, facing Robin, who kept touching things.

Nancy looked apologetic. “No, I just… Look, I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar, okay? This is a lifelong student of the world, and if we’re gonna win him over, we’re gonna have to convince him we are too.” Nancy looked at us. “That, like him, we are true academic scholars.”

Robin was now holding Nancy’s music box in her hands, looking at Steve and me with a surprised look on her face. “Holy shit, there’s a little ballerina in here,” she whispered while I laughed, going next to her and also gushing over the little box.

“Academic scholars? They’re giving you academic scholar vibes? Yeah,” Steve protested.

Nancy sighed. “No, but…” she held a couple of dresses for us to see, the bright pink contrasting over our clothes as we both groan at the design. “They will.”

“Oh, please, tell me that you’re joking,”

“I gotta admit, it’s been a hot minute since I last wore a dress,” I said while I adjusted the collar of my neck, the bright color contrasting with my usual attire.

“Junior prom, right?” Nancy asked while she drove.

“Homecoming,” I answered. “We skipped junior prom,” I answered, smiling at the memory of the sleepover at Steve’s house, watching movies and eating pizza all night.

“Back to the Future was funnier when we were high,” Robin added, her voice tight at her attire. It didn’t take a genius to know she hated it. “Didn’t you have something more uncomfortable, Wheeler?” she complained from the passenger seat.

Nancy rolled her eyes at her.

“I really hope we get the answers we need,” I added, hoping to ease the tension. “Too many people have already suffered because of this,” I said, thinking back to Max, sitting on the chair with a concentrated look on her face, fear evident in her eyes.

“Ooh, let me guess, you want Eddie to walk free, don’t you?” Robin winked at me from her rearview mirror, momentarily forgetting her own discomfort.

I blushed in the backseat. “I did not say that, Ro,” I excused myself, not meeting her eyes.

“But you meant it,” she turned around in her seat to face me.

I scoffed. “Whatever,” even though I knew Robin would not let the conversation go.

“Admit it, you kinda like him,” she was pushing buttons.

I snapped at her. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is?” Robin kept going, her mischievous face never ceasing.

“I just… I don’t want Vecna destroying another life, okay?” I looked out the window at the speeding landscape, trying to avoid Robin’s interrogation.

She smiled at me. “Like Eddie's was?”

“Robin!” I yelled, trying to shut her up completely.

“What? I’m just saying, you were getting kinda cozy at the shed,” she threw her hands up as if feigning innocence.

Nancy intervened, her back tense with how much we were talking. “God, please, not Eddie Munson, I already told you, he’s a dealer!” she shot me a glare from the mirror, her hands gripping hardly the steering wheel.

“And he’s hot,” Robin winked at me again.

“Damnit, Robin!” I repeated, my words dying in my throat at the prospect of possibly outing her without her consent. 

“God, not for me, but for you? I mean, he’s totally your type,” Robin pulled at the neck of her blouse once again.

“I’m not having this conversation now, Ro,” I looked at Nancy, wishing to catch her eyes so she could help me put an end to it all.

“We totally are, unless you wanna hear me complain about these clothes,” she looked at me expectantly. She continued when I sighed in defeat. “So, you and Eddie?”

I shook my head. “There’s no ‘me and Eddie’ anymore,” I turned my head to the side once again, freezing as soon as I processed my words. 

“Wait, did you say ‘anymore?’” Nancy suddenly perched on her seat. Shit.

“…no?”

“You totally did,” Robin’s mouth hung open.

“Shut up.” Damnit.

“You did!” Robin yelled, gripping the backseat in excitement.

“Alright, I did!” I gave in, yelling back at her.

“Oh my fucking god!” Robin put her hands over her mouth, laughing in shock as she stared at me.

Even Nancy was constantly looking at me from the mirror, making me fear a possible crash.

“Shut up, Buckley,” I pointed my finger at her, trying to get her to calm down before she exploded.

“Spit it out, Henderson!” she copied my actions. 

“What are you not telling us?” Nancy asked, only calmer.

I sighed as I stared at them both, already regretting my mistake. “Eddie and I used to date.”

I was met with silence, both girls seemingly coordinated not to move a muscle at my confession.

“What?” they finally both said at the same time.

“What you’ve heard,” I answered.

“When?” Robin was ready for gossip.

“How?” Nancy asked, something that looked like disgust evident on her face.

“It was a couple of years ago, before Will, and El, and the Upside Down. Actually, I broke up with him the night we fought the Demogorgon at Jonathan’s house,” I added, looking at Nancy.

“Wait, is that why you were crying before we left the school?” Nancy asked, remorse lacing her words.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“Why did you break up with him?” Robin’s voice was now softer, barely a whisper.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t safe for him. I didn’t want him in this mess, it wasn’t fair to him,” my voice broke a little.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nancy asked, her eyes reflecting the pain.

“Does Dustin know?” asked Robin, always one step ahead.

“We didn’t tell anybody, so no, not even Dustin knows about us. We were both going through our stuff and we just kinda… fell in together, you know? We’re not that different. And we kept each other company. And I was happy,” a single tear fell down my cheek, but I quickly brushed it away.

“And now what?” Robin asked sympathetically after a couple of seconds of silence.

“It was Eddie’s idea not to tell anybody after we broke up. He was being targeted by half the school and said he didn’t want me to run the same fate,” I smiled at the memory, of how his hair was growing out and the big ketchup stain in the middle of his Hellfire Club shirt.

“Shit, I… I’m sorry,” Robin said, taking my hand in hers and stroking it softly in comfort.

“I’m really sorry, too. I should’ve not judged him as I did,” Nancy too joined in the apology. 

“We won’t tell anybody, we promise,” Robin added, extending her pinky to me. “Pinky promise?” she offered.

I chuckled at her, feeling my chest fill with warmth at my friends. “Pinky promise.”

In a twist of events, Robin Buckley saved our asses by convincing Pennhurst Mental Hospital’s warden Anthony Hatch to give us ten minutes with Victor Creel. He walked us around the facilities, my blood growing cold at the sight of so many people trapped inside their own heads, living in the shell of who they once were. Entering one of the biggest wings of the building, soft classical music received us as we walked among the many patients dressed in white robes.

“This is one of our more popular areas. The listening room,” he motioned us inside, walking behind him. “We found that music has a particularly calming effect on the broken mind,” he whispered as he led us across the room. “The right song, particularly one which holds some personal meaning, can prove a salient stimulus. But there are those who are… beyond a cure.”

I shared a look with Nancy and Robin, the uneasiness of his words sending shivers down my spine as he exited the room via a different door and walked downstairs towards the basement.  

“Uh, Doctor Hatch, do you think it might be possible for us to speak to Victor alone?” both the doctor and the guard outside the restricted area looked at us in bewilderment. 

“Alone?” he asked.

“I… I think that we would just love the challenge of speaking with Victor without the safety net of an expert such as yourself. Then we could really rub it in Professor Bradley’s face when we get back to class…” I internally winced.

Dr. Hatch was shaking his head in confusion. “Professor Bradley? I don’t believe I know a Professor Bradley.”

“Brantley. She… she meant to say, Brantley,” I laughed as I looked at Robin with wide eyes, scared that we had just blown our cover.

“Didn’t I say Brantley? What did I say?” we nervously laughed at her, keeping up the charade. “Sorry, silly me. Words, letters,” Robin crossed her arms as the three of us stared at him with big smiles. “Guess I’m just nervous. I mean, excited,” she corrected herself. “So excited to speak with Victor. Preferably, as she said, alone?” 

We kept smiling at him, my heart beating rapidly at his silence.

At last, he smiled. “Yes, why not?” but even his smile held something. “You’ve caught me in a rebellious mood,” we all chuckled at him. “And there’s something rather urgent I need to check on anyway, so… sure.”

With a nod he walked up the stairs, not giving us a second glance. 

“Thank you so much, Dr. Hatch,” Robin started, followed by Nancy and me even well after he was out of sight.

The guard then opened the door to a dark corridor that pretty much resembled a prison. How fitting.

“Do not startle him. Do not touch him. Do not pass him anything. Stand five feet away from the bars at all times. Is that clear?” the guard said as he walked us to Victor Creel’s cell, pulling out his nightstick and hitting the bars to wake him up. 

“Yes sir,” we all answered, fear gripping at our edges.

“Victor,” the guard mocked the man. “Today’s your lucky day! You got visitors. Real pretty ones,” I glared at him at his words, wishing he would just leave so that I wouldn’t have to punch him in the face. The sound of metal being scratched drew our attention to the man sitting at the desk at the far end of the cell. “Must be in one of his moods,” the guard said as he walked away. “Have fun.”

We waited until he left to walk to the bars.

“Victor? My name is Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. And these are…” Nancy looked at us to follow her lead.

I said my name in a small voice.

“Robin Buckley.” 

“Um, we have some questions,” Nancy tried.

“I don’t talk to reporters; Hatch knows that,” the man spoke, yet he still didn’t turn to us. He kept scratching the desk.

“We’re not reporters,” I answered. “We’re here because… we believe you. And because we need your help.”

“Whatever killed your family, we think it’s back,” Robin continued. 

Victor Creel then turned to us, the sight of his scratched eyes forever imprinting itself into my head. 

Being arrested for breaking in into a top-security cell at an asylum was not on my bucket list.

“You’re not listening, our friend is in danger!” Nancy walked behind Doctor Hatch, pleading to let us go as we desperately explained our situation.

“Do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say at this point?” he led us once again through the listening room, the patients ignoring us as we hurried to the exit.

“It’s the truth!” I yelled at him, trying to keep up in Nancy’s ballerina flats.

“You are free to tell your sob story to the police,” the doctor said.

“Move along,” the same guard that took us to Victor’s cell pushed Robin forward when she stopped for a few seconds.

“Don’t touch me!” she put her arm away.

Clair de Lune was slowly playing in the background, the ballad contrasting to the anxiety we all three were experiencing. 

As we reached the gardens outside, Robin stood next to us, whispering rapidly into our ears.

“Victor said the night of the attack, everything went on in the house, but he made specific mention of music, he said music was playing. And then, when we asked him about the angel, he started to hum,” Robin spoke.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me,” I answered, finally recognizing the song he hummed. “Ella Fitzgerald.”

Nancy gasped. “The voice of an angel.”

“Yeah,” Robin spoke. “Hatch said that music can reach parts of the brain that words can’t. So maybe, that's the key, a lifeline.”

“A lifeline back to reality,” Nancy continued.

“It’s worth a shot,” I concluded, looking back at the two guards that followed us a few steps behind us, looking bored out of their minds. “I think we can beat them,” Nancy nodded at my words.

“What?” Robin panicked.

“To the car,” Nancy continued as well.

“Okay, I’m warning you right now, I have terrible coordination,” Robin kept panicking.

“I know, I’ve seen you in gym class,” I grinned at her, sheer determination on my face.

“Like, it took me six months longer to walk than all the other babies,” she complained, but Nancy was faster.

“Just follow our lead,” and with that, she bolted towards the parking lot. 

I ran after her, tugging Robin’s wrist so she wouldn’t stay behind.

“No, my God!”

We ran across the grass, dodging the patients and sprinting towards the car as we tried to outrun the guards. I saw one of Robin’s shoes fly next to my head, yet we couldn’t stop to retrieve it for we were running out of time. The guards were hot on our tails when we reached the car, practically jumping inside and blocking the doors as we sat down, Nancy quickly starting the car ignoring the guard on her window and hitting the glass for her to stop. 

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Robin exclaimed as we both looked back, with Nancy focused on driving away from the place.

“You really are a weird runner,” Nancy laughed in shock.

I chuckled, but the moment was interrupted when our walkie went off, an anguished-sounding Dustin yelling on the other side.

“Where the hell are you? This is a code red! I repeat, a code red!” I grabbed it and placed it on my ear.

“Dus, it’s me. We copy,” I answered.

“Holy shit, finally! Please, please tell me you guys have this figured out!” Dustin kept screaming into the radio.

I paled, knowing what was most likely going on. “Play her favorite song! Now!” I yelled into the radio, shaking a bit in place after Dustin’s response of approval, the line going dead.

We all stared at each other in silence, praying that we were right, and that Max could still be saved.

“Thanks for doing this, guys. It’ll be just a minute,” I said appreciatively as I closed the car door behind me.

“Be quick, we can’t be seen here,” Nancy pleaded, but there was softness in her eyes.

I nodded at her before turning around and walking towards the shed.

I knocked on the door a few times. “Eddie? It’s me. I’m coming in,” I said before opening the door, and finding Eddie on the other side, his hand stretched.

“Sorry, I was about to open the door for you,” he grinned, letting me step inside and closing the door behind me.

“Right, I should’ve called. Sorry, I don’t have much time, I…” Eddie interrupted me.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he looked me over, heat rising to my cheeks as I remembered I was still dressed in Nancy’s clothes.

“These aren’t mine, don’t worry. It’s a long story, too, I just… I just wanted to check you’re alright,” I said, my arms limp.

I didn’t know why I was so nervous, but after everything that had happened at Pennhurst, I didn’t want to go to sleep without knowing he was fine first.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m running low on supplies but I’ll live another day,” he joked.

I stared at him, my breath hitching in my throat. Out of impulse, I threw my hands around him, hiding my face in his chest as I closed my eyes, gripping his torso tightly.

“Woah, you okay there?” he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me even closer to him.

I nodded, but remained silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying his warmth and his company.

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I pulled away from him, redness around my eyes. “I just really needed that,” I said. “You sure you’re okay?” I asked him, knowing my time was running out.

He nodded at me, his hands twirling the sleeves of his jacket. “I’m okay.”

With a nod and a sigh, I said goodbye, leaving a dumbfounded Eddie in the shed, as I felt my heart break a little more with each step toward Nancy’s car.

Next chapter

[kamyru]

theres a scenario with hayama and a lost kid in one of his MS. Can you do one when Kijima also encounters a wandering child look for their parents?

Hi! Thank you for this ask. This trope is one of my favorite in fiction. I hope you'll like the story, even if it took me so long to write it. Enjoy! ❤️

Toshiaki Kijima helping a lost kid (Scenario)

Summary: Toshiaki didn't expect for a trip to the market to turn into an entire adventure for him and a lost boy.

Words counting: 1516

Toshiaki had his phone in his hands to announce to his wife that he had found the part he needed for his motorcycle. However, the moment MC answered the phone, it fell from the man's hands as his attention got caught by a boy that didn't look older than five-year-old. A bicycle approached the kid fast, and if it weren't for Toshiaki to grab the boy, it would have had a sad ending. The kid, who tried to be calm, finally burst into tears. Toshiaki picked up his phone, hoping that it was still functional, and checked if the call was still going. He could hear his wife's scared voice.

"I'm alright, don't worry. I'll call you a little bit later," the man said before giving the boy all his attention. "Are you alright?"

The kid didn't hear Toshiaki. He didn't even recognize his presence. The man knelt in front of the boy. He thanked all the gods for having a wife with a sweet tooth. Thanks to her, he always had candies in his pockets. Taking out one, he finally caught the boy's attention.

"Mom says I am not allowed to eat many sweets. I already had a chocolate today."

A smile appeared on Toshiaki's face, and he felt the urge to pat the boy's head. However, he didn't want to cause him discomfort.

"Where are your parents?" Toshiaki finally asked what concerned him the most. Though, his question triggered another round of crying. This time, Toshiaki's palm found its place on the boy's shoulder, caressing him reassuringly. "Do you know your home address?" the man asked, hoping it was near them. However, after hearing it, he understood that he would have to find the kid's parents instead of his home, which was on the other side of the city. "Do you know the phone number of your home or one of your parents?"

The boy frowned while mumbling some numbers. A smile appeared on Toshiaki's face. However, it disappeared when the mumbling stopped, and the boy looked helplessly at him.

"I forgot the last two digits of my mom's phone number."

Toshiaki felt like sighing, but he didn't want to stress the boy even more. He looked around him, hoping that maybe he would catch anyone searching for their kid.

"How come you're here alone?" the man asked in his softest voice, which he usually dedicated to his wife.

"I saw a cat and played with her for a minute, and when I turned to look after mom, she wasn't there anymore. Will you help me find her?"

Toshiaki nodded with a smile, even if he had no idea what he could do better than call the police. He didn't want to stress the kid and his parents more than necessary, hoping that in a few minutes, his mother would return after him. The man was fidgeting with his wedding band, trying to make a plan. However, the boy started to talk again.

"I want to pee."

The boy looked down and moved his weight from one leg to another. Toshiaki turned around, and his eyes fell on a cafe. He picked up the kid and approached it. He could ask the barista if he saw anyone looking like the kid's mom.

"You're so tall. You're even taller than my father. I can see everything from here," the boy's mood finally improved while he looked around, searching for his mom.

"How does your mom look like?" Toshiaki asked while going to the cafe.

"She is taller than me and very pretty. She also has the kindest smile in the world and loves me a lot," the boy started and glared at Toshiaki in search of approval. When he saw the man's face still deep in thought, he finally understood what he had to say. "She has black hair, wears a pink coat she calls peach, and has a scarf with a flowery print."

While the boy was in the restroom, Toshiaki approached the barista and asked them if they saw a woman that corresponded with the boy's description. However, the answer was no. But the barista announced through the speakers, hoping a client would recognize the woman.

When the boy returned, his eyes fell on the sandwiches displayed at the shop. He sighed and approached Toshiaki's side. However, the man caught on to his behavior and picked the boy again.

"Are you hungry? Do you want to order anything?"

After the boy confirmed this, Toshiaki approached the barista again and asked for the sandwich that had caught the kid's attention. They took a seat from which they could see everyone that walked on the street. While munching on his sandwich, the boy's eyes traveled from the people outside the cafe to the man near him.

"Who are you?" he asked the shortest question he had in mind.

Toshiaki's eyes left the street and interlocked with the boy's. He tilted his head, trying to understand what a kid could want to hear.

"I'm Toshiaki Kijima," he said, hoping it was enough. But when the kid's eyes didn't leave him, he continued: "I work for an advertisement company." After this, Toshiaki bowed. The boy returned the bow and moved his eyes outside.

"How old are you? Do you like cats? What are you doing here? Do you have kids?"

Toshiaki blinked a few times at the boy, trying to understand if he really wanted to hear everything about this. However, a question caught his attention and linked with what the boy had told him minutes ago.

"I do have a cat. It's my wife's cat, and he lives with us. His name is Takuro, and if you want, I can show you a few photos with him."

The boy's eyes started to spark, and Toshiaki chuckled again while fishing for his phone in his pockets. Only then did he understand that the phone's screen broke. He sighed and tried to detach the screen protector while being watched by the eager kid. The man let out a breath when he saw that only the protective glass was broken. Before he opened his photos, he read the notification, searching for a message from his wife. MC really had sent him a message asking Toshiaki what had happened, and he made a mental note to answer it as soon as possible. He entered his gallery while the boy leaned closer to look at the screen. However, before he could find a photo of Takuro, a selfie of him and his wife caught the kid's attention.

"Who is this?"

"This is my wife," Toshiaki whispered bashfully.

"Her smile is nearly as cute as my mom's."

The kid's words made a smile appear on Toshiaki's face. He finally found a photo of Takuro. Moreover, there were even a few videos. And while the boy was entertained by the big and fluffy cat on the screen, Toshiaki scanned every pedestrian that passed by the cafe. Finally, a woman that looked exactly like the boy's description, with a disheveled appearance, and a worried look, appeared on the streets.

"Is this your mom?" Toshiaki asked the boy.

Before answering, the boy left his place and started running to the woman Toshiaki saw. The man ran after him. However, he stopped a few meters away when he saw them hugging each other. After a while, the boy's head turned around to look at the man who helped him. Toshiaki waved to the kid and was a second away from leaving. Yet, the boy ran to him and hugged his legs.

"Thank you!" he started with a big smile. Then, with a shy expression, he said: "Can you take me up once more?"

Toshiaki laughed, but before fulfilling the boy's wish, he looked at his mom, who was approaching them. She nodded, so the man took the boy in his hands. But this time, instead of holding him against his hip, Toshiaki put him on his shoulders. That made the kid clap his hands due to happiness.

"Thank you for taking care of my kid, and I'm sorry for disturbing you," the woman said while her child was being entertained by the view around him.

Toshiaki shook his head and then handed the kid back to his mom. After exchanging a few more pleasantries and giving the kid his phone number because the boy wanted to see Takuro again, Toshiaki was finally free to return home.

"Kids are exhausting," Toshiaki said while letting himself fall on the couch in his living room.

MC, who found out about Toshiaki's adventures on his way home when he messaged her, approached her husband and hugged his shoulders from behind.

"I thought you wanted to have kids," she whispered against his neck. The man took his wife's hands and nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

"I do. But they are still challenging," Toshiaki said while kissing his wife.

MC let out a chuckle and put herself on her husband's lap. She knew that even if the kids were challenging, it would be a challenge both of them could deal with.

[scarfacehastings]

Memories

“Scarlett..What happened?” The voice was so distant after the sudden rampage that filled her. Her fingers were still curled up into a ball, and she had just finished destroying every inch of her room mere seconds before Rhett walked in. “Scar..Hello?” This time he was closer, his hand on her shoulder, trying to pull her back to reality. 

Tears swarmed her eyes as she turned around to see the male in front of her, she inhaled sharply. She forgot that he was coming over. Horror filled her face as she chewed anxiously at her bottom pout, peeling the skin off of her lips. “Wh-When did you get here?” She stammered, but he just shook his head grabbing her hands to examine the damage that she had created. Her knuckles were bruised from where she punched holes into her walls, and the wooden door. “This isn’t what it looks like, I-” Of course she couldn’t come up with a lie. Not now.

“It’s okay, why don’t we sit down?” His voice was calm, something she hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. Normally, the both of them were fighting or spoke in passing and he was monotoned, emotionless. Guiding the both of them to the bed that sat mere inches apart he stared at her, brushing the dark locks away from her face as they clung to her tear-stained cheeks. “Why don’t you tell me what happened,” he coaxed. Scarlett knew there was no lie to get her out of this one, but she still didn’t know where to begin or where the photo went that triggered all of this. 

“I don’t know what happened,” she lied. That was the best part that she could muster up. Looking in every direction but his, she finally turned her head towards the middle of the room. Almost perfectly in the center was the Polaroid in question and just like on cue Rhett followed her gaze. The bed shifted as he picked up the photo.

“Is this what happened?” He asked examining the picture closely nearly cringing at what it contained:

It was the family Christmas photo back from six years ago. Scarlett was obsessed with the camera she had gotten from my parents, so naturally, wherever she went that camera went. Going from left to right were the following people: Asher, Adams, LeAnne, Andrew, Rhett and Scarlett.

It was the photo of the century, the one where Rhett had officially met the entire family, and the day her world came crashing down. Faces were scratched out, but only two remained; LeAnne and Rhetts. Scarletts face included was nothing but a huge X going through it. As Rhett brought the picture closer, his fingers ran over the harsh damages to the faces and sighed. “Scarlett..” He started but the woman just shook her head, holding a hand up.

“There’s nothing to talk about..I just.. Lost it. It was a reminder of the time I had a sense of happiness. A sense of direction of how I wanted my life to go. Now? It’s nothing but a painful memory of everything. How I’ve lost who I am, what I was.. None of it makes sense anymore and I’m just.. Lost.” She admitted before her hand dropped, fist opening to the small tennis bracelet that she received that same night. Two for one memories if you will. Quickly tucking it underneath her pillow she just looked up at him with a somber expression.

“You aren’t lost, Scarlett. You were, are, better off without any of them anyways. Look how far you’ve come. You’ve learned so much, you’re keeping up with your sobriety. You aren’t alone in any of this, I promise.” Picking a lighter out of his pocket, Rhett flicked it open and stared at her as the flame came to life. “It’s time to let go, Peach. It’s time to make a new name for the Hastings. Fuck the old,” He said before the flame connected with the photos nearly scorching the top as the plastic back started to melt.

As the token memory became ash in her garbage can she rested her head against the males muscular build. His limbs encased tightly around her as they both watched the memory that was painful to the both of them disintegrate right before them. “Thank you, Toad,” she whispered as her eyes adverted up to him, smiling weakly as his lips pressed to her forehead.

“Anything for you, Princess peach,” he whispered, finally falling silent as the both of them allowed the process of the burning photo erase all memories, any evidence of what used to be.

Welcome to Sanctum, a place where new beginnings start. A place where you can rebuild yourself, and forget the past.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Beneath The skin

Relationship: Remus Lupin x OFC

Summary: This is the story of one young woman's struggle with pain, inner pain, mental pain, physical pain, psychological pain, every kind of pain you can imagine. Remus Lupin understands pain, he wants her to understand that it doesn't mean you can't feel anything else, he wants her to understand that pain has absolutely nothing on love.  

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING, heavy mentions of self-harm and suicidal tendencies, pain, angst, loss of parents, trust issues. 18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 32 - Amara

The birth was as terrifying as Remus expected it to be, she was a week early and scared. They had gone to St Mungo’s before she was due, Remus needed a couple of days rest after the full moon before he felt he could be supportive enough for Rosaline.

She was in so much pain and Remus was scared that this would be too much for her, he did everything he could, he encouraged her to breathe and hold his hand, he helped the healers keep her as calm as they could, but the whole thing was incredibly traumatic for the both of them.

Rosaline was in labour for well over twelve hours before finally they heard the cries of their baby. Rosaline was crying, they were both sweating and they felt awful, but the second the healer handed over their beautiful baby, they forgot about how awful they felt for a while.

‘It’s a girl.’ The healer said and went about cleaning up.

‘You did it.’ Remus whispered and kissed Rosaline’s damp hair, she was tiring and weak and needed his help to hold their baby girl, but she was smiling. Remus laughed and watched his wife smile though all the pain. ‘I’m so proud of you Rosaline, you did so well.’ He laughed and looked down at their daughter who was still crying.

‘We’ll get her cleaned up and let you rest for a while.’ The healer said, gently taking their baby girl.

Rosaline panicked for a moment, before Remus calmed her down.

‘It’s okay, she’ll be back,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘She’ll be okay, you just need to rest, Rosaline. Please just rest for a while, you’re exhausted.’

‘She’s so beautiful.’ Rosaline said, watching the back of the healer as she left.

‘Just like her mother.’ Remus moved the hair away from Rosaline’s face, it was damp and couldn’t have been comfortable in the slightest, but she seemed glad it was over. ‘Rosaline, get some sleep for me. I’ll make sure she’s okay, please just rest for a while.’

Rosaline finally looked up at Remus, her green eyes were so bloodshot and she was more than exhausted, but she eventually agreed to sleep for a while. Remus couldn’t help himself, as soon as he was sure she was resting, he went to see his daughter.

Once she was cleaned up, he was allowed to hold her, she was so small and so helpless, completely innocent. The healer had told him that a new-born responds best to skin on skin contact and Remus felt right, holding his daughter’s fragile, tiny figure against his chest, keeping her warm and safe for a few hours while Rosaline rested.

Tonks had raced to the hospital when she heard, Kingsley was right behind her and they were so excited to see the tiny life in Remus’s hands.

‘Does she have a name yet?’ Tonks asked quietly while both Rosaline and their daughter slept.

‘Not yet,’ Remus said, still feeling his face ache from how much he was smiling. ‘I’ve got a few ideas, but I’m waiting for Rosaline to wake up before we decide on anything.’

‘How long has she been asleep for?’ Tonks frowned, carefully adjusting the soft blanket around the baby’s face.

‘A few hours, but the healers say that normal.’ Remus quickly put to bed any fears that this was like the last time they were in hospital. ‘Though, I fully expect her to stay sleeping for longer than usual. She was exhausted before she got here and with her own condition, I can’t imagine it’s remotely easy on her.’

Tonks gave Remus a strange look, it was almost questioning in nature and he knew exactly what she was thinking about, but he wasn't sure how much he wanted to dwell on it. She had yet to show any signs of lycanthropy or pain, in fact, she was sleeping as soundly as a baby should have slept when tired, so it was really anyone’s guess.

Tonks and Kingsley didn’t ask to hold his daughter, they didn’t want have the chance before Rosaline got some time with her.

It was a long time before Rosaline finally showed signs of waking up, she was weak and tired, but all she wanted to do was hold her daughter. Remus went over to the small cot next to her bed and carefully lifted the tiny life into his arms. He made sure Rosaline was comfortable before placing their daughter into her arms.

Remus sat next to her on the bed and softly kissed her head while she stared down at the sleeping figure.

‘We still need a name.’ He said, stroking Rosaline’s hair and helping her hold their child.

Rosaline kept a hold of her tears, but her stuttered breathing wasn’t missed by Remus, he chuckled and kissed her again.

‘What do you think?’ Rosaline asked, at a complete loss. Remus could see that she might have had one or two ideas and he so desperately wanted her to choose a name for their daughter, he was giving her the name Lupin and it would have been enough for him if Rosaline chose her first name.

‘Well,’ Remus breathed in. ‘We could name her after your mother, or come up with something more original?’

‘Like what?’

‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Remus lied. ‘What kind of name do you think she should have?’

Rosaline thought for a while, frowning as she spoke. ‘My mother’s middle name was Amara, she never liked her first name that much.’

‘Amara.’ Remus tested it, his daughter made a small sound when he did and he couldn’t help but take it as a sign that that was her name.

‘What about… Amara Hope Lupin?’ Rosaline asked, it seemed like a genuine question, but the very mention of his own mother’s name was enough to make him kiss his wife and agree without hesitation.

‘Amara Hope Lupin.’ Remus nodded. ‘That’s our daughter.’

They watched Amara sleep for a while, she didn’t do anything else but Remus and Rosaline were entirely captivated by her.

Rosaline was so tired by the time they were allowed to take Amara home, but the only real pain she felt was in her cheeks from how much she was smiling. She carried Amara, while Remus carried her bag and urged her to get their daughter settled upstairs while he made some tea.

The first few days were difficult and it took some adjusting, but they were doing their best, every time one of them needed to get up in the night was difficult, Rosaline just took so long to adjust to being awake that Remus would end up going in to see to his daughter’s needs almost every time.

‘You know something?’ Remus said, placing the sleeping Amara down in her cot. ‘I always vowed I’d never love anyone or anything more than I love you.’ Remus smiled at Rosaline. ‘I was wrong, I love her more than anyone could possibly imagine.’

Rosaline gently bit her lip, she knew what he was talking about and she agreed, as much as she loved Remus, she loved her daughter more in a new, wonderful way.

Remus quietly wandered over to where Rosaline was leaning against the doorframe, gently prying her lip away from her teeth with his thumb and slowly kissing her, tasting her and making her hum against him. She missed the feeling of him against her, making her feel alive inside.

‘I’m… erm… I’m still not… erm…’ Rosaline struggled to tell Remus what was going on in her head, but he got it loud and clear.

‘You’re still fragile,’ he confirmed. ‘That’s okay, we don’t have to do anything. You did just give birth so I’m not expecting a single thing from you.’ Remus kissed her forehead and she breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you for telling me… and thank you for giving me a daughter.’ Remus held her hips gently against him and Rosaline could feel him watching Amara while he stood with her.

‘Thank you for loving me.’ Rosaline felt the tears in her eyes, but Remus didn’t let her cry them, he softly stroked her cheeks and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’m scared Remus,’ she suddenly admitted. ‘I’m scared that this war is going to go on forever. Tonks said that she didn’t think the war would last a year and yet he we are-‘

‘Rosaline.’ Remus stopped her and gently guided her into their bedroom away from Amara. ‘Just calm down, everything will be alright.’ He brought her to sit on his lap. ‘We’re both very emotional right now and I know how that sounds, but it’s true. I’ve been having the same worries, but we’re parents now and unfortunately that means we will start worrying over things that out of our control. The war will end, we will be fine as long as we focus on keeping our family safe, alright? That’s all you need to worry about right now… at least for another week and then we can start to assess-‘

‘What do you mean another week?’ Rosaline frowned. ‘What’s happening next week?’

Remus looked up at her and sighed. ‘We haven’t talked about it, but we need to… she hasn’t shown any signs of experiencing any pain, which means… there is a good chance that I have passed on my… we just need to ready ourselves.’

Rosaline wasn’t sure what to make of Remus’s statement and so said nothing. The possibility that Amara was a werewolf was drifting further and further from her mind, she just didn’t want to think about her beautiful daughter suffering like her parents in any way.

‘What do we do if… if she…?’

‘I don’t know if there’s anything we can do,’ Remus’s eyes were filling with tears. ‘I’m so sorry I did this to her.’

Rosaline wrapped her arms around her husband and tried to hold him together, but as soon as Rosaline let a few of her own tears go, Amara started crying.

‘I’ll get this one.’ Rosaline whispered and kissed Remus softly. ‘Why don’t you run a bath?’

‘You’re doing wonderfully, dear.’ Molly assured Rosaline. They’d gone over to the Burrow at the end of June to get some baby advice and introduce Amara to what they considered to be family. Tonks had made an appearance not too long afterwards. ‘We were nervous when we had our first, Bill, but we got through it eventually, it just takes a little time to get used to things and just remember that babies are more resilient than you think they are, so don’t panic too much if she gets any small knocks here and there.’ Rosaline wasn’t exactly sure she believed Molly, but then she’d had seven children so maybe she was right.

‘She’s a beauty alright.’ Arthur cuddled Amara, who let out small noises of amusement. ‘Got some fine genes, Rosie.’ He winked and it only made Rosaline’s cheeks flood with embarrassment, Remus however, had a slightly saddened look. ‘She’s got her mother’s eyes.’ Arthur had a slightly more content look to him, one that only a father could have for a daughter.

‘That she does.’ Remus said, quietly. He was now looking on his daughter with complete adoration.

‘Congratulations.’ Bill arrived with Fleur and shook Remus’s hand, Fleur giving him her signature kiss on each cheek. Remus was somehow never affected by Fleur’s beauty, not that Rosaline worried at all, but every other man was hypnotised by her on sight. ‘She’s gorgeous.’

‘So very beautiful.’ Fleur agreed with her thick French accent. ‘What is her name?’

‘Amara Hope Lupin.’ Remus said rather proudly and the whole Weasley family felt his pride. ‘We, erm…’ Remus looked uncertain at Rosaline, who just nodded feeling her cheeks hurt with her growing smile. ‘We had hoped to ask that Molly, Arthur and Tonks… well, we agreed that we want you to be godparents.’

There was a moment of silence before Molly began crying and saying something completely inaudible, making Amara cry with the pitch. Rosaline took her daughter and tried to calm her down a little.

‘Of course we will.’ Arthur translated his wife’s hysteria with a chuckle.

Tonks had been quiet up to that point. ‘You want me to be a godmother?’ She asked, unsure if they really were asking.

‘Who else is going to teach her not to take crap from Dawlish?’ Rosaline winked, still rocking Amara who was beginning to settle.

There was a sudden crack in the garden that had them all turning towards it cautiously.

‘Anyone expecting?’ Arthur said to a silent kitchen.

Everyone had their wands out, aside from Molly who was urging Rosaline to bring Amara somewhere safer, but before they could get very far, Dumbledore appeared in the doorway.

‘I hope I’m not interrupting,’ the aging headmaster said, he looked incredibly tired. ‘I heard the Lupins were visiting.’

Everyone sighed in relief and Rosaline eventually introduced Dumbledore to Amara, like everyone else, he commented on how gorgeous she was. Soon though, more pressing matters sprang to mind.

‘I am so sorry to ask this of any of you,’ he seemed genuinely sorry. ‘But I must ask that Hogwarts is afforded your protection tonight. I am taking Harry with me to retrieve something of value and I am concerned that tonight will be a good night for an attack.’

‘Who would attack the school at this time?’ Bill asked, Fleur notable worried at what her husband was being asked to do.

‘That I am uncertain of, but Severus has warned me several times that one may happen soon and it just so happens that tonight will be the perfect opportunity for anyone wishing to infiltrate the school.’ Dumbledore explained vaguely, he gave another warm smile to Amara. ‘She has your eyes Rosie, truly beautiful if you don’t mind my saying so.’

Rosaline just smiled, she was thinking about Hogwarts and how it needed her help.

‘We’ll go.’ Arthur said, giving Molly a quick kiss, Bill doing the same with Fleur. Rosaline handed Amara over to Molly and was about to leave behind Tonks.

‘Rosaline.’ Remus stopped her. ‘You need to stay here with Amara.’

‘What?!’

‘If there is an attack, I can’t lose you and Amara especially cannot lose her parents.’

‘What about you?! What makes you think I can do this on my own?’

‘I’m not arguing about this!’ Remus was final on the subject and followed Tonks towards the door. ‘I love you, I’ll come as soon as I can.’

Rosaline’s body flooded with a new pain that she hadn’t experienced before, she was so angry that Remus just left and ordered her to stay put when people’s lives could have been in danger.

‘It’s better this way Rosie.’ Molly and Fleur had been trying to comfort her for nearly an hour after they’d left, but it wasn’t working, all she could do was pace and think about how she could have been helping, no, how she should have been helping.

Rosaline picked up Amara and looked down at her shining green eyes. ‘I love you, Amara, but your dad is an absolute idiot. Unfortunately, he’s our idiot. Stay safe, I’ll be back soon.’ Rosaline kissed her daughter and without listening to anymore of Molly’s cries, she apparated to the school just in time to see the fighting break out.

Remus was battling with a large Death Eater and losing when he heard the all too familiar sounds of a pair of feet sprinting at an impossible pace towards him. Rosaline sent a powerful stunner towards the Death Eater and helped Arthur finish off the one he was fighting.

‘Rosaline!’ Remus shouted, but more Death Eater were running towards Tonks and presumably where Bill was fighting. Rosaline sprinted hard towards them ignoring Remus’s shouting. Before he could do anything else, he was dragged into another duel, one that found much easier to deal with.

He ran hard towards where Arthur was shouting for his son, something had happened. Greyback was running towards the entrance to the school and Remus froze for a moment, the flashing images of when he was a small boy and Greyback attacked him in his bed shot through his memory. Rosaline sent a few stunners his way as he ran from the school.

They got Bill to the hospital wing and it was suddenly evident that he’d been attacked by Greyback. Everyone was looking to Madam Pomfrey and Remus for advice, but he honestly wasn’t sure what would happen, he was mostly guessing and other things were taking his attention.

Rosaline had been with Tonks making sure the rest of the school was clear when they arrived through the hospital wing doors. She had a small cut on her cheek and Remus knew it would be killing her. He stood up to help her straight away, but much to his heartbreak, she turned away and sought help from one of the healers.

‘Rosaline.’ Remus felt the weight of what was coming before she even spoke.

‘Don’t you dare do that to me again.’ She hissed, he’d not heard the venom in her voice for so long, it almost broke him to hear it then. ‘You hear me, Remus? Don’t you dare walk away from me again, not after what you promised.’

‘Rosaline, I’m sorry.’ Remus pleaded with her, trying to calm her down while the healer fixed her cut. ‘But I couldn’t let you come here and get hurt, leaving Amara defenceless.’

‘If I hadn’t have come here, you might have been killed!’ Rosaline shouted, not caring that everyone was watching them. ‘What am I supposed to do then? What is our daughter supposed to then? Because I can’t do this on my own, I need you and now so does she, so you need to think about that before you walk away again!’

Rosaline downed the pain relief that she knew wouldn’t help and strode out of the castle and back to the Burrow. Not long afterwards, Molly and Fleur rushed in to see Bill and soon the news followed that Dumbledore had been murdered.

Remus was at a loss, how could Dumbledore be gone? He was the one person Remus trusted above everyone else, he was the one who told them how to defeat Voldemort, the one wizard Voldemort feared and now he was gone. The safety of his family was suddenly more important than it had ever felt before. Without Dumbledore around, how was he supposed to fight and protect Rosaline and Amara?

Once everything had calmed down, Molly had told him that Rosaline was on her way home after telling them what happened with Bill. Remus apparated straight home, he was dead on his feet and dragged his tired body through the door and upstairs.

Rosaline was asleep with Amara cradled next to her and her wand still in her hand. He thought about leaving them, but Rosaline would want to know about Dumbledore as soon as possible and he needed to apologise.

Remus carefully woke his wife and tried not to disturb Amara as he brought her into the hallway to tell her of Dumbledore’s passing. As much as he hadn’t wanted to wake his daughter, Rosaline’s crying woke her up regardless. Remus picked up his daughter and tried to soothe her, rubbing her back and rocking her back to sleep. He then went and sat on the floor with Rosaline and tried to do the same thing with her.

‘Rosaline, I’m so sorry.’ Remus felt his own tears get the better of him. He was so sick and tired of crying all the time. ‘You were right, I can’t just leave you like that, I can’t leave Amara like that… I promised I’d never leave or break a promise to you again and I meant it, but now I realise what it means and I’m going to do better.’

Rosaline sniffed against his chest and he could feel the old rigidity seeping into her joints and muscles, it was like holding that eighteen-year-old student he’d first met, not like the woman he’d fallen for and married.

They stayed on the floor mourning for a while until they were both tired and went to bed, knowing full well that one of them would have to get up to deal with Amara’s crying during the night.

[soxcietyy]

DollHouse

In a world where females are not commonly born you are kidnapped and taken to the kingdom of Valgore to be sold off to whoever can afford you. The General of the knights Yuta Okkotsu who isn’t sure if he wants a wife, takes you in but you arnt going to make his life easy by submitting yourself to him.

Tw: bad language, violence, drinking, beating, woman being mistreated, abuse, murder, rape, things that may trigger people.

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Yuta walked into his office, a dim office with a big desk set In front of a window. The smell of wood in the air. Sitting down behind his desk he sees a stack of papers waiting for him. Sighing heavily he started going through them. He had pushed back on his work for less than two days and he already had a big pile of problems. Most of it would be taxes, royal court duty's, favors and party invitations. But now that he had a wife she would hopefully at least help with the invitations. After skimming through papers for what seemed to be hours Haru came in with a cup of coffee. "Thank you Haru" Yuta says with a tired voice as he lifted the cup to his face. Taking in the smell of pure dark coffee.

The butler gives him a slight nod. "Master Okkotsu the seamstress was here but I sent her away. I told her to come tomorrow due to the fact the my lady was already asleep." Haru said standing at the door.

"Ah good thank you, Haru did you also lock all the windows and exits like I told you to?" Yuta asks as he signs his signature with black ink on a paper. His hand moving swiftly due to him doing it over thousands of times. Haru nods as he closes the door so nobody would listen in. Usually the butlers worked during the night and not the day because during the day there was nothing to do or take care of. That was because Yuta would work throughout the day and come back home to stay up at night. His eye bags showing the results of his poor sleeping  schedule.

"I see your having difficulties with your Lady. I know it isn't my place but would you like some advice?"

Yuta put his papers down asserting his full attention to him, "of course, I totally forgot you are married Haru."

Haru chuckles knowing his master was very forgetful due to his busy schedule.

"Woman are smarter than you think. when I first got my wife she was very timid. But when we eventually came together she told me about how the female mind works. She told me every woman are deadly afraid of their husbands! Because they don't know them yet of course. But instead of crying they come up with a plan. Seduce the man into doing what they want or escape. I can see lady is very set on escaping. You need to show her your not a bad person. Do small gestures. They appreciate the smaller ones more than the bigger." Haru said.

Yuta sat there taking everything in. Woman are smart, which he found out very early on that his wife thought of herself as an actor. Their scared, which he didn't really see that from you. It looks more like your ready to fight him on sight. And lastly doing small gestures. Gojo had told him to get her flowers randomly. He even recommended the best shops for clothes, soaps, food, and flowers. Maybe getting you to be okay with him would be easy. Yuta thanked Haru for the advice he needed. Hopefully this would be an eye opener for him. Once again he continued to work untip he couldn't keep his head up anymore. His eyes dropping down and his head laying in his arms until he fell asleep.

Morning came and Yuta found himself still in his office. Not like he expected to be in bed, he never was.

After going through his morning routine he entered his room to you still asleep. You laid in his bed gripping the blanket tightly over you due to it being a cold morning. You looked calm and innocent like that. It was Something he hadn't see since that night at the maiden estate. You crying in his arm hitting him making him seem like the bad guy. He hoped to change that point of view of him soon. Your hair was messy and in your face. With his hand he moved a few strands of hair and pushed it to the back of your ear. Walking to the bed side table he pinned his medals on his suit. He was getting ready for work even if he had three hours of sleep. That was his normal schedule after all.

He needed to wake you up before he left though. Not wanting to scare you he opened his mouth to call your name but then it hit him. He didn't even know your name. What a terrible person he was for not learning something so basic. It was going to be weird asking for your name now. He couldn't bring himself to ask something like to you so instead he came up with something else. Haru came in with a bell ringing it for you to wake up. And when you did he brought you breakfast in bed. Yuta had asked him to bring you eggs and sausage with a piece of bread on the side. It was his preferred breakfast after all.

Then came in Yuta in his uniform. He looked at to your direction with a small smile. "Good morning Angel I'm about to head to work for the day." He said as he approached you taking a seat on the bed. You didn't respond to him though instead you began to eat. "The seamstress will be coming in a few and you'll be taken to buy jewelry by Megumi. I do need your to write your name on this paper though. I'm going to buy something and I want your name to be spelled correctly." He says handing you the pen and paper.

"Of course my lovely husband I'll give it to you when you say my name. You haven't said it once since you met me." She says hiding her smile behind the paper. Yuta mentally slaps himself seeing this woman was smarter than he thought. "My angel what's the meaning of this? I need to leave before I'm late. Can you write your name down?" Yuta said getting up.

But his wife didn't budge. She looked at him with sharp cat eyes. Waiting for him to give in.

"Find I don't know your name, I didn't think of asking until now." He gave in.

"y/n Okkotsu," she said making his heart race a bit. He couldn't process the fact that a female just added his last name to hers like that. Someone that looked so elegant yet fragile at the same time. "I'm Yu-"

"Yuta Okkotsu" she interrupts him.

She must of learned his name yesterday. Yuta gives a light nod and walk out . "I'll see you later at dinner." He said as he left. He felt a bit embarrassed seeing how he was failing miserably already. At least you didn't try escaping. That must be progress.

At the castle he fought in the training grounds with his men. Dodging ever hit they swung. You could hear how the swords clinging with each hit. You could see how the dust from the dirt covered them with all the movements they made. With one blow Yuta knocked his fellow friend onto the ground. "You have to keep your stance." Yuta said to Itadori.

Itadori opened his mouth showing his hot breath in the air. "It's kind of hard when it's freezing." He said rubbing his hands together. Yuta laughed helping his friend up. Ever since Gojo resigned from general he told him to take care of his other student Itadori. It was something he couldn't simplify refuse. Gojo had done so much for him after all. "I heard you have a wife now. How is she like? " itadori brushed the dust off his clothes. "She's very determined." Yuta said. He wasn't lying at all his wife was very determined, determined on making him look like a fool. Which is something that sounded bad if he said it out loud. Back at the house Gojo told him to let her settle down and by then she wouldn't want to leave your side. Hopefully he knew what he was talking about.

"I'll also look for a wife in the future but for now I'm going to save up. I need a big house first no?" Itadori said with a bright smile. Yuta put his hand on the younger ones shoulder, "I don't think it matters. They will love you for you."

"General!" Someone yelled from across the training ground. Yuta turned around to see Inumaki running to him. Both of the boys approached him waiting to hear what he had to say.

"P-princess Rika is calling for you. She's at the center guarden." Inumaki panted. Yuta quickly drew his sword in its sleeve, he waved them goodbye as he started to run. If Inumaki was sent to him running then it should be an emergency.

"Princess?" Yuta says as he entered the garden area. The smell of roses hit him. Slowly looking up he saw her sitting in a chair looking at the flowers. Roses of different shades of red bloomed around her. Butterfly's flying around the area. As he walked towards her the wind blew making his hair messy. Her dress flew in the air. It almost felt like he was meeting an angel. She turned to look at him and a smile grew on her face. "Yuta," she said softly calling him to her. He couldn't help but obey her, she was the princess after all. Sitting down she pushed a tea cup toward him. "Sorry princess but I'm currently working, I can't sit for long." Yuta said before she could say anything. If he didn't he would be stuck here listening to her all day.

"Of course why wouldn't the general be busy. Drink up, let's have a small conversation." She said taking a sip from her own cup. "I heard you have a wife now. Is she pretty? Is she better than any other girl you met?" She asks closing her eyes.

"She's very beautiful and of course she's better she's my wife." Yuta said watching as Rika began choking on her drink. He quickly stood up and began patting her back. "Carefully princess," he said waiting for her to calm down. "Wife? When did you get married?" She asks confused wiping her mouth with her glove. "Only royals have a marriage ceremony Rika." Yuta says tilting his head. Everyone knew that it was basically common sense. Then again Rika was known for not caring for anyone but herself. Some people called her selfish. "Thank you for the tea but I'm afraid I have to go. I only come thinking it was an emergency but it seems it's not." Yuta said backing away. It looked like she wanted to retaliate but she didn't. Yuta bowed and excused himself. She watched as he walked away disappearing in the distance. Rika gripped her cup tightly causing it to break. A single tear falling from her face. "It should of been me," she whispered.

Tags 🏷: @hannya-exists @pinkraindropsfell @halparkebitch

[mediocre-writerr]

history has it eyes on you [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x fem reader

requested by anon: Love your JJ fics ❤️❤️ I was hoping could you do another one where the reader is somewhat new to the BAU and is either dating or has a thing with JJ. But the reader is known for doing these heroic and kinda reckless acts that ends up saving the victims. And while everyone in the bureau thinks that she's an absolute badass and incredible at her job JJ can't help but love and hate it. She loves it as she's amazing at her job and always ends up saving them but she hates how she always seems to be in the line of fire and in danger. After one too many close calls JJ kinda loses it on the reader.

*not my gif*

You were nineteen when you joined the academy. However, once you got the job you were longing for you were still a bright young prospect at twenty two. The youngest on the team, even younger than boy genius. 

You always had dreams of dying like a martyr. The bravest thing you thought that anyone could do was sacrifice themself for the ones they love the most. Sure, that’s not the healthiest thing in the entire world, but it was everything to you. 

“Have you guys heard that we’re getting a new member?” Garcia asked as her, Prentiss, and JJ walked into the bureau with their coffees in hand.

Prentiss nodded, “Heard they were a part of the Navy Seals for awhile. They were known as the youngest on that squad and they’re even younger than Reid,” 

“Really?” JJ asked, slightly shocked that someone is younger than Reid. 

Hotch walked out of his office as the rest of the team gathered by their desks, you walked right behind him, his taller figuring covering you from the view of the rest of the team.

Hotch cleared his throat before looking at all of them, “I’d like to formally introduce you guys to the newest member of the team, Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” 

You emerged from behind Hotch and you gave all of them an awkward wave. Until your eyes fell onto a pair of familiar blue ones. Her face was calm and collected, but you could tell by her eyes that she was internally freaking out.

You tried to fight off a smile that was forming on your face at the sight of your old flame back in the days of Afghanistan. But by the look on her face, you knew no one else really knew of her Afghanistan days.

Afghanistan wasn’t all bad. Sure you were put there to try and take down Bin Laden, but the city that was surrounded by war was absolutely beautiful. All of the architecture and the culture, even the people. 

This was one of the days where you completely forgot that you were in the middle of a war. JJ was standing on the balcony in the city of Kabul, the capitol of Afghanistan. The sun was setting behind her as you handed her a glass of wine.

It’s illegal to drink there, but as long as no one saw you called it a win. You stood behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. You hooked your chin onto her shoulder as you kissed her rosy cheeks. 

“This is nice,” she mumbled and you hummed in response.

“I agree. You make this whole mission so much more bearable,” you whispered.

Penelope ran over to you and gave you a big hug, “Hi! I’m Penelope Garcia, the best tech out there!” 

You laughed softly, hugging her back, “Hi!” 

Once you pulled away, you were introduced one by one to each of the team members. Until you eventually were stopped at the beautiful blonde you’ve known worlds ago. 

You extended your hand out to her, meeting her bright blue eyes. You raised your eyebrows up at her, “Y/N Y/L/N,” you formally introduced.

She hesitated before grabbing your hand, the familiar spark electrocuting your body and you could tell that she felt it too, “Jennifer Jareau,”

“I like your eyes, they’re very blue, did you know that?” you told her, recalling your first ever conversation.

JJ just gave a tight lipped smile before nodding, “Yeah, well, I kind of had them my whole life so I think I know that they’re blue,” 

“Right,” 

You were suited up in your gear as your commander walked you over to the representative from the state department. You climbed high in the rankings with all of your hard work and selflessness, you became a lieutenant commander. 

“Lieutenant commander Y/L/N, this is our state department liaison Jennifer Jareau. She will be helping assist us in communication with some of the hostages,” your commander introduced the two of you and you nodded.

You stuck out your hand and smiled at her softly, “Y/N Y/L/N,” 

She grabbed your hand, smiling back, “Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ for short,” 

“Well JJ, I like your eyes. They’re very blue, did you know that?” you asked, awkwardly. You mentally face palmed yourself, realizing that you were getting nervous around the beautiful blonde.

JJ laughed at your awkwardness before nodding, “Yeah, well, I kind of had them my whole life so I think I know that they’re blue,” 

“Right,” you drew out, mentally face palming yourself harder than before. 

You let out a soft chuckle before finally dropping her hand. You knew in a room full of profilers that they would notice if a friendly handshake lasted too long, no matter how hard you didn’t want to lose her touch. 

That was the only interaction the two of you had the entire case. Most of the time you were partnered up with Prentiss. She had more experience than JJ as a profiler since JJ was a liaison first. 

For your first case, you impressed them all with how selfless you were. You would push yourself in front of the rest of the team when confronting an unsub. You would always be the one talking them down as their gun was pointed right at you. 

“Jimmy Barnes, put the gun down,” you ordered, as he held the girl by gun point, “I said, put it down!” 

He shook his head, “No! She needs to die! I need to finish what I started!” he yelled.

Jimmy Barnes, your first ever unsub was ironically going after girls who matched your description. He became so obsessed with a video game that he altered it with reality. The villain in the game looking surprisingly like you.

“Then kill me instead, you’ll win the game if you let her go and kill me,” you offered.

You could feel JJ’s eyes on you and the rest of the team gave you a quick glance before going to look back at Jimmy. For a split second you weren’t sure, what he was gonna do until he eventually threw the hostage towards Rossi, before grabbing you in the process.

He thought he had a good grip on you, but you were a Navy Seal, you know how to get out of a hold or two. Before he could pull the trigger, you elbowed his groin and threw him onto the floor. 

Jimmy landed on his stomach with a hard thump, you straddled his back before  putting him in handcuffs, “Jimmy Barnes, you are under arrest for the murders of Nicole Watkins, Macy Martin, and Leah Butler,” you told him, listing all of his rights. 

Once you got back on the jet, your eyes drifted over to JJ who was staring out of the window. You just kept staring, trying to profile her from afar. You noticed that there was no ring on her finger yet, so that was a plus. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t dating anyone.

Morgan snapped you out of your trance, “That was a brave thing you did out there. He could’ve easily just shot you dead before you could even make a move,” 

“Yeah, but it saved the girl didn’t it?” you fired back and from the corner of your eye you could see JJ let out a sigh, shaking her head. 

“It did, you’re gonna be a great part of this team!” Morgan patted your shoulder before taking a seat next to Reid. 

You took this as an opportunity to get some shut eye on the flight back to Quantico. And your slumber seemed to drift back to you and JJ. 

The two of you were tangled in the sheets of the hard mattress. The hot air of Afghanistan causing your already sweating bodies to become more sticky. JJ was playing with your hair as her head rested on your chest. 

“This is very unprofessional,” she whispered.

You chuckled softly before nodding, “Well no one has to know what we do,” you whispered back, “But if anyone were to walk into my tent they’d see your clothes all over the floor,” 

She lifted her head slightly before seeing your clothes scattered all over it. She let out a content sight before putting her head back down.

“If I'm being honest, I don’t think I’d care,” she said, kissing your jawline. 

You exaggerated a gasp, “Did the Jennifer Jareau just say she wouldn’t care if someone caught us breaking the rules?!” 

“I wouldn’t care because I’m in love with you,” 

Your ears perked up at those five words, “I’m in love with you too,” you whispered, leaning down to attach your lips together.

The more you went on cases with the team, the more reckless (well you’d like to call it heroic) you’ve become. You would run into a hostage situation with an aggressive unsub without a bulletproof vest or weapon. 

You thought that you would get a talking to from Hotch about being so reckless, but he never did. The others rarely thought anything of it and just thought you were an absolute badass. Well, everyone but JJ, you could tell your need to constantly be the hero was getting under her skin a little. 

You just didn’t think she’d care anymore. She barely interacted with you and when you did they were short professional conversations. Even when you went out with the team, she wouldn’t interact with you.

“So, what’s going on with JJ?” Morgan asked you as you and the team were flying out to Tacoma, Washington. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Nothing,” 

He hummed, “Well you’re staring at JJ like you’re in a romcom and just lost the love of your life. So what’s going on? You know you can talk to me,” 

Morgan had become like an older brother figure to you. He was the closest person to you on the team and you knew he could trust him with anything.

“Well, JJ and I knew each other awhile ago. We had a thing and it was really good, but you know, nothing lasts forever,” you confined in him and he nodded.

“That’s why she’s avoiding you like the plague?” he asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know. It was a long time ago and she broke things off with me. So, I don’t understand why she’s avoiding me. If anything it should be the other way around,” 

“I would just try to talk to her. Obviously, something’s still bugging her if she’s avoiding you this much. Just talk to her,” he suggested and you nodded. 

You wanted to talk to JJ the entire case, but the unsub shortened his kill time and struck back to back. So, you were working twice as hard and twice as fast to stop them. 

And when you did find them let’s just say, you had to act quick. The unsub set his own house on fire with him and the hostage family inside of it. Hotch had called the fire department, but they wouldn’t get there for another ten minutes.

There was no way that the family would survive that. The smoke inhalation. The fire spreading quickly. Before any of the team could even react, you were off and running in to a burning building. 

“Y/N!” you heard JJ shout, but it was too late you were already in the building. 

The unsub was standing there with a sinister smirk on your face and just as he was about to attack you, you sent a bullet through his shoulder. He fell onto the floor in pain. 

The family of three were coughing up a storm. You could feel the smoke already start to fill your lungs. You gestured for the family to start running out of the house. 

“My daughter is stuck under there! You need to get her out of here!” the father yelled and you nodded.

“I’ll save her, you guys need to leave now!” you screamed. 

“I’m not leaving-” the mom begins to protest, but you cut her off.

“I promise I’ll get her out of here, but if you don’t leave she’s not going to have anyone there to take care of her!” you exclaimed. Without another word they run out of the building. You looked at the little girl who was stuck behind a piece of broken ceiling. 

You smiled at the girl who just seemed numb and you grabbed her arm, “Hi kiddo,” you finally got out between coughs, “My name’s Y/N and I’m here to save you okay? You’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Do you mind if I touch you and help you out?” 

She nodded without another word. You started coughing uncontrollably before you finally held her in your arms. 

JJ was pacing back and forth from outside. Her thoughts spinning as she just watched you run into a burning building. Two figures started rushing out of the building. JJ and Morgan ran towards the couple, leading them towards the ambulance.

“Where’s the agent who went in to help you?” JJ asked, frantically. 

“She’s still in there. She’s helping our daughter, she was stuck. She promised that she’d save her,” the mother told JJ.

Right as she finished her sentence, there was huge crash. Everyone’s head turned back to the house to see the roof caved in and the building was falling apart. 

“Y/N,” JJ whispered before raising her voice, screaming out your name uncontrollably, “Y/N!”

Her mind flashed back to Afghanistan, when the good thing the two of you had going turned sour. 

It was dark out and you, JJ, and some of trying to search an abandoned compound that you assumed the Talibans were using to help create bombs. You sensed a slight tension against your shin. 

It felt like what would happen if you rubbed your shin against a bush. But there was no shrubbery around the group, only grass and dirt. At the same time there was a pinning noise and that was the only thing you could hear. 

You had walked into a tripwire, looking down you saw the primed grenade, “Grenade! Take cover!” you yelled to the rest of your team.

You don’t know why you did what you did. Maybe it was because you felt responsible for what was about to happen. You pushed JJ towards the rest of the group as one of your fellow soldiers pulled her behind the concrete building.

You threw off your backpack and jammed it into the grenade, before lying next to it in fetal position to block the explosion from expanding towards them. You were just counting down, waiting for the consequences. 

5, 4, 3, 2,1, you counted and your whole body relaxed as the thought that maybe the bomb was a dud crossed your mind. But just as you relaxed it blew up in front of you. 

“Y/N!” JJ screamed. 

The orange sparks and the smoke cleared, but you knew you were still alive. You were so disoriented, so disoriented to the point where you didn’t even notice that you were blasted so much further away from where you originally laid. 

JJ and the patrol medic ran over to you. She put her hands on my face and noticed how disoriented you were. JJ noticed the blood pouring down your nose and ears. 

“Y/N, I need you to stay with me,” JJ told you, drawing figures on your bloody cheeks, “The doctor’s checking you out, I need you to stay awake, okay? Please, for me,” her voice cracked. 

No matter how hard you tried, your eyes just seemed to shut and you couldn’t open them again.

“No!” JJ screamed as she continued to watch the house burn down in flames. 

Tears were flowing down her cheeks. The trauma of Afghanistan and the thought of losing you flooded her mind. She always wondered why her relationships with people after you never worked. 

She made excuses for herself. The idea that her job as a profiler took up too much of her time. Or the guys or girls she dated were just bad seeds. But that wasn’t the idea. It was the idea that she was still so in love with you, maybe even waiting for the day she’ll get you back. 

JJ looked around the rest of your team. Reid was trying his best to fight off tears, but you could hear him sniffling. He always thought of you as one of his best friends. You related to him more than anyone because of how young you were. 

Morgan and Prentiss stood up tall and were staying strong. But JJ could tell from a mile away that it was getting harder every second that was going by. Prentiss thought of you as a little prodigy, you reminded her of a young Prentiss, and all she wanted to do was protect you even though she knew you didn’t need it. 

Then there was Hotch who stood there emotionless, but he was just trying to actually stay strong for the team. Hotch knew that you were the reckless type, it didn’t take a profiler to notice that. 

The last thing he said to you before he introduced you to the team was, “I see that you want to fight, you’ve got this hunger. I was just like you when I was younger, head full of fantasies of dying like a martyr. Just remember, dying is easy, living is harder.” 

But then they saw a figure emerge from the smoke. The little girl you were carrying was unconscious in your arms. You were coughing up a storm as you crashed onto the lawn. 

The team and paramedics ran towards you. JJ cupped your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open and closed. The smoke that was filling your lungs, making it hard to breathe. The paramedics through an oxygen mask on your face as they tried to help you breathe.

You pulled it off really quick, “Y/N! Put the oxygen mask back on!” JJ scolded you.

You were coughing up a storm as you finally got out what you said between your coughs, “I’m still in love with you,” you told her.

She was about to respond when you started seizing on the ground. Hotch pushed the team out of the way so the paramedics could do their job.

JJ’s mine still drifted back to Afghanistan as she watched them drag you to the hospital. It reminded her of when they brought you back to the med camp after the explosion. The fear settling into her bones that she might not ever see you again.

When you were finally more stable to understand what was going on around you, you were in the med tent of the camp. JJ was sitting next to you with her hands intertwined with yours.

You moved slightly and her head shot up to look at you, “How bad is it?” 

“Your eardrums are perforated, but there’s suspected to be no lasting damage.Your backpack and body armor absorbed most of the damage. You know the doctors say you’re lucky, but I just say you’re stupid,” she told you and you looked at her with furrow brows. 

“That was a little harsh,” you muttered.

She rolled her eyes, “What you did was stupid! It was stupid and reckless! I almost lost you today because of how stupid you were being!” 

“It was heroic!” you screamed. It didn't matter to you that your head was still pounding and your ears were ringing from the explosion, but you were being attacked after you just woke up.

“You don’t see the point! I almost lost you! There are people who care about you! I care about you and if I lost you today I don’t know what I would’ve done!” she screamed, “So I need you to promise me that this isn’t going to happen again. That you’ll start being more careful and thinking more without doing,” 

You sat there in silence unsure of what to say, “I can’t promise that,” you whispered after so many minutes. 

She bit her lip, removing her hand from yours. JJ stood up and started packing up the things that she had in the tent, “Then I can’t do this. If you’re not going to even respect a simple decision as to being less reckless for your own safety, then I can’t do this. I don’t think that what I’m asking is too hard, but I guess it is,” 

“JJ,” you whispered, but it was too late she was already gone.

She didn't come to visit you after that. As you sat there in your own silence, you realized that you made a mistake. You wanted to talk to her, but every time you asked someone to grab her she would always be busy or she’d just never come. 

Once you were finally well enough to be discharged from med tent and back to your own, it was too late. There was a little note left on the hard mattress the two of you once shared.

“Y/N, I’ve decided to leave. Another state department liaison is coming to replace me. I just can’t stay and watch you throw your life on the line anymore. Maybe in another world, but just not this one- JJ,” the note read and you let out a groan of frustration before falling onto the mattress.

You woke up from your seizure to see JJ sitting the corner of the room. She was curled up in the faux leather seat as she was sleeping peacefully. Your mouth felt dry as you reached over to grab the water that sat on the bedside table. 

All your stirring around caused JJ to wake up, her head shooting over to you to make sure you were okay. You looked at her softly and smiled, “How’s the little girl?”

“Safe and recovering,” she answered shortly.

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

“They’re in the waiting room. I tried to get them to go home, but they insisted on staying,” she mentioned and you smiled softly.

You could tell she was holding back from what she was going to say, so you let out a sigh, “Whatever you’re holding back, just get it out,” 

“That was stupid of you,” she said sternly, reminding you of your very last conversation before you met her again, “You almost died again! And I had to be there to witness it again!”

“I saved a family’s life today,” you told her, your voice dry, but just as stern. 

“But at what cost? Risking your own?!” she exclaimed and you pinched the bridge of your nose, putting your head down, “It was stupid!”

“Can you stop saying that?! It was brave and heroic! Why can’t you just be accepting about it like everyone else?!” you yelled back.

“There it is again! With your heroic bullshit!” she threw her hands up in frustration, walking closer to your bed, “What’s the big deal about it?” 

“I need to be remembered! I need to have my name in books and you know sacrificing yourself and saving as many people as possible gets you there! My family’s legacy is shot, I need to make a legacy of mine and if this is the way to do it then so be it! I need to be a hero, so I can be loved since my parents never did!” you finally exploded, telling her all the reasons why you are the way you are.

“You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to be loved!” she argued.

You scoffed, “Well, apparently I do since the only time you’ve seemed to want to talk to me since I’ve joined the team is when I’m recovering from almost dying. I don’t understand why you’re so angry at me right now, you broke up with me. You left me to recover from the bomb on my own! So tell me, why do you even care?!” 

“Because I’m still in love with you!” she finally screamed and your eyes softened.

“You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to be a hero or loved because in my eyes you’re already a hero. I care because the thought of living the rest of my life without you kills me. Living my life without you the last few years was the time I felt numb. Then you came back and I wanted to give us a shot again, but I was scared,” she whispered.

“Scared about what?” you asked.

“You were still as reckless as ever. You are still so obsessed with getting your name in the history books that you don’t care who you hurt in the process. I was scared that if I got too attached that one day you’d just die,” she told you, “At least with breaking up with you, I knew you were still alive and I didn’t lose you forever,”

There was a moment of silence before she spoke up again, “You don’t understand that you risking your life out like that hurts the people who love and care about. You don’t need to have millions of people know your name, all you need are the ones who matter most to you and you don’t understand that. I love how protective and heroic you are, but I hate it more. The hate overcomes the love,” 

You reached your hand out for her to come closer. You intertwined your fingers together before placing a kiss to the top of her hand. She had tears threatening to pour down her face.

You brushed a strand of her blonde hair from behind her ear before you cupped her cheeks softly, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I didn’t know how badly my acts affected you. I wish that we talked about this when I was still stationed, maybe I could’ve knocked some sense into myself and we’d still be together,”

“But I’d really like a second chance JJ,” you whispered shyly, the fear of rejection overtaking your promise, “I’ll make that promise I should’ve made ages ago. Be less reckless, be a hero in smaller less dramatic ways. But I also understand if you don’t, I know I’m fucked in the head,” 

JJ leaned her forehead on top of yours before kissing you softly, “One more chance,” she whispered, “No more bombs, or gunmen, or fires,”

You kissed her once more, “I just hope I can be the hero that you deserve, the right kind of hero,” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you won’t be,” 

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

The Mukamis, Tsukinamis, and Kino reacting to their s/o waking up from a terrible accident with no memories

These oneshots are x readers but also include the Diaboys’ perspective

Trigger warning: memory loss

Sakamaki brothers version linked at the end!

——————————————————————

Ruki

——-

Ruki’s face gave away nothing, he was stoic as always, but his heart felt like it was being squeezed in some horrible machine. He was only able to hold his tears back due to years of hardening himself. You groaned and woke up. Ruki gasped in relief. You shifted on your side and Ruki smiled. “You’re alright. Don’t ever worry your master again.” The last sentence was meant to be scolding, but it came out vulnerable and desperate, his tone making it clear he was doing his best not to cry, though a few tears were already falling down his cheeks. You pushed yourself up on your elbows. “Master? I’m sorry, who are you?” You asked. Ruki’s body turned colder than ever, cold as ice. Shock filled his eyes before he narrowed them. “Your master is not in the mood for games.” You had to be playing with him. Right? “No, no, I don’t know you.” Fear entered your face as you realized something scarier. “I don’t even know me!” You couldn’t have forgotten him…he was your master, your lover…he was sure…he was sure he’d given you the best treatment possible. How could he fail this badly? He couldn’t lose another person he loved, his heart would break. But with you forgetting him….the cracks in his heart that had been mending, thanks to you, were starting to open again.

Kou

——-

“C’mon Kitten. Please wake up.” Kou begged you quietly, his bottom lip quivering, tears sliding down his cheeks. You groaned and sat up. Kou flung himself onto you and hugged you tightly. “You’re okay!” He cried. You blinked. “Who are you?” You asked. Kou pulled back, horror on his face. “What do you mean? It’s Kou.” You stared at him blankly. Kou’s chest felt heavy, like it had been filled with lead. He tried to keep his calm, desperately trying to stifle his hyperventilating. “Ha…I know I’ve pranked you in the past, but now’s not the time, Little Masa-Kitty.” Kou said, a weak smile on his face. “No, I really don’t know you.” Kou felt a panic attack coming on. “No…how could…that can’t be…” Kou ran away, hyperventilating and gasping for air. He sobbed. This couldn’t be happening.

Yuma

———

“Eve…will be okay…right, Ruki…?” Azusa asked behind Yuma, who was crouching down near your bed. “I’m…not sure.” Ruki said quietly. “Shut the hell up! You don’t know that!” Yuma roared. He turned back to you. “She’ll wake up.” He growled. “She will.” And you did, your eyelids fluttered open and Yuma helped you into a sitting position. You shook your head. “Where am I?” “You’re in your home, Sow.” Yuma said to you, tears of relief sliding down his cheeks. “Nn…who are you guys?” You asked. Yuma’s eyes widened in horror while Ruki’s face became downcast. He had known from the start your memories would be gone. An accident like that… “No, Sow, no, you can’t…we’re not…” Yuma began to cry. He had lost his memories before in his life. But that had never been as painful as knowing you lost yours.

Azusa

———-

“Eve…can you…wake up…please…?” Azusa asked you, as you laid on the bed unconscious. Hours passed and Azusa refused to fall asleep. Finally, you woke up. “Who are you? Where am I?” You asked. “Eve…doesn’t remember…?” Azusa asked you. You shook your head. “My name is Eve…?” “My Eve…” Azusa said quietly, his voice heartbroken. “I’m sorry.” You told him. “It’s my fault…Eve…I couldn’t…protect you…” Azusa began to cry. You began to cry too. For Azusa, for your lost memories, for everything.

Carla

———

A king cannot be without his queen. And Carla…Carla could not be without you. He stroked your hair the way you often stroked his. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Wake up.” He murmured against your skin. You did, sitting up and holding your head in discomfort. Carla’s eyes filled with tears but he managed to compose himself before you turned to him. “Who…who are you?” You asked. Carla’s throat turned dry. “What do you mean? You know me, you’re my queen!” “I’m a queen?” You really…had forgotten him? He gripped your hands in his. “You haven’t…forgotten me…? No, you couldn’t have.” “I think I forgot myself too.” You said quietly, horrorstruck as you realized you had no idea who you were. You began to cry and Carla wrapped you in his arms. “I’ll fix this.” Carla said, his voice shaky. “I will. I’m a founder, we can do anything.”

Shin

——-

Some of Shin’s wolves were curled up besides you. They had become very fond of you. Tears dropped out of Shin’s single eye. He hugged you close, laying in bed with you. “Huh? Where am I? Who are you?” Surprised you had woken up while he was crying, Shin sat up adruptly. “Why are you crying? Why are we in a bed together???” Shin pounced on you, hugging you tightly. You tensed up, unsure of what to do. Then you gasped and Shin pulled away. “Wolves!” You said, shocked. “You know them. You love them.” Shin tried to remind you. “I don’t.” You said, shaking your head. “I…don’t.” “How…? Did the accident…?” “I was in accident?” You asked, touching your forehead. Judging by how horrible you felt, that wasn’t hard to believe. “Maybe…” A lump formed in Shin’s throat and he began to cry. “Maybe Big Brother…can fix this.”

Kino

——-

He couldn’t lose you. Besides Yuri, you were only one who ever saw him, recognized him. You made him a better person and he loved you. But when you woke up and asked him who he was, Kino’s heart broke again. He sobbed and you sobbed with him, both mourning your loss of memories. Why bother loving when it lead to pain? Kino, thought. But he still loved you, more than anything. He’d find a way to bring your memories back. He had to. For both your sakes.

——————————————————————

[cloudenthusiast2]

To be a human - Scaramouche x reader - Part 5

You knew committing to a relationship with Scaramouche would be no easy task but you loved him dearly and unlike others, you believed he wasn't evil. But as a mortal and the devoted protector of your village you were too much of a good person, too much of a human compared to him and your differences slowly start to show.

Previous: Part 4

Length: not too long:)

Trigger warnings: blood, fighting

You slowly opened your eyes.

The clouds that were orange and pink not so long ago now had turned dark along with the sky.

You've just realised how long you have been sitting on the cliff.

The chilly weather suddenly felt genuinely cold and a shiver ran down your spine. You wore light clothes not suited for a night in Liuye's mountains.

'I should start heading back' you thought. But you didn't move.

A few days have passed since Scaramouche left but it still felt like the wound he caused was wide open. You avoided every interaction with others and luckily they were considerate enough to let you be. No one gave you requests or tasks, they dealt with their problems themselves so you could be alone for a while.

A little guilt stung your chest. You said you would always protect them yet you were selfish enough to only think about yourself for days.

On the other hand, you also felt a little burnout. You still loved the village as much as you used to - maybe even more, now that it was the only thing left that you cared about - but you didn't want to go back to your previous way of living. Even though Scaramouche wasn't a part of your daily routine, everything felt so empty without him. Just thinking about him made you smile any time and you could always look forward to his visits. And when he was actually there, he made everything feel shiny and wonderful.

He sure was the grumpiest man but that just made his soft moment worth even more. How delighted you felt when he laughed at your stupid jokes or gave you a smile that wasn't teasing or (too) smug. When he first held your hand you couldn't stop grinning for days.

You let out a quiet chuckle as you remembered your beautiful memories together. For a few seconds the grief was gone with your smile but when it finally faded away the sorrow became even sharper in your heart.

But it actually wasn't that painful any more. It still hurt really deeply but now you could at least think of the benefits of the new situation.

Something that you always hated about being with Scara was that the village lived in a low-key but constant fear. They were all afraid of the fatui. And for a good reason, as you realised after their last visit.

Now you could at least keep them more safe. They didn't have to be afraid of your lover and his power any more.

You stared at the dark sky one last time then shook your head. You stood up, getting ready to head back to the village but your mind was still invaded by thoughts of Scara.

The rocks under your shoes jingled as you took a step forward.

Another step, another sound of them tinkling together.

Another step and a scream.

You flinched and immediately glanced at the rocks. But they weren't the ones making the desperate sound.

You stared in front of you, your mind numb and empty without any thoughts.

Another scream. Human voices strengthening and getting louder and louder in the distance.

You looked up slowly, turning your gaze to where the village was. It was pitch black. Until red dots started lighting up.

'Oh no' you whispered to yourself.

The realisation hit you and your whole body froze for a moment.

'Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no...'

You finally moved, grabbing your polearm off your back. Then you started running.

There was no time to safely climb down on the mountainside. You threw yourself off the cliff, slashing through the cold air and landing on your weapon. Running and jumping again like your whole life depended on it.

It probably did. The village was the only thing you wanted to live for after Scaramouche left.

Terrible guilt stabbed your heart. You couldn't believe you neglected the place and people you once swore to protect. You couldn't believe you actually forgot about them and selfishly only cared about your wounds even though they needed you.

And now they were attacked.

Fear crawled up on your spine as you jumped up from a cliff. You were pretty close to the village now.

Out of breath, you heart beating at a crazy speed but you were ready to take any monsters down.

You landed on your spear, slipped and fell painfully. But you were up on your feet in a blink of an eye, sprinting again.

The village was in a worse situation than you had imagined.

You ran through the gates and stopped, looking around to see where your help was needed the most.

It was needed everywhere.

Your eyes grew wide open.

The houses were on fire, burning and lighting up the night. People were running around in chaos, monsters chasing them. Abbys mages sent whole blaze bombs after them. They set everything on fire.

An abandoned child crying on the stairs. Her father fighting a mitachurl with a single hack. Mothers desperately trying to find their family.

The blood red flames reflected in your eyes as you stood there, numbed by the terrifying destruction.

You moved on your own as you clenched your fist around the spear.

You jumped at the speed of the light. One moment you were still standing under the gates and the next you flashed your way through a group of hilichurls.

There were just corpses left behind in your way.

An old man cried for your help when he saw you. He was trying to protect his house from an abyss mage.

You landed behind the monster. It heard the noise and tried to turn around.

But before it could've even moved an inch, your whole body strained then let loose. Hydro bursting out of your veins, it broke through the mage's shield in an instant.

It fell but never reached the ground. Your spear cut through it in mid-air.

'Thank you!' The old man panted, his entire body trembling. 'I...'

'Leave the village!' You yelled through the discord of screams and roars. 'Go to the bamboo forest!'

'But my house...'

'Leave. Now.' You ordered in a way that it was impossible to disobey.

Then you moved on.

Your aura was filled with tense hydro vibrating in the dark. It strangled the monsters with one touch but suffocated you as well.

But you didn't feel the pain at all. Everything inside you focused on the fighting and precise killing. You flashed from one side of the village to another, trying to save the people you swore to protect.

But even though your strength was almost non-human in these minutes of crisis it still felt incredibly lacking.

The whole village was on fire at this point. The abyss mages did not care about their puppets, they burned hilichurls as well as people.

Because there were so many of them.

You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and looked around desperately. There were so many monsters. And so many people you still needed to save.

The heat was unbearable. Sweatdrops streamed down your face despite the constant hydro aura surrounding you.

Suddenly the ground started shaking and you nearly fell over.

A lawachurl slammed his fists down. It let out a huge roar and turned to the closest person to it.

A frightened cry left your lips as you recognised the tiny figure.

Little Yu.

She rose her arms, shielding something behind her. She seemed almost fearless as she looked straight into the gigantic monster's eyes. But it was still a ridiculous try to stop the lawachurl.

It lifted its fists into the air, getting ready to cause another earthquake.

It swang it...

But before it could have reached the ground, you appeared in front of him out of blue.

Your spear cut through its left fist. The monster shook and roared in pain. It tried to grab you but you quickly dodged and sprang back.

The lawachurl let out a deep growl and slowly straightened up.

You couldn't help but feel ludicrously tiny compared to the huge figure. It started to manifest its geo shield. You stepped back in slight panic and glanced at Yu behind you.

'Y/n!' She cried out, grabbing the edge of your coat. 'I'm so happy you're here! Please protect us!'

You finally recognised the figure behind her. It was her wounded mother kneeling on the ground, bleeding out. Yet, the look in her daughter's eyes was brave and now hopeful.

She had faith in you. They all had their faith in you.

This thought was the only thing giving you strength.

You grabbed her arm and leaned closer to her as the lawachurl started walking towards you in the background.

Your heart was beating so fast it felt like exploding, the blood streaming in your veins hot and tense. But you still managed to sound calm when you spoke to the child.

'Listen carefully to what I have to say. Do you remember the spot where you met me and the harbinger a few days ago?' She nodded. 'Collect as many people as you can from the village and the bamboo forest and go there. Hide and don't come out until you're completely sure the monsters are gone. Do you understand?'

'Yes' she answered. But she still seemed hesitant.

'What is it?' You asked hastily for the lawachurl was getting closer to you with every passing moment.

'Will you be alright?' She asked, locking eyes with you.

'Of course' you gently pushed her backwards to her mother who seemed to have regained her consciousness. 'Now go!'

She nodded and helped her mother stand up. You made sure they got out of your zone safely.

Then turned around.

Just in time to see the lawachurl slamming down its fists.

You dodged and jumped upwards. Spun in the air and stabbed your spear infused with hydro into the monster's thick skin.

You landed safely on the ground with the bloody polearm in your grip.

The lawachurl roared so loudly that his voice shook the mountains. It swang towards you blinded by the pain but you dodged again.

You straightened up directly in front of it. Clenched your teeth together before quickly telling a quiet prayer.

You were ready to face all monsters.