#besides that—I’m remaining cautiously optimistic over everything

[tacitusauxilium]

So I saw the Persona 3 Reload panel on YouTube.

Can I just say I cried when people saw the new Fuuka concept art and they were all chanting her name?! My husband even grabbed my arm cause he was so happy for me.

God she looks so good!

[emotionalcadaver]

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Lucy sits in agonizing limbo as she waits to hear from the doctors regarding Tommy's condition.

Word Count: 4,662

Notes: Warnings for depictions of a serious head injury, hospitals, blood, and angst.

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Chapter 14: Come Back to Me

She managed to somehow hold herself together until they took him into surgery. His hand, which she kept clasped tight with hers even after his fingers had gone limp, was ripped cruelly away when the doctors started to wheel him away on the gurney, towards a room where she knew she would not be allowed to follow. Lucy cried out without meaning to, drawing her hand to her chest like she could somehow capture the memory of how his large palm had felt fitted against hers and hold it in her heart. 

Watching Tommy disappear into the surgical suite with an army of doctors and surgeons convening around him, she began to feel herself start to break, hands trembling and tears welling in her eyes. Ada, who had been the one to speak to the doctors and relay everything that they knew about Tommy’s condition, rushed forward to wrap her arms around her, half holding Lucy up and guiding her over to a secluded, dark corner of the waiting room.

“Come, let’s sit here for a moment,” she whispered, tugging Lucy gently down into a chair beside her. It must have been taking more of her willpower to remain standing upright than she’d thought, because the moment Lucy slumped down into the seat, she felt all the remaining fight rush out of her, burying her face in her hands and bursting into tears. “Oh, Lucy,” Ada said softly, rubbing her back while her shoulders shook and shivered. “He’s going to be alright.”

“He’s dying, Ada,” she managed to get out, raising her tear stained face.

“The doctors say they think we got him here in time. They’re…cautiously optimistic.”

Lucy made a noncommittal sound. “I’m pretty sure that’s what they always say, Ada,” it was just a way to placate worried friends and family members. Even when the odds weren’t very good.

“Hey,” Ada took her by the shoulders, turning Lucy’s body towards her. “Look at me,” she said sternly, suddenly sounding very much like her brother. “He is going to be fine,” she spoke so confidently Lucy was actually in danger of believing her. “It’s Tommy. I’m pretty sure nothing on earth could kill him,” she smoothed some of Lucy’s hair out of her face. “He’s strong,” gripping Lucy’s shoulders tightly again, she stared her directly in the eyes. “He won’t leave you.”  

Another sob ripped its way free from Lucy’s throat, and Ada hugged her, rubbing her back and letting her wrap her arms around her slim shoulders until her sobs had quieted to small sniffles. Pulling away from her, Lucy wiped at her eyes self consciously, silently hating herself for crying in public. Even though it was just them in the waiting room and the receptionist sitting at the desk.

“Sorry,” she whispered, embarrassed. 

“It’s okay,” Ada reached into her handbag, pulling out a handkerchief and holding it out silently. 

“Thanks,” Lucy took it sheepishly, dabbing at her eyes, cringing a little at the thought of what her makeup probably looked like. Blowing her nose, she then balled the white piece of fabric into her fist. They both just sat in silence for a long, long while. “He said he couldn’t see,” Lucy finally spoke, her voice raspy from crying. Ada looked over at her.

“They said that might not be permanent,” but she was frowning as she said it. 

“Mm.” Lucy couldn’t think of anything to respond with. Ada patted her knee. 

“I should go call the rest of the family. Let them know what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

Ada leaned closer to her. “You’ll be alright?”

“Mhm,” Lucy nodded. Ada didn’t look fully convinced, but stood, gathering up her handbag and heading across the waiting room to the phone in the corner, her voice but a soft murmur in the otherwise quiet of the room as she spoke into the receiver.    

Staring down at her shoes, Lucy thought about the morning before he’d sent her off to London. How he’d pulled her back into bed with him, his huge hands gentle on her as they made love. His arms strong when they circled around her afterward, voice rumbling against her ear when she laid her head on his chest. God, the thought that that might’ve been the last time he ever held her…

It was terrible enough that every memory of Grace still carried the longing ache of recent grief, haunting her nearly every hour of every day. She didn’t think she could take having to add memories of him to the pile of heartbreak and shattered dreams kept within her mind. 

She turned her attention back to the doors through which Tommy had disappeared. Of their own accord, her legs drew up into her chest, her arms draped around them and her chin resting on her knees. Sitting like she used to as a child on the steps of her parents’ home.

She thought of Tommy, lying on a surgical bed while doctors cut into his head, trying to fit the broken pieces of his skull back together. 

Whimpering, she buried her face into her knees. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Standing in the doorway to the room the doctors led her to, Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, fingers bunching in the sleeves of her shirt to hide just how badly they were shaking. 

He was laying on his back in the hospital bed, the blankets pulled up over his chest. A metal halo brace was strapped to his chest to prevent him from turning his head. Though the silver circle of medal around his head, with its jagged bits pointing outwards, reminded her more of horns than a halo. 

She couldn’t remember who it was who had told her in school a theory that a demon’s horns were the jagged, broken pieces of their halo from when they were angels. Before they fell from heaven.  

They’d had to shave away a patch of his dark hair on the right side of the center of his head, and she could see where they’d cut him open and then stitched him back up again, stomach turning at the sight. Approaching on shaky legs, she got a good look at just how pale he was, eyes sunken in with dark circles surrounding them. 

The doctors said that his chances were quite good. Even better if he managed to make it through the night. They were even optimistic that he wouldn’t suffer any permanent loss of eyesight, though Lucy couldn’t be sure if that was again just them trying to placate her and Ada or if it was genuine. The worst they expected was that he might need glasses.

He wouldn’t be thrilled about that, Lucy mused, sinking bonelessly into the chair at his bedside. The chair she fully intended to remain in until he was well.   

“Oh, Tommy…” she whispered, fingers sliding to interlace with one of his hands. The coldness of his skin against hers was alarming. Tommy was always warm. Even in his fingertips, on the coldest days of the year. She could always rely on him to warm her up on the nights where even a pile of blankets couldn’t keep the chill away. His arms pulling her into the comforting heat of his chest. It was part of what made it so difficult to keep from snuggling up to him every hour of every day.

There was the click of heels behind her, Ada sighing and pulling up a chair to sit next her, patting Tommy’s arm. Neither of them said a thing, just sitting there with him, listening to his steady breathing. 

“They say that it will be a while before he wakes up. They have him on a lot of pain killers, and had to sedate him for the surgery,” Ada finally mumbled. 

“How long until he wakes up?” Lucy asked.

“They’re not entirely sure. A few days. Maybe even a week. With this type of injury, it often takes patients a while to fully come out of it.” Ada shrugged.

“If he even comes out of it at all,” Lucy added miserably. Ada shot her a concerned look and she sighed. “Sorry,” turning her gaze away, she stared down at his hand that she was holding, the pale, freckled skin cold and still. “I’ve gotten so used to just expecting the worst these days.”

“You have had a rather shitty time of it, lately,” Ada shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”

Lucy looked up at her quizzically. 

“For the way that I’ve treated you. The way that…almost the whole family has treated you. I didn’t really realize…I suppose it wasn’t until Grace died and I came to stay with you at Arrow House and I saw up close how you two are with each other that I really understood.”

“Understood what?” Lucy asked, unsure. Ada looked at her with an all knowing glance, mouth pressed into a grateful smile.

“Just how important you are to him. How much you’ve done. For him. For all of us.”

“I-I don’t-” Lucy stammered bashfully, completely at a loss for what to say. Getting praise from anyone other than Tommy wasn’t something she was used to. Ada touched her shoulder, thumb rubbing back and forth, expression suddenly earnest.

“Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Well…I…he’s…” she swallowed. “We take care of each other,” she managed to get out. It seemed that Ada understood what she was trying to get at; that Lucy’s relationship with Tommy had always been one of mutual caring and understanding. It wasn’t transactional. It could have been, she supposed, but it wasn’t. They were bonded in ways that could never be broken. Some through love, others through shared trauma that only they could understand. 

Much as the others may have tried, none of them had loved or known Grace the way they did. And none of them felt the deep, agonizing bite of loss as either of them experienced it. 

There was comfort in it; to know that thanks to Tommy she was not the only one grieving her. Just like it was comforting to know that he understood what she meant when she told him about how the earth had felt like it was crushing her when she woke up buried alive under the ground by a pack of sadists. She did not have to try to explain the claustrophobia of nothing but darkness and soil all around her, the way that the dirt dug its way up under her fingernails when she desperately clawed her way up and out. Crawling from the darkness, back into the land of the living. Dead but still breathing. Heart still beating despite the aching scars that marked so much of her body, never to be fully healed. 

No, Tommy understood all of it. All without her even having to speak a word. 

Forcing herself to look at the sealed incisions in his head, she bit her lip. And now there was yet another shared trauma between them. 

Now we’ve both had the lovely experience of having our heads smashed to fucking pieces. Fuck, what a pair we make, she thought to herself.

“I should probably go back to the house for a little bit. To check on Karl,” Ada said, glancing at her watch. 

“Of course,” Lucy nodded. Ada stood.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Lucy? Anything that I could get?”

“Oh, I…I don’t know…” her mind was starting to feel sluggish from exhaustion and stress. Like it had been stuffed full of cotton. 

“I could bring you some clean clothes when I come back. Maybe some food too?” Ada offered. 

“Yeah, sure. That would be nice,” she was aware that her voice sounded awfully dead and numb, but she just didn’t have the energy for much more. “Thank you.” 

Ada pressed a kiss to the back of Tommy’s hand that Lucy was still holding, then reached over and gave Lucy a surprise hug from the side, squeezing her shoulders. 

“Be back soon.”

“I’ll have them call if…if anything changes.”

“Please do.”

Her heels clicked on the floor when she began to make her way towards the door. 

“Ada?” Lucy turned, still keeping her hand locked with Tommy’s as she looked over her shoulder. Ada stopped at the doorway, looking back with a raised, questioning eyebrow. 

She and Tommy really were very alike. Even if they didn’t realize it.  

“Thank you,” she hoped Ada understood just how much she meant it. And that it wasn’t just about everything she’d done to help tonight.  

Ada nodded, eyes knowing. “Of course,” her heels picked back up their clicking against the floor, door closing softly behind her, and then it was just her and Tommy. 

Turning her gaze back to him, she rubbed her thumb up and down along his knuckles, staring at his sleeping face. 

“Love…” she didn’t even know exactly what she wanted to say. Tommy was such an all encompassing, massive presence in her life. Always there, steady and strong as an oak, for her to run to for refuge whenever something was wrong. His embrace comforting and warm, offering her protection from the entire world, if need be. And he always knew what to do. Even in the seemingly most impossible of situations. 

God, she was so unsure of herself without him there to reassure her. To help steer the ship in the right direction. It was probably teetering on unhealthy, just how dependent they’d grown on each other, but could anyone really blame them? After all that they’d gone through together?

And now here she was, so pathetic and helpless that she didn’t even know what to say to her lover as he teetered between life and death. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Tommy had felt after that incident with the attempted robber at the betting shop all those years ago. Mindlessly, she lifted her hand to feel the bump of the small scar just behind her left ear, where the bullet the bastard had shot her with had penetrated her skull and lodged itself in the outermost layer of her brain, right beneath the cerebral cortex, close to the cerebrum.

She was lucky that the gun the robber was using had been little more than a boy scout’s gun, with lightweight ammunition. Anything bigger and she likely would have been dead. Even still, the recovery had been agonizing and brutal.

Not quite unlike what Tommy would probably have ahead of him. If he ever woke up. 

She remembered how he had looked when she finally blinked open her blurry eyes, unable to process much more except just a constant cacophony of pain, only partially muted from the painkillers. He’d looked a wreck: hair rumpled from no doubt running his hands through it, eyes swollen and exhausted, entire face haggard and actually looking like he was on the verge of tears upon seeing her awake and alert after sitting so long at her bedside, unsure if she would even wake up at all. 

Yes, she imagined that this was very close to what he must have felt like.   

Leaning forward, she rested her forehead against their joined hands. “Come on, love,” she whispered, lips brushing against his knuckles when she spoke. “Come on, I came back for you. I need you to come back to me, now,” her voice started to grow heavy with tears again. “Please,” she didn’t even entirely know exactly what she was begging him for. “Please. I need you. Charlie needs you. The family needs you. I don’t know what to do without you here. I don’t…I don’t think I’m strong enough to do any of this alone,” she barely survived Grace’s death. She knew, almost certainly, she couldn’t endure losing him too.

He had her soul, after all. Surely if he died, that meant she was guaranteed to follow.     

“I love you so much,” she breathed out, voice breaking. In response to the sound, she could have sworn Tommy’s limp fingers twitched against hers. 

Lucy lifted her head from the bed to stare at him. Other than the heavy sound of his breathing, there was no other sign of life within him. But still she squeezed his hand, and allowed herself to feel the tiniest sliver of hope. 

∗ ∗ ∗ 

Tommy woke up slowly, eyelids fluttering as they fought to open against the crushing feelings of exhaustion. There was a steady, but abstract ache in his head, and he knew almost instantly that he was on some very heavy painkillers. His thoughts felt slow as molasses, blurry in a way that unnerved him. He was so used to his mind feeling sharp and fast. There was a tightness near the top of his head, that he was pretty sure was the result of skin being stitched back together. 

It took another moment to process that he could actually see, his eyesight growing more focused with every blink. He was in a hospital room that was mostly dark, just small slivers of moonlight coming in through the windows. 

Relief washed over him, blinking his eyes hard a few more times to make sure it actually was real. Yes, the hospital room was still there. His dead father was gone, no longer hovering over him with a deceitful grin. 

Come with me, son, he’d said, though his lips did not move. His voice was coming from inside Tommy’s head. 

You won’t fool me like you fooled Arthur, Tommy had thought to him. I’m not going anywhere with you. I know all you have to offer are false promises and lies. 

Mind slowly growing more awake and aware, he took in more of his state. Thanks to his lack of mobility in being able to either sit up or turn his head, his field of vision was rather limited, but he could feel that he’d been stripped down to his boxers, a blanket pulled up all the way to his collarbone. He was strapped into one of those rather absurd looking halo braces, the leather straps tight around his chest and shoulders. So they didn’t want him moving his head at all, then. That made sense.

All things considered, he was probably very, very lucky to have his sight back. Let alone to be alive at all. 

He barely remembered staggering into Ada’s home, speaking in slurred words to the Special Advisor to the Soviet Consul and his translator. His head felt like it was about to burst at any moment, if he didn’t pass out from the pain first. And then the stairs, slumping down against them, cradled in Lucy’s arms, breathing in the scent of her perfume and listening to her voice, aware that it very well could be the last time he ever got the opportunity to do either. Trying to comfort her when he heard her start to break down into tears, until the world around him faded away. 

There was a distinctive warmth against his side, pressing right up against his ribs. His right hand was warm too, and when he flexed his fingers experimentally it was to find them caged in a small hand. Further investigation greeted him with a mess of tangled, short red curls tucked right against his ribs. 

Lucy was hunched over in a chair at his bedside, her head resting on his bed and his hand clutched tight in hers. She had her face turned towards him, and he was able to take in the huge bags under her eyes, makeup smudged like she’d been crying.

She probably had been.

Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair a tangled mess. Her grip on his hand was relaxed enough with sleep that he was able to wriggle it free, reaching out a little clumsily to stroke the top of her head, trying to comb his fingers through her unruly curls to untangle them. 

She twitched in her sleep, face scrunching in an attempt to fight off wakefulness before giving in and opening her eyes a crack, blinking lazily. When she saw that he was awake, she jumped to full alertness, sitting up. He noted a slight wince when she did; sleeping hunched over like that probably hadn’t done any favors for her back. 

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, voice hoarse. Probably from a combination of sleep and general lack of use. “How are you feeling?”

“High as fucking kite, Luce,” his own voice wasn’t fairing much better, low and scratchy. The floatiness in his head hadn’t abated even as he fully woke up. 

“They’ve got you on a lot of painkillers.”

“Morphine?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Mm…” he closed his eyes with a soft groan. 

“Here,” Lucy nudged a straw to his lips, and he drank gratefully from the glass of water, the cool liquid helping to soothe his parched throat. “Do you want me to get the doctor?”

“No,” he let the straw go and she set the glass back on what he could only assume was the bedside table. He couldn’t turn his head to look and it was outside of his peripherals. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few days. You’ve been…in and out since they brought you out of surgery.”

“Mm,” he hummed again. “How bad is it?”

“Let’s just say you aren’t going to be doing shit for the next few months.”

“Fuck.”

Her lips pulled up briefly at the corners. “The doctors will give you a more detailed breakdown of everything, but they’re expecting you to come through without any significant long term effects.”

He sighed. He really had gotten lucky then. Even if he was probably going to be shackled to this hospital bed for the foreseeable future. 

Fucking hell, he was already bored just thinking about it. 

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to smuggle in some documents for me to work on or anything,” he huffed. Lucy’s eyes narrowed.

“Not a chance in hell, Shelby,” at his pout, she smirked. “Consider it revenge for when I was recovering from being shot and you would barely even let me sit up on my own.”

He snorted, reaching out to cradle the side of her face, thumb stroking over her bottom lip. Lucy shot him a playfully unimpressed look. 

“Being all sweet and handsy isn’t going to get me to change my mind. You need to rest.”

“Damn.”

She laughed. Despite her statement, he didn’t remove his hand, still tenderly caressing her soft, freckled cheek. Lucy turned her head to nuzzle at his palm. “I thought I might lose you for a moment there,” when she spoke again her voice was much softer and subdued. Something in Tommy’s heart tightened as he realized just how worried and scared she must have been. 

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, love,” he smiled, hoping that it would help to make her feel better. She huffed, rolling her eyes fondly, kissing his fingertips and letting her face rest more firmly into his palm. 

“You’re not funny.”

He just hummed, enjoying the brush of her lips against his fingers. Her big green eyes–a little bloodshot from exhaustion and crying, but still beautiful–blinked at him. 

“You’re sure you’re feeling alright? Not in too much pain?”

“Mhm. Just tired,” he soothed. She nodded.

“I haven’t been home, but I talked with Mary and the nanny on the phone. Charlie’s okay. He misses us, but he’s doing fine. Ada was here a little while ago. She’s been keeping the rest of the family informed.”  

“Thank you.”

She nodded, throat working when she swallowed, glancing down at where her fingers had started to pick at a stray thread in the blanket covering him. “You’ve been talking in your sleep.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Have I?”

“Mhm.”

“What did I say?”

“A lot of stuff that didn’t make any sense. Things about the tunnels. Things about…Grace…” it wasn’t lost on him the way her voice stuttered around her name. They’d rarely spoken it at all since…since the charity dinner. “You said some stuff about Hughes too.”

He grunted, a flood of hate rushing through him at just the priest’s name. Lucy looked at him with an expression that managed to be both knowing and curious at the same time. 

“Tommy, what happened?” she asked.

He sighed, throat suddenly itching for something other than water. “Do you have a cigarette?”

She nodded, twisting around to fumble with the pocket of her coat that was slung over the back of her chair, pulling out her cigarette case and a lighter. She wedged the white stick between her lips, lighting it and taking a drag before holding it to his own mouth. He closed his eyes while the nicotine flooded his lungs, breathing out a grateful stream of smoke when she pulled the cigarette away so she could have another drag, alternating between which one of them got to have it pressed to their lips while he explained to her what happened during his failed assassination attempt on Hughes. 

“I should’ve made you let me come with you,” Lucy said, rolling the cigarette between her fingers. Tommy shot her a look. 

“It’s not your fault.”

She looked at him with sad green eyes that told him she didn’t entirely believe him. 

“I should have told you everything as soon as it happened,” he caressed her cheek again. “And I should have let you come rather than sending you away to London.” 

“Mm. Overprotective fool,” she whispered, eyes closing when his thumb ran over her jaw. 

“Oi!”

She giggled, opening her eyes and passing the cigarette back to him. Tommy could see her thinking, green eyes clouding over with her thoughts.

“Do you think that Hughes was expecting you?”

He considered it. “Maybe. But he might just have protection around him at all times and I just didn’t see them.”

Lucy frowned. “He didn’t have any sort of security detail when I did my initial research and followings of him.”

“Might be a new development.”

“Or he knew you were coming.” 

He frowned. “You think someone talked?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. We know it wasn’t either of us.”

“We only told Polly and Tatiana.”

“Izabella might know. Tatiana could have mentioned it to her. When you’re better I’ll look into it.”

He lifted a brow. “Only after I’m better?”

“You’re daft if you think I’m leaving this chair until you’re at least able to stand on your own.” 

His lips pulled up at the edges of their own accord. Much as they needed to find out if they had a mole or leak somewhere, he had to admit that it was comforting to have her at his side. Especially when he could do little more than weakly lift his hand. Already, after only a few minutes of conversation, he felt exhausted. Lucy must have noticed, because she stubbed out the cigarette, reaching over to adjust the blanket against his chest, fingertips brushing his shoulder. 

“I’ll go get the doctor so they can talk to you about the recovery process. And then you can get some more rest.”

“Luce,” he managed to catch at her wrist before she could get very far, fingers squeezing loosely. She really did too much for him. He twisted their fingers together, thumb rubbing the cold skin of her hand. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” a vulnerable look crossed her face. “You…” she looked down, swallowing before meeting his gaze and trying again. “I was really scared, Tommy.”

His heart twisted. “I know, love. I’m sorry.”

She bent over him, and pressed a very light kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” his fingers tightened in hers, and she raised their joined hands to kiss his knuckles. 

“I’ll be right back.”  

Tommy let her go, sighing as he listened to her retreating footsteps, staring at the ceiling and resigning himself to several months of long, painful recovery. 

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[inkandpen22]

Permanent Chaos (5/?)

Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world. 

Masterlist

The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves. 

"Have you always wanted to be an actress?” 

Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.” 

He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle. 

"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?” 

I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.” 

“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”

Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought. 

Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly. 

Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup. 

There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?” 

He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.” 

I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment. 

“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.” 

"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle. 

He laughs and it’s contagious. 

My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos. 

 I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art. 

“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them. 

“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe. 

Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina. 

“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice. 

I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.” 

His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?” 

I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..." 

Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic. 

“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup. 

“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.” 

I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude. 

“I understand more than you think.” 

Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression. 

“Prove it,” I challenge him. 

Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.

"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?" 

I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this. 

_______________________________________________

Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting. 

“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker. 

“It’ll be worth it, trust me!” 

“Where exactly are we going?” 

“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics. 

I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself. 

Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?" 

"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!" 

Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time. 

Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume. 

"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed. 

I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times." 

"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles. 

Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH. 

_______________________________________

Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car. 

“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car. 

There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes. 

He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?” 

I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign. 

                                   No Trespassing! 

“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.” 

He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.” 

With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule. 

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area. 

I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly. 

Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt. 

My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?” 

He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly. 

“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!” 

“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates. 

I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came. 

He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest. 

“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!” 

Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now. 

Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action.  “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly. 

Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him. 

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.” 

As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows. 

“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip. 

In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell. 

Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance. 

“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it. 

Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos. 

“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me. 

I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk. 

My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over. 

“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself. 

“Nope." I lie. 

“Scared?” 

“No.” 

“Have you jumped from a cliff before?” 

I exhale deeply. “No.” 

He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze. 

“And you’re not afraid?” He checks. 

“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation. 

He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?” 

I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin. 

His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time. 

“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance. 

I nod. 

“One," he counts. “Two...”

I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this! 

"Three!" Colson shouts. 

I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine. 

“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist. 

A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped. 

Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!” 

“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily. 

I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath. 

“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness. 

“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.

Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it. 

Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me. 

His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.

________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags:  @canyoubuymetoast​ @bri-3530 @asil1652 @andstilltryingtofindmyself @nadia2021 @olafsidehoe @mgkobsessed @fairywriting101 @ferrell-cat @naylanae-0308 @tonystarkswife10 @alexsa56 @brocksbabyyy @stormrider505 @magnificenthumancopangel @sarcasticfangirlus @lilramencup95beech @missyviolet123 @skeleton-gxrl @glitterybearllamaflap @margaritaville20 @amoresixx @thysagclub​ @hockeybabe87​

[aminiatureworld]

Time and Chance II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,702

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Confessions are tricky things. Sometimes it takes week, maybe months, maybe years of building up courage for one to happen. And sometimes life throws the oddest wrenches in our paths.

In which the reader confesses.

Author’s Note:

Sorry for the lack of Zhongli. I feel completely awful currently and though I wrote part of his scenario it was really poor in quality so I decided to stick with Kaeya and Xiao. I’ll get to him and Keqing another time I promise. Also don’t worry this isn’t life or death I just need to sleep it off lol. I realize between this and my computer there’s always something and I feel a bit guilty about it. At least I hope everything’s up to par!

This also probably won’t get proofread tonight.

 I hope you enjoyed my extra fic for Valentine’s Day! To all the lovely people who requested prompts I will be getting to those next week. Have a lovely night and thank you so much for your patience!

Kaeya

Perhaps falling in love with Kaeya wasn’t the most original thing you’d ever done, but by the time you’d come to that conclusion you were too far gone to care.

You loved Kaeya, or at least you liked him a lot. As someone who looked up to the Knights of Favonius there was something intriguing about the man who was simultaneously one of its lynchpins, and a sort of rogue state of a human being. It didn’t hurt that he was stupidly good looking, and a bit of a smoother talker. Okay, maybe more than a bit, but you didn’t really mind that. It was nice to be flirted with sometimes, and Kaeya had the sense never to take it too far.

You figured that Kaeya was at least somewhat aware of your feelings. Though you never asked about it, it seemed somehow too brash. Instead you figured that, in the months that had passed since your friendship had begun – for you did see it as a friendship by now – Kaeya had become aware and decided not to comment on it, as to not hurt your feelings. Though you wouldn’t go as far as call it noble of him, you certainly appreciated it.

So this charade continued on. You two remained close friends, or rather close friends in your estimation. Kaeya continued to flirt and you continued to ignore your personal feelings. It was truly an odd song and dance, but it wasn’t one you were about to change, not willingly anyways.

It’d become a bit of a tradition to patrol together. Seeing as you were an adventurer yourself and Kaeya was, well, Kaeya, you two had eventually decided it was better to make one long patrol together than two shorter patrols apart. Besides wasn’t the rule safety in numbers?

It was an exceedingly boring patrol, and as it neared its end the atmosphere between you two grew from semi-serious to absolute buffoonery. Kaeya had challenged you to see who could pick the most flowers the fastest, then who could control their vision’s element the long, then eventually, seized by some divine genius, he suggested that you might see who could run the farthest on the walls of Monstadt without falling over.

“This has got to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to.” You grumbled good naturedly. “Don’t blame me if you go tumbling off and end up with a broken leg.”

“I trust you’ll lift me to safety before that happens.” Kaeya answered back, eyes alight with his daredevil proposal.

“My anemo vision isn’t your personal elevator captain.” You reminded him. Hauling yourself up on the walls so you were on the farthest side you flashed a thumbs up. Kaeya nodded.

“Okay. Three… two… one and three quarters.”

“Kaeya.” You huffed, eliciting a chuckle from the knight.

“Okay, okay. Three, two, one, go!” The two of you ran as fast as you could, scrambling up the turrets, too concentrated to talk. Kaeya was laughing though, and eventually you found yourself laughing too, thrilled by the recklessness you were indulging in and the freedom to be doing it with someone apparently as stupid as you were.

“I’m getting ahead~” Kaeya chimed. You scoffed, quickening your pace. Kaeya did likewise, and for a moment it seems you two were going to be running the entire wall in this position. That is before Kaeya slipped.

“Shit.” He cursed, waving his arms like a madman. This only lasted a few seconds before he truly tumbled off, heading towards the stone paved ground. You didn’t say anything, though your brain was screaming various incomprehensible things. You simply clambered off your perch, hands already outstretched, praying to the god Barbatos that you could manipulate air you couldn’t see.

Luck was on your side as it turned out, and your swirl of wind caught Kaeya before he hit the pavement. Gliding down you shook your head wildly.

“Great gods Kaeya you scared the shit out of me!” You knew that you were screaming slightly, but you couldn’t help it. The whole situation had riled you up, leaving you panicked and not fully in control of your emotions.

“I’m fine! Honestly I am. I’m only sorry I lost.” Kaeya chuckled, but his laughter was weaker than before and his expression was slightly shocked.

“It’s not time to joke around Kaeya!” You shot back. “You can’t be so reckless! I know that it was also my fault for agreeing to it, but honestly! What would Monstadt do without you? What would I do without you?” You paused then, realizing that what you said held certain implications you’d been hoping to keep under wraps.

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s expression immediately became brighter. Figures he’d read the meaning into your words. Honestly the man was too emotionally intelligent for his own good.

“I meant was I said.” You replied, figuring that there was nothing else to say. The truth was all but out now. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you Kaeya. Now I’m going to tell you something I’ve been hiding for a while, and since I saved your life and revealed it in the process I just want you to take it seriously, okay? I’m not joking, and now that I’ve said it I want to make it explicit. I like you. Like, I like, like you. And I know that I’m just your friend and that you’ve probably been aware of it for ages, but it’s out in the open now, okay? You don’t have to reciprocate or anything, that’s not it. I just… want to let it out.”

You stared at Kaeya, trying to gauge his reaction as much as possible, unwilling to look away. Unsurprisingly the news hardly seemed shocking to him, but instead of his smile slipping from his face it only grew wider. “You’re kinda oblivious you know.”

“I – what?” You sputtered, slightly offended. This wasn’t where you expecting it to go. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate, but leave the teasing alone for now at least!” So much for calling Kaeya emotionally intelligent.

“You’re reading this the wrong way!” Kaeya held up his hands, before stepping closer to you. “I just can’t believe that you’ve been my friend this whole time, had feelings on top of it, and never noticed that I was just as interested in you. I mean I’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“You flirt with everyone.” You scoffed, although the argument seemed to hold a bit less weight when compared to the jubilant, slightly smug look on Kaeya’s face.

“You may be right about that.” He admitted. “But c’mon. I don’t flirt with them like I flirt with you. I certainly don’t take them out on patrol.” His expression turned softer then, and he shook his head. “I know that I joke around a lot, but I promise, I wouldn’t joke about this. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you though, that was a fault on my part.”

“So you mean I’ve been hiding my feelings all this time for nothing?” You deadpanned, feeling overwhelmed. The situation still seemed too good to be true.

“Sounds about right.” Mischief was creeping back into Kaeya’s voice. “But it’s all right now! Your prayers have been heard! So, since you were the one to admit your feelings, I’ll be the one to ask the question. Want to date?”

“Yes.” You replied, sure of your answer.

“Good.” Kaeya replied, before pulling you into a hug, one you gladly reciprocated. It had been a hell of a day, and while you wouldn’t relieve Kaeya’s fall for anything you felt somehow lighter, as if a great burden had been lifted off your shoulders. He liked you, Kaeya liked you. For you, for now, that was all that mattered.

 Xiao

Once you’d decided to admit your feelings to Xiao you’d immediately followed up that decision with the knowledge that you were going to have to break it to him slowly. You’d been friends with Xiao for over a year now, and though you were cautiously optimistic as to how the adeptus would take it, you still knew that he wasn’t the kind of person who would be at all comfortable with a sudden confession.

Confessing your feelings was in itself an act which required all the courage you possessed. You weren’t sure when you’d truly started falling for Xiao, it had come about so gradually. But before you knew it you had grown to love him. You loved the way he talked, the soft cadence of his voice though often impatient was still filled with enough softness to make your heart flutter. You loved how, despite all he’d suffered, he still retained a begrudging love for the world, especially Liyue, which he once revealed to you would always be the one thing he loved, even if he loved nothing else. You loved everything, his hands, his eyes, the way he walked, the way he kept going despite it all. You loved it so much it hurt, and now you found that your love wasn’t something merely to be pushed away. If the odds of Xiao rejecting you were almost 100 so be it, at least then you’d be proud of yourself.

You spent quite a bit of time mulling the whole thing over, before the answer struck you. Xiao refused the gifts you brought him after some of your adventures, and when you’d once asked him what he might accept he’d shifted his gaze slightly towards the side, one hand running itself through his hair. “…Almond… Tofu.” He’d admitted. You’d been delighted by the revelation at the time, promising yourself you’d learn to make it. And what was a better way to show your feelings than to do so now? Not only was it something he’d like, it was something you’d made yourself.

So you gathered all the ingredients, borrow a receipt, and set to work in Wangshu Inn’s kitchen.

Unfortunately you’d failed to predict how difficult Almost Tofu was to make. It’d been hours and you had nothing to show for it but dirty utensils, a scarcity of ingredients, and a few mysterious blobs that looked about two steps away from inedible. Leaning your head on the counter you let out a groan. Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?

“What’re you doing?” A familiar voice broke through your reverie.

“Xiao!” You exclaimed, glancing around you. There was no use hiding the project, although technically nothing was looking even close to Almond Tofu right now. “I was, I was trying to make Almond Tofu. But I guess I’m no good at cooking.” You laughed, more than slightly embarrassed.

Xiao’s eyes narrowed, and he raised an eyebrow. Saying nothing he walked over to the counter. Grabbing a cloth he started wiping down the counter.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, slightly confused and extremely surprised.

“Teaching you.” Came the reply. “Come on, let’s start again. Have you washed your hands since your last attempt?”

If cooking was difficult without Xiao it was impossible with him. The whole time you couldn’t help butbe aware of his presence, the way he stood behind you, leaning forward ever so often. Once you hadn’t been mixing fast enough and he placed his hands on yours, pressing his chest against your back. Your grip had immediately lost all strength, and you were sure that Xiao was the only one actually working. His breath was warm against your neck, and his palms were warm and dry. It was all too much, and you spent the rest of the lesson only half paying attention, too wrapped up in his proximity to you.

Despite the distractions this batch turned out, well looking like Almond Tofu. You couldn’t help but smile when seeing the finished product. Even if you didn’t make it completely yourself, there was still something about creating that gave you a sense of pride. Even if you did need help from the person you were going to give it to.

“It’s done.” Xiao proclaimed, a slight smile of satisfaction on his face. “I hope you enjoy it.”

“Oh, well actually I made it for you.” You grabbed the plate and approached the adeptus. “I know you said it was your favorite, and the only thing you’d accept, so, I made it!” You smiled slightly, though inside you were a bundle of nerves. This was happening. Holy shit this was happening.

The surprise on Xiao’s face was evident, but he nevertheless took the plate. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks he pressed into the tofu, causing it to almost immediately separate. Taking a bite a smile crossed his face. “Thank you,” he said, “it’s very good. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” You replied, voice slightly hurried. “And, um, well I’d like to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Xiao’s slightly concerned look returned. Setting the plate down he crossed his arms.

“Well… you see.” You glanced at the floor. “I know this will probably seem very sudden, and maybe not very proper; and I know that this is something that’s purely one sided, but the fact is I like you. I like you more than a friend and, well… yeah.” You finished, feeling as if you’d just spoken some utter nonsense.

Glancing up you noticed how rigid Xiao had gone. Mouth twisting into a nervous frown you shook your head. “I’m so sorry! I know that you aren’t really, well you’ve said you aren’t familiar with the way humans experience the world. And I don’t want to put you on the spot, that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I’m sorry it’s so shocking.” Glancing away you started worrying your hands together. This had gone so much worse than you’d expected it.

“I don’t understand,” Xiao finally spoke, dropping his arms to his sides, “I don’t understand why you’d like someone like me. I’m not a human, and in terms of adepti I’m far more cursed than most. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t like some like me. I bring disaster.”

“No you don’t!” The objection came naturally to you, horrified as you were by Xiao’s view of himself. “You’re one of the most wonderful beings I’ve ever met, human or adeptal! You’re kind, and you try to understand the pain and emotions of humanity. And you never push your burdens onto others despite carrying such heavy ones. If that’s not the mark of a good person, well then I don’t know what is!”

“I still don’t understand.” Xiao said, voice softer than usual but just as matter of fact.

“I’m sorry I pushed this onto you.” You said, suddenly feeling a burst of regret, turning around you made to leave the kitchen.

“Wait!” Xiao’s voice was loud and slightly jarring, his hand caught your wrist in a grip that, while gentle, was still firm. You turned around, unsure what to expect. Xiao sighed, closing the distance between you two. “When I said I don’t understand, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” There was a pause as he collected his thoughts, looking down, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t understand how humans think, nor how they feel. But, when I’m around you I’m happy, happier than I’ve been in a millennia. And I want to be around you, all the time sometimes. I want to know more about you and I want you to know more about me. So, if that’s what you mean, then… I also like you.”

Xiao glanced back up towards you and your eyes met. You felt slightly floaty all of a sudden, as if you’d gotten very, very drunk. Everything was too sudden, your emotions had changed too quickly. But through all your confusion you understood one thing. Xiao liked you, he liked you. He wasn’t going to reject you or push you away. The thought was enough to bring a smile to your face.

“So you really like me?” You asked. Though you knew the answer now you still wanted to hear it again. Just in case.

“Yes.” Xiao replied, a smile once more adorning his face. “I like you.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

[random-imagines-blog]

Under Atomic Skies {John Blake x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2558 Summary: John Blake would do just about anything to keep his family safe.

You looked over at John as he came into your cozy little Gotham home. His mouth was set in a grim line against the contours of his handsome face. You could feel the stress radiating off of him. “Did the kids see?” He asked, turning off the television that you were sitting in front of. You shook your head in a no, and he sighed in relief. They were playing in their rooms, your son and your daughter. The blasts in the street had caused the house to rumble, but they didn’t ask any questions. They just played ‘earthquake’. You didn’t want to explain to them what happened until your husband, John, got home with his own explanation. And what he said, all of it, it broke your heart. This was the city you both grew up in. This was the city you had fallen in love in. Gave birth in, raised your kids in, got a mortgage in, worked in, made your home. And it was being threatened once more.

“There’s going to be riots, and looting, and who knows what else,” You said, your eyes looking over to the front door. There were three locks on it already, with John being a bit of a cautious man. With you being a cop’s wife. But those three didn’t seem enough when you were now the wife of the only cop, or detective, left to protect the city. The rest were caught in the underground. John’s partner included. “What are we going to tell the kids? Is Ross alright? Should we move to a safe house?”

“Ross is fine, I’ve already figured out where he is. There’s a sewer grate right above them, I can talk to him,” John said, which made you give your own sigh of relief. Your husband’s partner was like family, your kids even called him Uncle Ross. “I have hope in Gotham, we’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

But you weren’t so sure. You loved this city, but it tended to turn out bad people one after another. Thieves, mobsters, even an evil clown. And now this man who called himself Bane. It was safe to say that you were terrified, and wished that you shared in your husband’s positivity. In his hope. It was one of the things that you loved best about him. And things usually turned out pretty okay. The city had John Blake - it was going to be okay.

--

The days started to seem shorter as the countdown to the bomb began. There just didn’t seem to be enough time in the day to really appreciate each and every one. John was gone most of the time, working as a Detective, working with Batman, being the only cop in a city which was run by madness. You hardly ever left the house, and when you did, it was to go to the boys’ orphanage and help out there. There was no point in trying to work from home right now, the business was down the toilet. So you took on volunteering at the boys home, bringing your kids with you so you could keep an eye on them all at the same time. Father Reilly appreciated your help.

“It’s good for the boys to see a friendly face,” He admitted to you as you were passing out juice boxes to the kids. “All of them seemed to be glued to the news the days. They’re too young for such things. Too innocent.”

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be doing the same,” You admitted to the friendly father. You kept pressing that smile on your face, just as John did when he came home and gave the kids a huge hug each night. But the news was wearing you down. Scarecrow, Dr Jonathan Crane, was acting as judge, jury and executioner. All of the major shopping centers were looted as ‘wealth’ was dispersed in the way of material goods. You never joined in on any of that. You weren’t going to let the city take you down with it.

“There’s always hope,” Father Reilly said, putting his hand on your shoulder in solidarity. “That’s something I learned from being around these boys. No matter what life throws at them, they still play with a smile on their face.”

“It’s hard not to stay hopeful with John around,” you admitted, sitting on a bench with a juicebox of your own. You looked out over Gotham. There was still smoke in the air. There was always smoke in the air. The sounds of chanting from the courthouse. Vehicles still moving about down there, despite there really being nowhere to go. John had filled you in that one of those large trucks was carrying around the bomb, and your eyes caught on one as it turned a corner a few blocks down. It was terrifying, knowing that it was so close. But you still had a few days before it would go off. There was still time to find it. There was time to fix this whole mess. “Include John in your prayers tonight for me, father? It can’t hurt for us to be a little louder.”

“I already include him every night, y/n,” Father said, sitting beside you, stretching out his old leg bones. He was no longer the young man who used to chase John around this very building. The stress was taking a toll on him, and had even before the bombings. “And all of those officers stuck under the city.”

“They’re getting food and water, and vitamin D tablets,” You explained. “John and Ross have been keeping in touch. He’s even been scouting out an area where he might be able to get them out. He’s been working nonstop on this. I hope that when it’s all over, I can convince him to take a break.”

“Good luck asking him to take a break from anything,” Father Reilly laughed. It was the first real laugh you had heard since this whole thing began, at least from someone other than a child. It made you grin. You knew that it was absolutely true. John was one of the most dedicated people in this city. And when he believed in something, whether it’s in Batman, or in you, he never gave up on it. He’d fight til the end.

--

The day after tomorrow. The bomb was going to blow, according to John. The military still weren’t letting people go across the bridge. They were even threatening to blow that up themselves to stop people. Most of the population didn’t know, they were much too busy fighting each other to realize that Bane wasn’t actually going to give a detonator to an ordinary citizen. Or that an ordinary citizen would even want this city to blow up. He had to have the detonator all this time. And with Batman missing again, and the cops still trapped, and only very few people actually working on the streets... even your hope was beginning to wane. And John’s.

You moved into the shelter with the boys, taking care of them, tucking them in, acting like the mother that they never had. Because if all went wrong, this would be their last few days and they deserved to feel that love. You put the blankets over them, made sure that they had their bears which they were given as emotional support, and gave them each a peck on the forehead. Even the older boys, so quick to shun the bears since they were childish, needed something to hold onto.

The day before the bomb went off was chaotic. All of your rations were packed away to take off in the morning, just in case things didn’t work out. John was convinced that the military would see reason and let a bus full of children across. And you, importantly. He wasn’t going to be able to go on if anything happened to you, he admitted.

“You just do your job, Detective Blake,” You said, laying in bed with him, looking into his big, dark brown eyes. “And keep up hope that everything is going to turn out alright. It’s like that saying you know I love so much. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. We have to remain optimistic about this. Not just for us, but for the kids.”

--

The bomb was set to go off in less than an hour. All of the kids, the father, a few other works, John and yourself had piled onto the schoolbus and tried to get out to the bridge. The military were guarding it cautiously. Too cautiously. Guns were pointed not only at you, who had gotten out to support John, and your husband. Father Reilly was giving up hope. But you weren’t. The second that John had gotten the door unlocked, you slipped through it, standing in front of him.

“Please,” You pleaded, stepping forward tentatively. Your eyes were struggling to meet the soldier’s, and not just focus on his gun. “I’m asking you not as a citizen of Gotham, but as a mother. As a human being. These children are innocent in all of this. If they don’t leave, they’re going to get killed anyway. Have you seen the riots, and the looting, and all of the crime? Is that an environment you want your kids raised in?”

“You need to get back,” The soldier said, though his voice was shakier than before.

“Please, do not shoot,” John yelled, his accent cutting through the air. He walked up alongside you, badge in hand, those hands up towards the sky. He stepped in alongside you, then a step ahead, protecting you. Always acting like your human shield. Warning shots came towards you, to the ground by your feet.

“Get back,” John whispered to you. And you didn’t fight him on that, you went right back behind the chain-link door with the others, but watched with worried eyes. Your fingers slipped through the holes, gripping onto the metal. However much John worried about you getting hurt, you worried right back. Tenfold. The city would be lost without him. You would be lost without him, so would the kids.

“Detective, please, stop!” The young looking officer barked out. He looked as scared as you felt. But John was stubborn, and wasn’t going to stop for anything. He took two steps forward. More bullets shot near his feet, sending little shocks of light. That made him pause, but not stop. Another step. “STOP WALKING.” He looked towards another soldier that was with him and said the words that made your heart stop. “BLOW IT.”

The two men disappeared behind the shelters made of sandbags. “John-” You cried out, hoping to God that he would turn around and walk back to you before the explosives would go off.

“DO IT.” The soldier ordered.

Your stubborn husband. He made another step before the explosives detonated. Smoke filled your vision, but you saw that he was thrown backwards. You went through the door again, coughing through the dark and acrid smoke, trying to find him. A whole section of the bridge fell from existence, causing a rumble that made you fall. A hand caught your own, and you could feel from familiarity that it was John’s.

“YOU SONS OF BITCHES,” John said, getting onto his feet and pulling you up alongside with him. He had his arms around you, still shielding you from the military. You avoided looking at them now, because John was speaking what you were thinking. “YOU KILLED US.”

It was hard to maintain that hope in the face of this much adversity, but you had to try. He was moving back towards the door, back towards the kids. You stopped him outside of the bus, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and brought him in for what might be your last hug. “You’ve done everything that you can, my love,” You said, looking into his dark eyes. “I have faith in the Batman. And in Gordon. They’re figuring this out, and if they don’t then - then you cannot blame yourself. You risked your life time and time again. Gotham can not ask any more from you.”

John nodded, but you could still see the frustration on his face. But then another expression took over it. One of hope. And wonder. He pointed behind you, towards the skies, towards the water. You turned around to see that there was some black thing flying through the air, holding what looked to be-

- the bomb.

It was being flown over the waters, towards the sea, away from Gotham. Batman had come through. There was no mistaking who else it could be in that jetblack air craft. Nobody else had the technology for that. Your hands went to your heart, holding it in because it was beating so quickly, it felt like it might pop out. John put his arms around you from behind. All of the kids rushed to one side of the bus to look out of the windows. There were excited voices coming from everywhere.

Then the bomb went off. You could see the explosion from where you were. It caused a stiff wind to blow towards you. The bridge rippled as the water beneath it did as well. It was a wonder that the windows of the bus didn’t break. But it was gone, and it was over. And though you felt relieved, you looked up at John with sorrow. He had believed in the Batman, more than he believed in his own police force. But at least the threat against your family, for now, was over and done with.

--

When you first saw him wearing the mask and the suit, you were worried. Who wouldn’t be? He was taking over the moniker of Batman and all of the enemies that brought along with it. But at least he had promised that he would wear the mask, something he had sworn never to do in the first place. But he had you to think about, and the kids. He’d already had an enemy threaten you, with Bane and the entire city, and he realized this wasn’t just about playing heroics. It was about taking care of his own. His people. Gotham’s people.

“Are you going to be home to tuck the kids into bed?” You asked, before John set off to go to the underground bunker. Even you didn’t know the exact location. The less you knew, the better.

“I’ll try to be,” He said, cupping your chin and pressed a sweet and loving, though quick, kiss upon your lips. “Don’t wait up for me though.”

“Easier said than done,” You said. He chuckled, knowing that was the truth, gave you a long look like he was memorizing your face, then disappeared out into the evening twilight, to get ready to prowl the night in his newly assigned role as The Batman.

[the-headbop-wraith]

3_45 _ The Past is Gone

  Nothing of Kingsman Mechanic’s appeared out of place. A few lights poured clarity across the work floor, but the other rooms and the storage chamber remained inactive. On the main floor, the white and black hound scurried this and that way, struggling to untangle the erratic path.

 Arthur raised his legs as Mystery padded by. The dog took a sharp left and continued, first checking the flatbed the intruder skipped over, and then roving toward vehicles parked in stations. Mystery came upon a large and swollen duffle bag, laying beside a supply cart. He pawed at the clunky thing, nipping at the zipper on the side.

 Lewis prodded at the sack, shifting it one way then the other cautiously. It was hard and chunky, likely some sort of equipment. The question though, did he bring this in or was he taking it?

 A bark form Mystery assured that there was nothing hazardous. Lewis tugged the zipper and tilted his skull.

 “You should’ve barbequed the guy,” Vivi grumbled. She moved in beside Lewis and peered over his shoulder. “Skinned and then barbequed.”

 “A bit excessive.” Lewis angled his skull up and peered across the room, to Arthur. “Turned him inside out, and then barbequed.”

 “Now you’re talking.” She leaned down and touched his hand. “It’ll be okay. Uncle cares a lot about you, but he needs some time to adjust.”

 Lewis rasped. “He needs time to adjust.” He didn’t bother to zip up the bag, and stood. “First thing he does is put a hole right through me. Who does that?”

 “A protective parent?” Vivi posed. She leaned around Lewis’ side, staring up at him. “Arthur’ll be fine, he’s sore but it’s all aches. He told me nothing in his shoulder was torn or cracked, which is a marvel.” She pushed him by the lower back, coaxing the tall spirit on his way.

 Two hours following the intruder’s retreat, Uncle Lance was on his second pot of coffee. In that time, Vivi did her best to reconstruct the events of what transpired all that time in the past, wherein an ‘accident’ occurred. There remained crevices that she could not put description into, due to Lance’s inexperience to the actuals of the Mystery Skulls paranormal investigation. And also, that Lewis’ did not merely loose his footing on some slippery rocks. It wasn’t a good time to bring in the influencing force, or place the ideal that it’s compulsion was strong, if not impossible to fight away. Despite the skewed memory, Vivi was the only candidate to elaborate the details. Lewis was adamant about that.

 For the most part, Lance seemed to take it all in as well as anticipated. He did need some time alone to think, and really grapple with what he was seeing. Beyond the revelation that Lewis wasn’t gone – not entirely there, either – the shock that supernatural creatures existed out there, entities that occurred not far from his home base.

 As for the intruder in the mask, the trail led outside and down the road. Mystery lost it on the sidewalk, prompting Vivi’s speculation that he got into a vehicle and departed. She returned to Kingsman and checked on Arthur, while Lewis accompanied Mystery in the next search. The motivation and intent of the assault. The bag offered some insight.

 “Good news, we figured out what the guy was here for,” Vivi proclaimed, in a strong dramatic whisper.

 “And there. I didn’t drop you off someplace. High.” Lewis set the bag down at Arthur’s feet. A look of ‘what the fu—' crossed Vivi’s face when she directed her eyes to Lewis. “You… don’t seem as appreciative as you should be.”

 “Lew!”

 Arthur fixed the soggy bag of water against his neck. “Sorry. Not surprised, is all. This is the furthest anyone’s got with getting away. At least, that I know of.”

 Vivi was aghast. “This has happened before?”

 “Not like this.” He flecked his hand upward. “If someone breaks in, they jack shit that’s easy to access. Grab’n go. We store special components upstairs, things that get legs real easy. Whatever’s pricey and small, easy to miss, gets locked up. Only one other guys has the keys, aside from Uncle and me.” He sighed. “Not that this would do anyone any good.” With his hand, he rifled through the duffle. Some folders were crammed in, among the shell and arm shapes.

 Lewis shifted and looked away, his thumb stroked the underside of his cheek bone. “Then, could it have been someone working here? One of the grease monkeys?”

 Mystery yapped and gave his head a shake, ears flopping.

 “Not… likely,” Arthur drawled out. “These models are shells, nothing useful has been incorporated into them. It’s possible the guy grabbed and jammed, if he was in a hurry. But you didn’t run into him upstairs, not in that tiny corridor. So, he was already on his way out.”

 The four hung quiet a moment, debating on the assessment. Lewis broke the silence, “So, what does that mean?”

 Arthur shrugged. “I’ll go upstairs and check, make sure nothing else is missing. You lost the trail?”

 Mystery borked and spun in circles. Got in a car and zoomed.

 “And what sort of car?”

 Mystery tapped his front paws, raising one and flattening his ears down. “Mhh….”

 Lewis and Vivi exchanged a look. Vivi said, “Hangs around a car garage?”

 “Can’t distinguish between the different models?” Lewis finished.

 Mystery snorted and left them, ears twisted back and muzzled crinkled. All this oil smells the same.

 Lewis gestured to Vivi. “There’s not a lot to work with.”

 “No.” She turned to Arthur. “Let’s get you upstairs so you can lie down.” Vivi leaned down and took Arthur’s upper arm. Lewis took the bag up and moved aside, while Vivi hefted Arthur off the box. “We can ask Uncle Lance about the cameras later.”

 “I’m fine,” Arthur insisted, though he let Vivi aid him in getting upright. Lewis stood by, hand open as if he wanted to assist but wouldn’t move towards Arthur. “Think I was mostly stunned. Good thing these boxes were empty. Anyway, the cameras wouldn’t be much help. Aside from proving the guy was a jerk.”

 “Always the optimist,” Lewis crackled. “I doubt they’ll come back around.”

 “You sound real proud of yourself,” Vivi quipped, through a grin.

 “I really wish you’d seen them. It was like they saw a ghost.” Lewis’ skull swiveled on his collar, and he wound his shoulders around to face the stout figure approaching them.

 Lance gave his face a firm rub, before searching the group over. “Don’t mean tu break up teh powwow. Your gunna be okay, Art?”

 Arthur grimaced and pulled on the edge of his vest. “I’ve been worse.”

 A steely expression crossed Lance’s face, but he didn’t respond on that. “Yuh. Sure. Um, I want to head on over to my place, sleep this off. Might take the rest of the day off.” He pointed to Arthur. “And you’re not comin’ in either.”

 “I already had the day off….”

 “The whole week, then.”

 “Uncle,” he groaned, stretching awkwardly around Vivi to facepalm.

 “No. M’words final. You. Ghost Pepper.”

 Lewis eye sockets surged with those fuchsia flames. “It’s Lewis, Uncle Lance. Lew-Is.”

 Lance swept his arm. “C’mere. I want a word with you.”

 A low rattle burned through Lewis. “Juro si este va a ser un tema recurrente….”

 Lance led the way through the work floor, and into the dim corridor entrance. The shorter man stood with his arms crossed, glaring at Lewis and trying to look as imposing as he could muster without standing on his toes. Lewis met the stance, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

 “Vivi talked with you.”

 “She talked with me,” Lance acknowledged, with a nod. “N’it was a good conversation. A lot tu take in. There’s a lot tu… tangle mah thoughts ‘round.” He glanced a little beyond Lewis’ shoulder. “I try not tu pry into your kids… Arthur and Viv-vi’s going on’s. I trusted… ‘em, despite whut happened to m’boy. Tu yu.”

 Lewis creaked back and looked away.

 Lance went on, “I thought stayin’ busy an’ doin’ their thing was right. But now, I dunno if that was what bein’ best for ‘em. She told me what ya’ll been preoccupied with, but there bein’ more she ain’t willing tu give over. All this time, I thought yu were out on the road, unmasking kooky loonies playin’ pretend. Fakes doin’ shenanigans for publicity, tryin’ to shirk a profit.”

 For a minute the two stood, quiet and contemplative on the crossroads. It was not total silence, a steady thrum persisted from Lewis. Like a heartbeat, Lance was not eager to address.

 “And what’s this about Arthur comin’ home, with his arm all beat tu heck?” Lance snarled. “First, he loses it. Now it’s cursed, and he can’t – he can’t furbish a replacement to make use. Keep it functional for more than… a couple months! Yu’re adults, and ya’ll got yur business tu work through, but do yu lot got yur priorities squared?”

 Lewis frowned. “You’d have to take that up with the boss lady.”

 Lance pressed his hands to his face and took a deep breath. “Yu and I are talkin’ it now.” He pried his hands from his face and held his palms together, against his nose.

 For the first time, Lewis realized Lance’s hands were quaking. It was subtle, maybe he didn’t realize it. The stillness hung between them, while Lance struggled to get his bearings.

 “Somethin’ happened between you an’ Art, I’ve seen enough tu conclude that.” Lance sighed. “Yu won’t e-Lab-or-ate on it, an’ that’s all right. It’s your business. But yu should know I am downright upset I wasn’t told about this.”

 Lewis tilted his skull. “About… what?”

 “About what?” he exploded. “About… everything! All of this! I deserved tu know something, any small scrap that wasn’t a lie! A bit of the truth, that’s all I ask. I can’t be there for Arthur,if he’s hidin’ away!” Lance threw his arms up gesturing nothing in particular, his breath came labored and his brow beaded with droplets. “About yu! I should’ve in the least, been told yu’d… resurfaced, or sumthin’! Whatever y’all call it. Do your parents kn—?”

 “NO!” For the first time Lewis’ features snapped from gnawing fury, to wide eyed horror. “No-no! They can’t! And you can’t tell them!”

 Perplexed and alarmed, Lance eased back. “Okay. I got it.” The light of the corridor fluttered, the embers in Lewis’ skull flashed.

 “They can’t know about me, about what I—  About what happened. Please, Uncle Lance,” Lewis rasped, the remnants of his speech drew on a rustling surge. The spirit clasped his hands together. “There’s only one thing I will ever-ever ask of you, and it’s that you never speak about what you saw here with anyone, save for Vii and Artie. Please! Don’t do that! I’m begging!”

 There was something else that Lewis wasn’t saying, he could scarcely make it out in those gleaming eyes. But the utter desperation and remorse reverberating in that ‘voice’, he couldn’t bear to ask and witness the rush of agony. Lance didn’t understand, but the topic pained Lewis in some undefined way. Or, it could’ve been a trick of the light.

Lance took another step back, hitting the wall behind him. “I hear ya, they won’t… Yu have mah word.” The skull retained its defensive countenance, and he struggled to overlay what a living Lewis might’ve looked like right now.

 “They uh… they’re likely waiting on yu. Art and Vii,,” Lance took a work rag from his belt and swept it across his face.. “Lewis, listen. I want to— You’ve always been a good kid.” How did he say this? “I worry abou’ ‘em, and I’m worrin’ more now thinking about… all this. You can’t, I mean – I know I can’t— I don’t want what happen….” There wasn’t a good way to deliver the request, so he gave up in a long-winded sigh.

 “I’m headed off now.” Lance moved down the corridor, but only got three steps before he about-faced and marched back. “I did’t park out front.” He inched by Lewis and made it another five steps, then swung back. “It was good seein’ yu again. Yu gunna be around an’—” Before he finished, a flash of flames engulfed the figure and in the curling ash remained nothing but a faint outline. In short time, as Lance’s eyes readjusted, the murky impression faded.

 “I’ll take that as a no….”

  __

  In the time that Lance took Lewis aside for a short exchange, Arthur had relocated upstairs to his work room where he currently perused through his personal gear and spare parts. When Vivi made certain Arthur would take it easy and not stress, she left to pick up some food for the evening. Given everything that went down, neither was inspired to head back to her apartment and try getting back on track. Work, even casual work stuff, could wait.

 “None of the work gear got mucked with,” Arthur mentioned offhand, when Lewis materialized in a plume of heat in the doorway. He lay reclined on the sofa, his head resting on Mystery’s back while his legs sat propped by the arm rest. “Dunno how long the guy was working, since closing. Arms are easy to build, for the most part. But that paranormal stuff is kinda pricey.”

 He leaned his head up to see Lewis better, when the spirit glided over behind the couch. The skull and death suit, any number of reasons why. Could’ve forgotten in all the chaos, or didn’t care. “How you holdin’ up?”

 “Fantastic,” Lewis wheezed. “I have one fear now.”

 That didn’t sound good. Arthur pondered if he should tease the subject further, but given the vibrant tension smoldering around Lewis he decided any other day might work better. He adjusted the new ice bag on his forehead and shut his eyes.

 “Why didn’t you just, y’know, disappear? You’re good at that.” He opened his eyes and winced. Lewis was leaning on the couch, glaring down at him.

 “Wasn’t really keen on leaving you in the care of your Uncle, regardless of good intentions.” Lewis lifted one arm from the couch and touched the locket thudding on his chest. “Did not expect him to go full Ash Williams with handling threats. Where’s Vivi?”

 Mystery woofed.

 “You should get some rest while you can,” Lewis offered. “It’d be safe now.”

 Something in Lewis’ tone made Arthur leery. “You gunna keep an eye on me?”

 “I won’t go anywhere without telling you.”

 Mystery twisted his body around enough to nuzzle Arthur’s hair.

 “I have a sneaky suspicion I should keep an eye on you.” The glare subsided, but Lewis still seemed peeved. Arthur edged a little away from the spirit, pulling his body more over onto the coffee table. “You’re not planning on going anywhere. Are you?”

 “Absolutely not.”

 “Damn it Lewis, I can’t tell if you think you’re being subtle or an ass. Knock it off.” Lewis expression shifted no miniscule way, aside from the faint waver of his burning eyes. Was it possible they looked much hotter than usual? “I’ll update security, put some better locks on the doors – not that it ever stopped thugs from breaking in before.” That’s why Lance had the shotgun. “We can’t go any further. We shouldn’t. And I’m ‘bout done with this.”

 “How ‘bout I find this guy anyway?” Lewis stood away from the couch. “A little more inspiration, to assure they won’t even dream of setting foot here, ever again.”

 Arthur got off the couch and went over to the boxes of gear, digging through the packing. “What is this fixation you have with revenge? What you’ll wind up doing is, draw too much attention to us. In our hometown no less. Get a grip!”

 “My frien—” Lewis let his tone sputter out not too gracefully, and backtracked on the sentence. “You get creamed, I got shot up – I think I’m entitled to invoke a lil retribution.”

 Arthur pulled out some equipment and set it carefully aside. Damn, it was tedious doing anything one handed. “You scared him off. That was enough!”

 Mystery was glancing back and forth between the two. Where the hell was Vivi?

 “It’s not enough,” Lewis hissed. “We’re in a fine fix on account of that-that… delincuente. And I will make certain he never comes back! What are you looking for?”

 Arthur dumped one of the energy readers. “Where the heck is Vivi?”

 Lewis crossed his arms. “She’d tots be on board with this scheme, and you know it.” Arthur deflated over the box.

 “Shit, you’re right.” Lewis leaned over him.

 “Tell me what you’re looking for, Arthur.”

 Arthur cowered under the shadow. “I’ll tell you one thing, it has nothing to do with you.” Lewis’ eyes burned brighter.

 “You’re lying to me, aren’t you?”

 Arthur snapped his fingers. “Shoot! Damn. Can’t get one by you, can I?”

 Mystery rolled his eyes and face palmed. He bled, for this?

 It was not long later that Vivi was standing in the doorway with groceries, beholding as Lewis and Arthur went at each other. She had NO IDEA what was going on, it was the midpoint of some consecutive theme, bouncing around the argument that Arthur was being too passive. For Arthur’s credit, he looked like he was trying to haul Lewis up by the lapels of his death suit. It was quite the sight to walk in on. The scarce traces of embers bristled around the room, and Mystery was trying to keep them from alighting on anything flammable. Anything flammable seemed to be everything.

 “—you let that thing into my home. Practically invited it!” Lewis screeched.

 “What home?” Arthur snarled. “The mansion?”

 “I don’t recall owning costal real estate!”

 Vivi took a breath and raised her voice. “Hey, you guys gunna be okay?”

 Lewis and Arthur simultaneous spat, “NO!”

 She turned to Galahad, bundled in her scarf. “At least they agree on something.”

 “You don’t own anything!” Arthur rebuked. “You just haunt some place and—” Lewis pointed down at Arthur.

 “Don’t you dare go there, Kingsman.”

 In a mad dash, Vivi left Galahad to Mystery and shoved herself between the two, breaking Arthur’s grip on Lewis. “Enough! The both of you can just take two big boy steps away.” Lewis reversed a step due to her full body shoving, but he held his glower on Arthur. “All right, listen! We all had an arguably fucked up evening, but we are not doing this tonight! Both of you! That’ll be enough!” She gave Lewis a harder shove, to dislodge him fully.

 “You never had a temper like this!” Arthur snapped back, while Mystery tugged him away by the back of his vest. “The littlest things piss you off. How am I supposed to work around you when you got all these… these barriers, everywhere!” He stamped his foot.

 “I’ve been somewhat overheated since my ultimately demise,” Lewis grated, “but I have been trying very-very hard to be very-very-VERRRY patient. All the same, you make that so difficult.”

 At least he wasn’t resisting her asserted relocation. “And we are so proud of you,” Vivi snapped. “You’ve been working so hard, hasn’t he Arthur?” She glanced back

 Arthur blinked. “Are YOU kidding me!”

 “Oh my lor—  Hasn’t! He! ARR! THUR!”

 Arthur slapped his face. “FINE! The bare minimal, what’s the bare minimal? You didn’t roast Uncle, like you almost roasted me and Vii! I’m so ecstatic! Ya get a Gold Star!”

 Lewis shifted against her palms, but seemed to calm down and eased out of leaning. The embers still lingering around the room snuffed out, leaving only the kindling scent. “Yeaah,” Lewis hummed.

 There was no way to oppose that. He wouldn’t admit Arthur was right, but he did have a point. It was a lot to deal with, and not a lot of time allocated to process. Though, it wasn’t just getting shot a dozen times and dealing with Uncle Lance all in the same hour; then, the expectation of carrying on, like nothing happened – all of it scorched him. He was a little more than irritated, and he was… afraid. Afraid, when he didn’t reach Arthur in time, and frustrated he didn’t have the foresight to restrain the intruder; more than that, fretful and unsatisfied by what was left. None of this he could convey practically, yet he… he couldn’t hide it either. There was a lot he couldn’t really conceal, ignore, or repress. He could do better, but it was... hard. They didn’t know how hard this was.

 The other three went quiet, as well. Arthur hadn’t dropped his hyper-lazer scowl, as if expecting some form of reckless objection – though Lewis was fresh out of those. One of Vivi’s arms remained braced across his chest, though her full-bodied leaning had regressed by multitudes. In the beats preluding his lockets dull thrum, the tension began to ebb.

 At last, Lewis broke the silence, “That… would’ve been excessive, yes? He meant well, after all.” The fluorescent light flickered, like the flutter of a heartbeat. “Though not gonna lie,” he hissed, “I was on the fence about socking him.”

 Vivi smacked her head against his chest and gave a muffled scream. You could have not said anything!

 “It was getting a strong debate. I mean, he shot me like four times.”

 “It was fifteen— Wait, I missed that.” Mystery released Arthur’s shirt, and he nearly toppled forward. “Okay. I’m…. I wanna understand, Lew. You and me, and Vivi, we have to talk about this. I don’t want you to do this.”

 Vivi brought her gaze up to Lewis. “What? Wait… what is he talking about?” It dawned on her the next second, who could possibly be deserving of a nasty visit. “Artie,” she groaned, “C’mon….”

 “Not helping,” he growled.

 “Fine,” Lewis grated, ember eyes flashing. “Have it your way.”

 Arthur glared, unconvinced. “Lew.”

 “Give me the benefit of the doubt,” Lewis beseeched. Without jeopardizing his gaze, he brought a hand up and touched the locket. “I didn’t really believe further involvement on my part was necessary. I’m just… I need some time to think. To… get a grip.”

 “Like literally,” Arthur huffed. He cleared his throat and tottered back, when Vivi delivered a scathing glare of her own. “Fine! Done. I’ll sleep better knowing I didn’t have a hand in someone else’s ultimately demise.” He gave Lewis a sharp look, before spinning away.

 Lewis stood to the side, gazing off as if he didn’t know what to do now or where to relocate. Vivi pointed a finger, directly into his bleached skull face – warning. His glower did deepen, as she left him to collect the bags left at the threshold.

 “Vivi,” his voice was distorted, echoey. “I’m heading back down to look around. When you get the chance, would you come meet me?”

 A note of shock crossed Arthur’s features, but upon the direct request the alarm faded. Vivi handed over the bags.

 “Sure,” she replied. She plucked Galahad up and set him on the couch, beside Arthur. To Arthur, she whispered, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

 “You both are making me so nervous.”

 “I won’t be gone long.” She kissed Arthur on the forehead, and set another bag of drinks beside him. “Try and relax, please?”

 Arthur took a breath and sighed. “I’ll give you three, before I start losin’ my mind.” He snared Galahad, before he could begin chewing at the supplies.

 Before leaving, she charged Mystery with looking after Arthur. She wasn’t confident Arthur was fully out of the woods yet, despite Lewis’ assurance.

 The workspace of the garage seemed infinitely more barren and silent, once all the excitement had aired out completely. Uncle Lance would’ve under normal circumstance shut down the lights through the entire building, save for the upper floor. As she crossed the floor, she was almost afraid the place was utterly abandoned. Not that this would matter to her, but Arthur’s distress was cause for concern. The argument between he and Lewis was nearly lost on her, but given the day it didn’t take much to deduce her living friends hesitation.

 When she rounded the sportscar, Vivi uttered a squeak of relief. “I thought maybe you’d already taken off.”

 Lewis actually maintained his solidity and rotated his skull, then his shoulders, but only a margin. “No. I was thinking.” He was examining the space beside the toolcart, where they located the bag of Arthur’s crafts. A number of orbs bobbed around Lewis, while he contemplated.

 “Personally, I would prefer you go after this guy,” she admitted. She stepped up alongside Lewis, and gave the area a brief but mortal search. “But what would that solve?” Vivi wasn’t certain if he was aware the living guise was not restored yet, or if his focus was out of whack.

 “Not a lot, I suppose,” he uttered, voice rustling. “I might head over to your apartment, and rest there for a bit.”

 She meant to say, ‘You don’t have to, unless you want’. But what came out was, “I don’t think you should.”

 “I’ll be well enough. So will Art,” Lewis replied. His skull adjusted, lifting a little higher than anticipated above his crisp white collar. “He and I… well, you saw.” There was something else indistinct to that tone, but it was choppy and a trial to translate. “I’ve never seen him so mad before. Not even on a botched assignment.”

 Arthur had many fears, both grand or miniscule threats to his personal being. There were methods to supersede the private terrors which confronted him.

 “You gunna be all right?” she posed, while reaching out to his hand. But stopped herself.

 “The concern is appreciated, though I don’t think… well, I wouldn’t be in any peril.” Lewis turned fully to Vivi and set his hands on either of her shoulders, he leaned down and set the upper edge of his jaw against her bangs. An endearing skeleton kiss.

 Vivi couldn’t help but giggle. “We’ll come by and check on you in the morning.” As Lewis backed away, his shape and color drained out beneath the blazing illumination of the lamps above.

 “By then, we should have cooled down.” With a surge of embers, Lewis vanished entirely. His words continued to ring out, however, “No dejes Arthur to worry. He can do with taking better care of himself, for a change.”

 Uncertain if Lewis was still present or not, Vivi went ahead and left the area. She called, “I’ll remind him, like usual. It’s a task easier said than done.” The atmosphere was completely palpable, when Lewis abandoned the area completely. Likely due to the anticipation, the sensation of being observed from afar evaporated. She had her suspicions, but she wanted to take Lewis’ word on the matter.

 The lights too emptied out of the open airspace of the work floor, when she snapped the switches off. Her course from the entry corridor and to the ascending steps was very lonely, her perception becoming constrained with each set of lamps clicked off. A penetrating silence moved through her, while an overbearing draft kneaded her muscles. Her hand traced the wall with her ascent, each step calculated, cautious should Galahad have made his way down the steps on the behest of his most favorite person.

 When she reached the private workroom, she found Arthur already fast asleep. That was good, she reckoned. Both for his bruised body, and the emotional expulsion. Arthur was entirely out cold, his good arm curled beneath his cheek and the muscles in his face relaxed – she could scarcely make out his breathing, until she closed in further. Nestled against his neck, a small ball of puff and metal.

 Across Arthur’s folded legs lay Mystery, his bright eyes observed Vivi as she approached. On the ground beside the couch, rested a few crumpled wrappers of junk food and an open can of coffee drink; the caffeine no match to physical or mental exhaustion.

 “Tomorrow might not be better than today,” Vivi hummed. She took a rumpled blanket from the couches back and lay it around her friends. “But it’ll deliver us further away. The only constant is that days are relentless, whether we want them or not. Take us on a journey, and though we never can return to once ways.”

 She climbed onto the couch, close beside Mystery so she could lean over and scratch his neck. “There’s a place awaiting us, ready to receive the person we became. Indifferent to the changes, next year only wants to see us arrive. Scars aside, hurt and disappointment, blessings all the same. When we arrive, there will be no resentment. Celebrate who we are, and mourn the loss of who we once were. There is no turning back, and no regret, if our steps are steadfast. Survival is an artform, and I’m a masterful composer. The colors I use on my canvas will never dull. No matter how far we travel down the road, at my core I am complete.

 Mystery arched his head up and licked at her hand.

 “If I wasn’t, my world would crumble. Without you, the bridges fail. And the peril will never end, without you. Without you, there’s no place like home. No where to go. Without you I’d lose my way, caught up in the shadows of long-lost days.”

 In the stillness of the small workroom, Vivi drifted off into a deep slumber. Perhaps assisted, perhaps not. One aspect was for certain, as it became a certainty that Vivi was well and asleep, the light of the room doused completely. The door creaked on its hinges, as an imposing silhouette eased back trailing a rose tinged vapor of light.

[unstoppablezombie]

The Last of Us Part II thoughts and opinions

I finished my second playthrough last night. I think I’m ready to finally share what I thought was amazing, my issues with it, and the concerns I have for the future. This post will be lengthy, I understand if you won’t read all of it, but I’m going to try my best to break it up and organize it so if there’s a part you’d want to know if you’d relate to, you can jump to that. But I think it’ll be worth the read, and if you want to discuss how your thoughts are the same or if they differ, I’m open to have a civil discussion about it. These are all 100% my opinions. I highly recommend playing the game start to finish first to form your own opinions as well. There will be spoilers. This is your warning.

What I loved:

Ellie

She deserves her own category. Since the first game I loved her character and my love for her only grew in part II. She is the probably the best and most relatable female protagonist anyone could ask for. At least for me she is. I enjoyed every second I got to play as her. Especially during the birthday flashback and barn scene with Dina and JJ.

New characters

To be honest, the only new character I truly cared for was Dina. I wish we got to have her as a companion longer and got to know more about her. From what we picked up along the way, she was perfect match for Ellie. Lev was cool (or cold as he likes to say), but I didn’t grow attached to him like others.

Representation

Although I wish we saw more of them, I think Ellie and Dina’s relationship was absolutely beautiful and heartwarming (besides the ending, which I will talk about later). I truly think this is a step in the right direction for representation in video games for any LGBTQ relationships, and I truly hope there will be a part III or DLC to showcase Ellie and Dina more positive outcome (even though Neil Druckman went on record saying there’s no plans for DLC or a Part III, but I don’t believe him)

Gameplay

The combat and animation system was S tier. The “feel” of it is smooth and weapons feel powerful. Once I got the hang of dodge and going prone, I was obsessed with staying in stealth mode (I prefer Ellie’s stealth kill animation over Abby’s). There’s also this awesome new animation where if you hurt the last enemy but they’re not dead yet, you can slowly walk up to them and do this brutal melee finisher move. Felt like a badass everytime.

I also loved how the increase in creepy/dark/eerie areas. Stalkers are a lot scarier than the first game and the rat king boss fight was like it was out of a resident evil game.

The Little Things

I fell in love with the little details: the lighting in every scene, pull an arrow out of your shoulder, safe puzzles and weapon bench animations, how Ellie/Abby looks when opening a door, flashlight, THE MUSIC! The score and music choices along the way (future days and take me on)

What I didn’t like

Abby

Not going to lie to you folks, even after 2 playthroughs, I hated every second playing as Abby. The only scenes I didn’t mind was the “afraid of heights” segment with Lev and the rat king fight. Although ND attempted to have me sympathize with her as a character, it never stuck. I will be fair, I see the humanity in her, especially when she’s with Lev and the fact Lev basically told her to save Dina and Ellie, but without Lev, I don’t care for her.

Any of the characters that had to do with Abby’s story

I don’t think it’s possible for me to care anymore less for her relationship with Owen or any of her friends. Pretty much any time that was taken away from me playing as Ellie or anything to do with Ellie’s story line, I felt it was wasting time.

We needed more heartwarming moments

We got the birthday flashback, the barn house scene, when you find out Joel tried to get into Ellie’s favorite comic book, and some other little moments in between. I truly believe the reason why a lot of us love TLOU is because of the love between Ellie and Joel, the things that made our hearts a bit warmer, and even the ending of the first game, we had something to hold in our hearts, we knew Joel and Ellie were together. In Part II, we end with Ellie walking away with her loss of everything. She lost Dina, JJ, and the ability to play guitar. Basically, everything she loved was lost. (I will circle back to this at the end).

The ending

This can go up for debate, but I think the ending was left way too much for interpretation. I think ND could’ve given some direction on where Ellie is headed. If she’s going to Jackson, going out on her own. I mean, especially since ND is being very abrasive about if there’s going to be another game or not. I think the ending was cruel, especially those of us (which I think is a lot, probably 90% of TLOU community) that holds Ellie in our hearts dearly and always will.

Post Edit: I forgot to mention that I don’t think it’s talked about enough that Ellie saved Abby. If Ellie never went back for her final attempt for revenge, Abby would’ve never made it.

My concerns for the future

Neil has gone on record multiple times there’s no plans on a DLC or a part III (he says the next best idea will be the one they go with, whether that’s a new IP or TLOU). However, the way they set up Part II, introducing new characters and the way the menu changes to Catalina island (indicating to us Abby and Lev made it). I’m afraid that IF there is a DLC or Part III, Ellie won’t be the main protagonist. Which, would 1000% break my heart if that’s the case, and honestly, I probably will not play it if Ellie isn’t apart of it.

In the recent Kinda Funny Games gamescast, Neil was oddly quiet when asked where Abby and Lev end up besides alluding that menu once completing the game is Catalina island. But when asking about where Ellie ends up, he openly says he doesn’t know and no one really has thought about it.

There are a lot of people saying they prefer Abby storyline over Ellie (I respect your opinion if you think that, but if that’s what you truly believe, I think you’re wrong and I don’t trust you) and I truly am concerned that this game is the last we will see from Ellie. That’s the last thing I want. I will feel a lot better if ND will publicly state if this was the end or not, but regardless, we deserve closure. Whether it be a better ending for Ellie or just telling the fans if there’s no hope.

I think at the very least, we should get a DLC, showing Ellie’s quest to find Dina or give her an ending that’s more justified for the fans that care about her.

Final thoughts

I think the game was beautifully crafted, it made me feel things I didn’t think was possible for a game to do. I think we can all agree that the game was gorgeous, the actors did a PHENOMENAL job (whether you love or hate their characters), and the story is one that will be talked about for a while. In the end, naughty dog made the game and it’s done. No matter how many of us share our opinions or thoughts, nothings going to change what was given to us.

There are people who are hating on the game without playing it and giving the models and actors grief and hate about the game. Which is dumb and counterproductive. Hate the character, not the model and/or actor. I plan on playing the game again to get the platinum trophy (just missing the artifacts and collectibles), after that, I plan on taking a break and clearing my head. Part II was a very heavy game. When I was done with the first clear, I had to not play it for a day or two cause I was feeling ill and anxious.

Some can say she lost everything because of vengeance and her ego for revenge, but I think a major point the game tried to point out is Ellie is at peace with her loss and she can move onto what will give her life meaning. In previous paragraph I mentioned how her and Joel love is one of the major reasons we adore TLOU, but I think even with Joel dead, I think love can still be the main incentive to keep moving forward. The words that keep coming back in my mind is what Joel says to her at the end of the first game “no matter what, you keep finding something to fight for” and I hope we will be able to experience her next motivation.

Overall, despite the issues I had, I still love the game. It’s still my favorite form of media. I still love the fact we have such a beautiful, badass, lesbian protagonist in a video game. I try to voice that to Neil and Naughty Dog whenever I can and I hope he can see the importance in keeping Ellie as a character for more iterations. I’m remaining cautiously optimistic we will see more of Ellie.

I’m sure there are other things that I forgot to include, but those are the major things that stuck out to me.

[myaekingheart]

140. Dog Days

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3 index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

               Rei’s hand skated across the mattress to slam the snooze button. The sun was far too bright and her stomach unbearable, and all the while all she could think about was her job. The aftermath of the previous day had left her unhinged and out of control. She spent the entire night on the bathroom floor, waking intermittently to puke. It had to have been five in the morning when Kakashi scooped her up in his arms and carried her back to bed, rubbing her back and brushing the matted hair out of her sticky face. She wondered where he was now, what time it was. Did he have a mission today? Or was he off running errands? She couldn’t remember through the thick haze in her mind.

               And then the bedroom door creaked open and Toshio nosed her forearm from the edge of the mattress, whining. Rei tucked her head under her pillow and swatted lightly at his snout, moaning “Not now, go let yourself out.” He was a smart dog, she was sure he could relieve himself on his own accord. But then she heard footsteps, the tender and steady gait of her fiancé, and then Kakashi was by her side.

               “Rei, get up” he whispered, brushing his hand along her freckled shoulder.

               She poked her head out from under her pillow for only a moment, glaring at him. “I’m tired, leave me alone” she croaked.

               “Not possible” Kakashi replied, shaking his head. He tugged the blankets back, much to her dismay, and urged her to sit upright. “We have things to do today.”

               “Oh, really?” Rei asked, mockingly. “Like what?” She smacked her lips, her mouth dry and rancid, and reached for the glass of water on the end table.

               Kakashi tried to fight the small smile threatening his lips. “We’re going on a picnic.”

               Rei choked on her drink, spluttering into the crook of her elbow. Kakashi set her glass down and patted her back lightly in an effort to help her regain her composure. “I’m sorry, we’re doing what?” she gasped.

               Nodding, Kakashi repeated, “A picnic. You, me, and the dogs.” Grabbing the kunai from his dresser, he pricked his thumb and pressed it hard against the floor. In a puff of smoke, all eight of his ninken appeared in their bedroom.

               “Hey, Kakashi. What’s up?” Pakkun’s gruff voice greeted. Toshio immediately leapt into the fray, sniffing and barking at the other dogs in delight. It wasn’t often that he got to spend time with Kakashi’s ninja hounds, so he clearly took great joy in such a rare treat.

               Smiling, Kakashi explained the situation to his dogs. Rei listened closely herself, trying to parse some sort of rationality as to why Kakashi thought this was a good idea. He kept his voice low, however, as if this was a surprise for his fiancée specifically. The ninken all seemed to nod along in eager agreement to his plan.

               “Kakashi, do we really have to do this today?” Rei whined once her fiancé was finished. “I feel like shit, I just want to stay in bed.”

               “Do you think that will make you feel any better?” he asked.

               “…yes” Rei replied bluntly.

               Sighing, Kakashi shook his head and settled on the edge of the bed beside her. “I know this has been a lot. I know you’ve been feeling terrible, but I think the fresh air and the sunlight will do you some good. It’s not healthy to stay hidden away in bed all day like this” he explained. His eyes skated to the chakra plants on her windowsill. Hers was already beginning to sag. “You need fresh air and sunlight and good food. You need to stay healthy, Rei. For us.” Here, he pressed a gentle hand to her stomach, a reminder of the life growing inside of her. Of the reason for her suffering. Wasn’t it reason enough to push through the pain?

               Rei turned her gaze to the dogs then jumping and panting happily. A soft, sympathetic smile tugged at her lips. “Well, they all seem pretty excited about this, so…I guess I can’t stand to tell them no” she murmured. And really, seeing Toshio so happy for the socialization was enough to convince her. He was never as happy as he was when surrounded by other ninja hounds.

               Rei got ready slowly as Kakashi stood in the kitchen packing them a lunch. He opened the windows and let the dogs sprawl out in the living room as he worked, tongues lopping out of the sides of their mouths and panting peacefully. It was a brutally hot, bright day, ripe with the promise of early summer. Rei pulled her hair back haphazardly into her signature ponytail, pausing for only a moment to frown at her wonky reflection. She ran a hand over her stomach and swore that she was already beginning to show.

               Rei held Kakashi’s hand tightly as they weaved through the weekend crowds toward the park. The dogs romped and played all the way there, truly alive with the warm, sweet, summer air. There was something so intrinsically heartwarming about the sight of them, something almost healing. Besides, how often did they even get a chance to relax? So often they were merely companions in battle. They needed this respite as much as Rei did.

               Kakashi set up camp for them under the thick coverage of a rather large tree by the river. He spread their blanket out, floral and fading, and began setting out their food. Rei, meanwhile, waded toward the shoreline, kicking her shoes off as she went. The grass was damp and coarse beneath her feet, the riverbank muddy. She crouched down anyway to dip her toes into the water, rushing cool and refreshing. Minnows circles her ankles as her presence disrupted their flow. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back toward the sun, tried to let it melt away the weight of her worries and the funk of her morning sickness. Unfortunately, she was not entirely successful. Her shoulders were still heavy with all that lie ahead.

               “Rei!” Kakashi suddenly called across the field. Rei turned to meet his gaze, smiling at her through his mask. “Ready to come eat?” With a single nod, Rei shook the water off her feet, gathered her sandals, and returned to him. She plopped down cross-legged on the blanket beside him and drew the bento box cautiously up into her lap. Kakashi had evidently gone to great lengths to make a quality lunch for her, complete with onigiri shaped like smiling little dogs. In the back of her mind, she wondered if he was already practicing for their child’s school lunches. A shiver ran down her spine—though whether it was wholesome anticipation, or uncertain anxiety, she wasn’t quite sure.

               Kakashi discretely ate his food as he watched the dogs splash through the river and chase each other into the grass. A small smile touched his lips as he drew his mask quickly back up over his face and reached over to take Rei’s hand in his. “You know what this reminds me of?” he asked.

               “What?” Rei replied.

               Turning to her, Kakashi brushed the hair out of her face and replied, “Remember that time you helped me give the dogs flea baths?”

               “And they shoved us together and made us kiss?” Rei laughed. “How could I forget?”

               “God, that had to have been, what? Four years ago now? Six?” Kakashi mused.

               “Eight, I think” Rei corrected. “I had just joined the black ops. You were twenty, and I was eighteen. Right?”

               Kakashi shook his head in disbelief. “Eight years” he sighed. “It still feels like it was just yesterday.”

               “I guess time flies when you’re having fun” Rei jested, poking Kakashi’s shoulder. Her engagement ring glinted in the summer sun, filling her with an unavoidable sense of nostalgia. She gazed down at it longingly, pressed her opposite hand to her stomach. “We’ve come so far” she added wistfully.

               Kakashi nodded, lifting her left hand up to plant a gentle kiss on her knuckles through his mask. “Mmhmm. Soon we’ll be married, and become parents” he said, resting his hand atop Rei’s on her stomach.

               “It feels like it’s all happening so fast” she whispered.

               “Well, like you said” Kakashi replied, “time flies when you’re having fun, right?”

               Laughing lightly, Rei replied, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

               Kakashi watched her for a moment longer, studying the uncertainty that she tried so hard to hide from her face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

               Without lifting her gaze, Rei nodded and replied, “Yeah, I’m just…thinking.”

               “About what?”

               “I don’t know, just…everything?” Rei pursed her lips and sucked in a deep breath. “There’s just…a lot to consider. I mean, I already had to back out of my job”—here, her voice cracked and it was clear that this was still a tender subject for her. “And now I guess the next thing is figuring out the wedding.” How was a pregnancy even going to factor into something like this? Her mind swirled with thoughts of wedding dresses and tiered cakes, ultrasounds and speculums, nurseries and honeymoons and childbirth and I do’s. Rei’s stomach began to churn. “Maybe we should’ve just gotten married at the registrar’s office after all” she muttered.

               Kakashi frowned. “Don’t say that. We can still manage a proper wedding” he replied. Quite frankly, he wasn’t sure how, either, but he tried to remain optimistic. Where there’s a will, there’s a way and it was no secret that the Will of Fire burned brightly within both of them. “Besides, if nothing else” Kakashi then said, chuckling softly, “You’ll just have to be a pregnant bride.”

               Rei gasped, reaching across their picnic blanket to playfully slap him on the arm. “Don’t say that!” she laughed. I’d look like a giant marshmallow, she thought to herself. The thought of it only further heightened her nausea.

               “What?” Kakashi laughed. “It’s a possibility.”

               “It better not be!” Rei countered.

               Kakashi grinned beneath his mask. “I don’t know, I think you’d look pretty cute in a wedding dress with the baby bump.” Rei made a stink face in obvious protest. Sensing her obvious displeasure, Kakashi intertwined his fingers with hers and rubbed the back of her hand sweetly. “I mean it” he assured her. “I don’t think you’d look any less beautiful because of it. If anything, I think it would make me even more excited to marry you.”

               “Oh really?” Rei asked, cocking a brow. “And how do you figure that?”

               “Because” he began, locking his eyes on her, “it would just feel that much more meaningful. Like I’m really committing myself to loving and caring for you and this child for the rest of my life. Like a true rite of passage into our future. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

               Rei’s heart melted at his sincere devotion, a dreamy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re such a sap, Kakashi. You know that?” she murmured with a light, airy laugh.

               “I do my best” Kakashi beamed, clearly triumphant.

               As she drew her hand back, Rei dropped her gaze to her lunch and began poking at the bed of leafy greens beneath her onigiri. “I just hope the wedding dress will still fit, or else I’m going to need a lot of alterations.” She smoothed her tunic out over her stomach with her free hand, idling for a moment at the waist of her pants and suppressing the instinctual frown threatening her lips. In the back of her mind, she saw herself evolve at warp speed, her belly constantly expanding until she was full to bursting. She was on the cusp of unimaginable change. Her stomach lurched and she forced herself to swallow down the lump in her throat. Without another moment of hesitation, she pushed her bento box to the wayside.

               “You’re not hungry?” Kakashi asked, cocking a brow.

               “Not after last night” Rei muttered. She could still feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor pressing against her knees, the echo of her retching from within the toilet bowl.

               Kakashi frowned. “You still need to eat something” he said. He returned his hand to her belly, caressed it tenderly. “You need to stay healthy and strong so that our child can grow to be healthy and strong, too.”

               “I know” Rei pouted. “It’s just hard to eat when everything makes me feel so sick.”

               Reaching toward the bento box, Kakashi handed her one of the onigiri. “At least try to eat the rice. That should be easier on your stomach” he offered. Presented like that, Rei knew there was really no room to refuse. She took the little rice ball carefully, holding it as delicately as a bomb, and took small, apathetic nibbles. It almost felt wrong, the way it was staring back at her with those doleful doggy eyes. She always felt guilty eating food shaped like animals. While her hesitancy was not what Kakashi had hoped for, at least it was a start. At least she was eating something.

               “So have you figured out the details for that trip yet?” she then asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

               Kakashi grinned and Rei wasn’t sure whether she ought to feel excited or concerned. “I have some things in mind” he replied, “but I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait and see.”

               “What?!” Rei gasped, laughing. “That’s rude! Why aren’t I allowed to know?”

               “Well, that would ruin the surprise” Kakashi mused.

               Groaning, Rei buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “Kakashi, I’m so tired of surprises” she complained. “Can’t you just please tell me where you’re taking me?”

               Kakashi shook his head definitively. “Sorry, but I’m afraid no level of pouting is going to get any information out of me” he said. Frowning, Rei rolled her eyes and drew her knees up to her chest. Shouldn’t Kakashi know better than to pick on a pregnant woman like this? She only wanted answers. Kakashi couldn’t help but find her absolutely adorable seeing her pout like that. Scooting nearer, he brushed her bangs away from her face and kissed her cheek as he assured her, “Just trust me. You’ll thank me later.”

               “Yeah, okay” Rei scoffed. “We’ll see about that, Kakashi.” Pursing her lips, she rubbed her forearms anxiously before finally stretching her aching legs back out in front of her. Toshio presently came running toward them, spotted tongue lopping out of the side of his mouth. He skidded to a halt and crouched down in front of Rei, butt wiggling in the air, before barking and lunging at her playfully. He whipped around to chase his tail, biting at his behind, before pausing, barking in her face again, and spinning in the other direction. Rei lifted an arm up in front of her face to shield herself, laughing with the knowledge that Toshio would never hurt her, and quickly reached for a nearby stick to hurl back toward the lake. Toshio froze, eyes wide and mouth shut but tongue still hanging over the side, as she waved the stick in his face then launched it clear across the field. The dog spared no expense as he whipped around and darted off after it at full speed.

               By the time evening had draped over Konoha, the dogs had grown sleepy and lethargic. They trudged back home behind Kakashi and Rei with dragging paws and heavy panting. Rei rested her head against Kakashi’s shoulder as they went, slowly so as to not upset her sensitive stomach. She locked her fingers with his and thought of the large precipice sprawling before them. How many more days like this would they have? How much time did they have left before their lives were irrevocably disrupted by the child growing inside of her? Rei clenched her tunic lightly and swallowed back her fear.

               Truthfully, over the past few days she had only flicked idly through the pamphlets from the doctor’s office. It was as if every time she came near them, her anxiety shot up into her throat like a rocket ready to explode. It didn’t matter how calm and collected she tried to remain. Her panic always triumphed. Deep down, Rei knew the naked truth: she had been blind to how involved having a baby truly was. Obviously she knew that pregnancy was an overwhelming journey of immense change but it held no true weight to her then. She wasn’t in it and therefore couldn’t feel it. In the past few days, however, reality had punched her squarely in the gut. She didn’t want to believe that Sekkachi may have been right when she accused Rei of seeing things through rose-colored glasses. It felt like a petty assumption, an insult. The anxiety that had since taken root in Rei’s stomach, however, was all too real.

               Clenching her jaw, Rei squeezed Kakashi’s hand lightly and swallowed back all of those negative, pounding thoughts. Reminded herself that it would all be worth it in the end. They were having a baby. This was meant to be one of those most fascinating and joyous times of her life. And besides, wasn’t this what she had always wanted anyway? A sweet little baby to have and to hold, the perfect combination of her and the man that she loved? Ever since those days of her youth when she would shove her baby doll up her shirt and rope Kakashi into playing games of house. Wasn’t this what she had wanted all along? There was no room for uncertainty or fear. Not now. This was happening whether she was truly ready for it or not.

               Sensing her unease, Kakashi turned to her as they turned the corner and squeezed her hand back lightly. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you feel sick again? I can carry you the rest of the way if you want.”

               The thought of him scooping her up in his arms  was equal parts heartwarming and ridiculous. Rei suppressed a smile, shook her head. “I’m alright” she smiled politely. “Just…thinking.”

               “About the baby?” he asked. Rei nodded. “Is everything okay?”

               Rei swallowed back her fear, forced a smile on her face. “Yeah” she whispered. “Yeah, everything’s just fine.” Even if she didn’t fully believe it herself yet, she needed to force herself to believe it. She needed to convince herself that she was capable, prepared, strong. Yet again, there was no room for uncertainty or fear. No room for second-guessing and rose-colored glasses. This was her life now. Ready or not, they were going to have a baby.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

Judge, Jury and Peter  | AU!Peter Parker x Male!reader

Words: 4360

A/N: This is something I’ve always wanted to write. The setting and characters as a whole are something I hope to explore more in the future. But for now, this is it. I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

———-

The wooden beams creaked eerily as your leather boot rested on the last step of the staircase. Your eyes scour into the leading corridor. Vigilant of your surroundings, searching the darkness for the slightest movement. Through the red and orange tongues of fire that were consuming the floor. Crackling, as the fire hungrily fed itself on the wooden construction. Rapidly climbing up the wall, gripping every opportunity to expand.

From your point of view, you could easily sense the nefarious footprints, mismatched, and each foot of different size. The dark energies that brought forth this wicked evil radiated from the blackened wood. Its tracks leading further down the hallway. With the wide brim of your hat, you shield yourself from the dancing flames consuming the roof, casting an orange glow down the hall. The damage was insignificant compared to the innocent lives lost in previous days.

The horror was unforeseen. Slaughtering the innocent. Unnecessary bloodshed because of an incompetent Burgomeister. Your blood boils warm by the thought of the many lives there could have been saved if they acted quicker. 

Yet you need not any guidance nor clues to know where to move next. The terrified screams of a man echoed down the hall. With keen senses and sharp of mind. You cautiously stride down the hall—the flames licking at your boots and long black leather cape, hanging from your shoulders. Eyes fixated on the heavy oak door down the hall. You are aware that the heels of your boots announce your arrival. With every step, the hard leather thumped against the wood.

You let your gloved hand slide from the sheathed rapier. With such close quarters, it would only limit you. There was only one option.

One shot.

Reaching underneath your cloak, the palm of your hand meets the butt of your flintlock pistol. Carefully drawing it from its holster. With a click, the thumb of your hand cocks the hammer backward. The index finger resting on the trigger, teasing the spring of the mechanism. With the other hand, you clutch the symbol of your god, dangling around your neck. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you mutter a quick prayer to yourself. Bolstering your courage. Heighten your awareness and quicken your reflexes. Preparing you for the worst. As for the last twelve moons, you had witnessed enough horrors. Making you even more determined to end this.

Little light came from within the room itself. And as the door creaked open on its heavy hinges. You sight the abomination. The repugnant stench catches your nostrils. Sickening you. Revolting you. Even in your studies, you had never seen such cruelties. Patches of rotten skin, bulbous heaps of flesh, pulsating, hairy outgrowths, dripping with gory substances, sewn together by the fabric of ruinous magics. In horror, you watch its pseudo-corporeal body slump away from the desk. The creature had extended its arm, contorting its limb in inhuman ways, right through the desk to snatch the man. Indicating by the splinters and books scattered across the floor. Loathsome sounds came from its jaw as it animated in unusual ways. Before gaping wide open. The screams of the men, dangling in the monster’s grasps, brings you back to your senses.

Its head snapped towards you. Forcing you to meet it otherworldly gaze. Its sockets were devout of any life. Instead, deep, menacing orbs of humanlike size started glistened with a fiery green spark as it takes you in. Insane gibbering laughter cackled from its jaw. Revealing a set of malformed serrated fangs of various sizes. Raising its other arm, you gaze as the skin rips open, protruding claw-like blades from within the flesh. Gradually growing outward. 

You could feel it’s green light seep into you through your eyes. Clouding your thoughts, weakening you. Paralyzing your every nerve. Numbing your will. But with a quick prayer, you shake the blasphemous magic from your mind. Feeling the warmth radiate through your body. The strength returning to your arms and legs. 

In that time, the creature had taken steps towards you. Bringing it’s clawed arm up in such swiftness. Before striking it downwards on you. It seemed impossible that such a voluminous abhorrent lumping creature could move with such deadly swiftness. You lunge to the side, barely escaping the sword-like talons. Shaking the floor as the claw crashed with an unstoppable force. Trapping its claws into the hardwood floor.

A thunderous boom from the pistol echoed through the room. Drowning every other sound for moments. Covering the entity in a large plume of smoke. You would not allow the creature to take advantage of the situation any longer. It’s supernatural strength and speed were no match for you. But your weaponry was unmatched. 

And as the bullet tore a gaping hole through the rotten malformed flesh of its face. You discard the smoking pistol to the floor. Not giving the creature a moment to react. With great finesse, you surge forward, drawing your rapier. Striking across its unnatural arm holding the man. A searing purple mist erupts from the cut. Sizzling and burning, giving off a horrid stench. Before it disconnects from the body. Unnatural twitches shake and shudder the creature. It’s body writhing in agony. Stinking fluids gulp from the wounds onto the floor. As the man frees itself from its decapitated arm. You bring your rapier back to guard yourself and the helpless man behind you. Slowly stepping backward, as you asses the damage. The blubbering mess stumbled back and forth, careful not to get hit by its other arm. Still swinging around, its dark magic still bound to the heap of rotten flesh. Controlling its limbs in unnatural ways.

An uneasy feeling crept over you as you watch the skin grow and stretch. The dreadful sound of bones breaking and snapping intensifying it. All over its body, swollen masses of flesh began growing, stretching the skin. Horrifying gurgling noises become louder from the gaping hole of its once intact face.

“Get up!” You order to the man scrambling to his feet behind you, the horror painted on his face. Frozen to the spot. “Move!” Sheathing the blade, you turn to the man and dragging up him to his feet. Shielding him the best you can of what came next. Storming towards the door. Only a few meters away. You take the gamble and jump with the man in your arms. A gory explosion enveloped the room. The blast pushing you both the down into the hallway.

Gathering your breath. You raise yourself onto your feet. Dusting yourself down, as you slowly begin to regain your senses. Noticing the scenery behind you. Nothing but red smear painted these walls. Everything drenched in the horrible fluids of the accursed creature. The sight was one thing, but the smell was another. Nothing but death and decay.

On closer inspection, you counted yourself lucky, seeing the countless bone splinters burrowed into the walls. The more of the scenery you observe, the more questions arise. The extensive collection of books and parchments, shattered vials of herbal equipment.

A growled groan behind you draws your attention. Coming from the man lying on the floor. Facedown to the floor, groaning. Fortunately, still alive. A minor victory in your book.

You didn’t give the man a good look in the first place once you entered. But now with him seated against the wall. You can’t help but notice the young features. Under all the blood and bruises, you see a young, lively man. A kind face, “T-Thank you…” He stammers. “Stranger.” His voice was somber and rough. Doubled over in pain. Coughing heavily. Clutching his hands to his side.

“That’s not looking good.” Observing the crimson red-stained fabric between his hands. You’ve seen enough injuries by know to know that was a fatal one. Even without a proper look. That amount of blood loss was impossible to heal even by priests. The nearest would take at least half an hour to get there. Especially without your trusty steed.

“I’ll be fine.” He coughed out the words. Slowly rising to his feet. He couldn’t be much older than you. Mid-twenties possibly. Yet, he had a refreshing, optimistic atmosphere to him. Something strange. Handing your brim hat that lay beside him. Blown from the head by the blast.

“No, you’re not.” You snap angrily, taking the hat from him. Restoring it back on your head where it belonged. Straightening your coat and cape. Tightening the belts of equipment around your torso. “Priests are up far north. Without a proper steed, it will take you an hour to get there.”

“You’re quite young for a witch hunter.” He smiles thinly. Waiting for a reaction. But your mind is occupied elsewhere. Your face painted grim and dark with anger. Losing another lead wasn’t something to report back. The Order wouldn’t tolerate such results. Especially on your first mission alone.

“I’m Peter.” Extending his hand towards you.

“I need not know a dead man’s name.” Scoffing his enthusiasm away. “I require answers. Why did that monstrosity target you? Out of all the citizens in this town. You were the one. I can hardly believe that’s a coincidence.”

“It’s a long story. Allow me to-”

“I need answers, not bedtime stories.” You growl, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“Alright, then see for yourself.” Lifting the blood-drenched garments from the wound. You were surprised by the size of the cuts. But even more so by the fact that the three large gashes on his side had stopped bleeding. The tissue was torn open pretty badly. Normally, the blood would gush from these kinds of injuries. But not in this case. Your mind raced to conclusions. Magic.

“What… How is that possible?” Taking a step backward, your hand ready on the stock of your remaining pistol. “Explain yourself.”

“It’s difficult.” Turning his side towards you. “Look…” Your eyes widen in disbelief. In all the years of study. This was unheard of.

“What the…” Your hand reaches for your mouth, drowning any remaining cursing words that wanted to spill from your lips. The torn tissue was slow but gradually growing back. “Enough! What heresy is this!?” Reaching for your shackles on your belt. “Others have been on the pyre for less!.”

But instead of the expected fight, he puts both his arms forward. Lining up his wrists. Ready to be shackled up. A moment of hesitation stops you from continuing. An uneasy feeling washed over you as you see his smile stretching.

“Go for it.” He encourages you.

In a swift motion, you shackle both his wrists up. With the key put away safely, you turn your attention to the room. Motioning him to wait.

Sharpening your senses, focussing on the details. Perhaps you were able to find some clues about the origin of the monster. Its reason for being here. Instead of listening to a lengthy story from that unusual man. And of course, recover your flintlock pistol.

The thoughts of reporting back to the Order without results send a shiver down your spine. Determined to find something. Any lead. There must be a pattern somewhere. You gather some samples here and there. Make a note in your tome. Sketch a few drawings of leftovers from the monstrosity. And gather evidence.

The witchcraft that was at work here was another level. It was a shame the person that put this thing into the world made it disintegrate. Leaving less to investigate. After careful consideration, you accept the fact you can’t recover anything noteworthy. One positive observation, the dark magic seems to have evaporated with it. You mumble a quick prayer of cleansing.

But the sound of metallic crunching, twisting and snapping, disturbed your moment of prayer.

“By the Gods!” You watch in awe as the man had freed itself from your shackles. It’s metal rings torn apart, bent and broken. No sweat on his forehead to be sighted. You look on in fear as he breaks open the shackle on his wrist with little effort.

“We can help each other.” He says calmly while undoing the other. “But in order to, you have to understand I’m your only lead on your quarry.”

“As an ordained servant of our most holy lord, and templar knight of his sovereign temple. I certainly need no-…”

“I can walk away if you want.” He interrupts you, crossing his arms. A smile curving his lips. He knew exactly what his position was.

The daunting realization hits you that no matter the banter, you had nothing to show for. You may have saved his life, but that’s all.

“I saved your life.” Crossing your arms. “So, to settle that debt and convince me, you will share information about the-…”

Meanwhile, you hear a fleet of stamping boots run upwards. Facing the stairs, you spot the embroidered tunics and shields of the local guards. “Sir?” The guardsmen ask. “Are you alright? We heard-…”

“I’m fine.” You waved him away.

The soldiers lined up behind him all look at you, before noticing the gory scene. Revolting in horror. Some run down the stairs, hearing them spill their guts downstairs.

“Make the arrangements to burn down the house. I also require any information on the owner.”

“Aye, will do, Sir.” Bowing down to you. Huffing a few orders to his guardsmen before setting his eyes on the two of you. “And who’s this?” Pointing out the mysterious man standing opposite of you. “He didn’t accompany you when you entered.” His hands reaching for the pommel of his sword.

Peter gave the guard a kind smile. But he was having none of it. The grip tightening on his sword. The tension was noticeably rising. Outweighing your every option. Peter staring at you, awaiting your response.

“He’s with me.” You grumbled annoyingly. “We’re staying at the inn.” That was further from the truth but saved you hassle from any explanation. You nudge Peter to follow you, taking the first few steps down the stairs. But halt before the guard, turning in to face him up close.

“See to it that this place is torched before nightfall.”. You snarled to the guard’s face. Before moving on.

“But… Sir?” You hear the guardsmen trying to protest.

“That’s an order!” You growl and turn onto the street. Leather boots sinking deep into the muddy ground. The rancid smell of horse shit and nearby pigpen hang poignant around the area. Navigating down the narrow streets winding up towards the town square. Lined by timber walls and plastered houses, the faces withdraw hastily. Closing shutters and doors. And the few passers avert their gaze. Its lanes became eerily quiet for the time of day. Only the sounds of nature, chirping birds, and cackling chickens.

“That man was merely doing his job.” Peter stated while following close behind you.

“So do I.” You snap back. Sucking on your teeth as you fought to contain your anger. How you wish you could give him a reprimand.

“Are you always like this?” He asked, picking up with you. From the corner of your eye, you see his kind features waiting for a reaction. But by now, you knew when to speak. And when to keep things to yourself.

In the distance, you spot a building that resembles a tavern. A low stone wall surrounding it, stables to its side, and swaying sign at the porch. Its colors faded and worn, the letters spelling ‘The Grey Goblet’. The image below the Gothic letters depicting two spilling goblets. No peasants nor traders inhabited the outdoor tables. Only a faint light coming through the small fogged up windows showed signs of life.

With hesitation, you open the heavy oak door. The common room opening up to you was spacious. A cluster of tables strewn about with an occasional group of peasants and farmers sharing there drinks and stories. To the left, a long oak topped bar ran along the wall, an older man standing behind it. The men looked up from their hushed and subdued conversations, narrow-eyed studying the newcomers with suspicion. You return their stare with a cold and expressionless look around the room. Taking in each and every individual. They know what kind of person they were dealing with. And so they return to their subdued conversation. While keeping one eye on you.

The barkeep didn’t seem pleased with your arrival. His brow furrowed while he tapped two steins of beer. “I suppose you want a drink.” He groveled.

“Not the warmest welcome I’ve had.”

“Whatcha expectin’? Shaking his head. "Your kind bring nothing but misery with ya…” He said with annoyance in his voice. “Take what ya want and leave.” Eyeing the two of you with suspicion.

“Mind your tongue…" 

"Well, need I remind ya’ of that family you lot send to the pyre four seasons ago. A whole bloody family. Ripped from our midst. Even the little girl…!” The man bursted out in anger. Clearly your kind have made their mark on the region.

“It’s the few for the many.” You turn your relentless gaze to the peasants listening in. Turning their heads to their respective table out of fear. "Heresy ran deep within this region…” Your eyes scan the crowd for any troublemakers. Making sure the fear set in. It occurred before, rebelling against the Order and their Templars. But they know by now, that such actions have dire consequences. “And yet it seems their roots haven’t been properly eradicated.” You turn to the man. “Have they…?” Its face turning pale.

“N-No… I mean Yes… I… Please… I-”

You let the words do the rest. “Now, I need your best room for the night. Serve us a good meal with your best wine, and ready a bath for this one here.” Jabbing a thumb over to Peter. “We’ll talk later.” You nudge to him, while you climb the stairs beside the bar. Intend on picking the room yourself.

“God has forsaken me…” The man muttered to himself. But loud enough for you to overhear. As he ordered the maiden to the kitchen.

“Your contribution to the Church and the Order is duly noted, my good man.” The words drip with sarcasm. “Serve my meal in my room. I do not want to be disturbed. And keep those blasphemous thoughts to yourself. Or I will see to it myself.”

As you inspect the rooms, door by door, you hear the commotion downstairs. Like in most places, you think to yourself. Peter’s voice sounded several times, followed by the rattle of coins. It takes a while before quiet and peace to return.

The room was adequately furnished. A dining table accompanied by a small seating area. The bedroom situated through a set of doors. And a large desk standing in front of the window. You relieve yourself of all equipment and brim hood. The holsters of your guns hanging on the backrest. You seat yourself down in the chair opposite the window. From your view, you could see the sunset. As the flames of the burning house reached high into the sky. You reach for a small prayer book on the inside of your coat. Beautifully lined and adorned with a gold symbol on the crest. You shut your eyes and intertwine your fingers. Resting them atop the booklet. Mumbling the words to yourself. A moment of prayer. A moment of cleansing. A moment of reflection. Asking your god to lead you. Lead you on the right path.

A knock on your door disturbs your prayer. The interruption putting in you in an even blacker mood. “Put in on the table, and leave me be.” You snarled at whoever stood at your door. The door creaks open, slow footsteps walk across the room before they halt. Your nose could tell who it was. That smell. “Peter…”

“You look troubled.” A bit of worry sounded to his words.

“I said we’ll talk later.” You look over your shoulder, seeing him stand in the doorway. “Take a bath, you reek of filth.” Pulling one gun out of the holster. You bring up one canister of bullets hanging from your belt, and the satchel with cleaning equipment. Maintaining your equipment is vital. They were your tools of the trade. A proper tool for protection. And order.

Cleaning the barrel. Weighing the gunpowder. Oiling the mechanism. Polishing the metal. It requires precision and care. And if you spend that time. Took that time. The tools will return that favor to you. All the while, Peter still stands there. Observing you.

“It’s a meal for two.” He says. From your chair, you notice the platter with what seems to be a whole goose or duck. “Will you wait for me?”

“Yes.” You say icy and cold. Pulling the other pistol from your holster. Preparing it for cleaning. “Be quick.”

For once, your nostrils were teased by the lovely odors of a roasted duck or goose. Herbs and spices richly strewn with. Whatever it was, it smelled delightful. This sure was a pleasant relief from all the horrid smells of the past few days. A bowl of cooked vegetables and potatoes to the side. Two cups of soup. A carafe of wine and two gray goblets. A lavish meal for these parts. You pour yourself a one, putting it to your lips. Letting your senses overflow by the rich pallet of flavors of the sunbathed grapes. Carrying you back to memories of a better time.

“Good wine?” Peter asks as he entered the room without noticing, ruining your moment of joy. “I thought I saw a smile there.” He chuckles softly. You open your eyes to a refreshed looking young gentlemen. Dressed in elegant red garments, embroidered with tints of gold.

“How are you feeling?” Taking a seat on the table, Peter sitting opposite you. On the stool beside you, hang your sheathed rapier. The black leather brim hood sat on the table, underneath it, a holster sticking out on your side. For those entering the room, barely to be seen. For you, at the ready in a flash.

“I’m doing good.” He smiled, doing a quick check on his injuries. “Thank you for the bath.”

"It’s the least I can do.” Pouring him his wine. “But why’d you pay the man?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because he must serve a knight of the temple at no cost. So says the law.”

“But I’m not one of yours.”

Unsettling enough, he had a point. You weren’t going to admit he was right. But this man had an answer to your every word. It didn’t feel like arguing, yet the experience of being spoken up against you was unnerving. 

“We usually don’t get these kinds of… lavish meals.”

“I know why.” He snorted. Aware that you were struggling to regain your composure.“But I hope you enjoy it. I certainly do.” Giving you a smile. “You know… I still don’t know your name.” Taking a sip from his wine, leaning back into the chair. “If we’re going to work together, that might be useful.” He joked. You kept your gaze to your plate the whole time. Questions were burning in the back of your mind that required answering. And he was your only option.  

“I’m (Y/N).” You look up, meeting his gaze. A look of kindness and grace met yours of irritation and disdain. Receiving a simple smile in return.

You don’t fancy these odds. Everything was depended on him. Even if he bluffed, even if he was lying. There was no other way. You sought to get an answer out of this man. One way or another. Not ruling out a confession of the sorts. If it wasn’t for those healing powers, then you would twist the rules to your liking. You weren’t going to end up empty-handed. Most certainly not.

“Well… nice to meet you (Y/N).” He smiled kindly, bringing you back from your scheming thoughts. “That house you ordered to burn down, could have been mine.”

“It wasn’t.” With the napkin, you wipe away the residue from your meal. Meeting his gaze again. “The lock was forced. That monster would have gone straight through the door. You were trying to sneak in. To what purpose might I ask?”

“Good eye.” He compliments you with a broad smile. Moving to the edge of his seat. “You know, I’m in the same boat as you are.”

“Just answer the question.” You snarl, gritting your teeth out of frustration. “You have a lot to answer for. And as long as you’re treading through these lands, you’re falling under my scrutiny and jurisdiction.”

“You’re angry with yourself, aren’t you?" 

The blood started boiling deep inside you. This man was driving you insane. Jaw clenched tightly and nostrils flaring. You sat there letting him roll over you. Something was holding you back. In any situation, you would have scolded the man with every possible vocabulary in the book.

"I can see it in you. You got that fury in your eyes.” He continues. “You don’t want to admit it. But deep down, you know, I’m your only shot at success. Am I right?”

In what position did he think he was in to speak up to you in such a manner?

“You’re not the one in control. That’s it! That infuriates you. You’re powerless. Something you’ve never experienced until now.”

The words he spoke came closer to the truth you ever wanted to admit. Your hands shudder from rage. That hot burning anger seeking to harm. Insulting a servant of the Order like this. This was unheard of. Your hand clamps around the wine glass, shaking as you bring it to your lips. Gulping it all down.

“This is going to be fun. (Y/N).” He smiled happily, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he continues eating. A glint of excitement glared in his eyes as he glanced up at you. Steam was literally fuming from your ears.

You were beyond anger of these acquisitions. Yet something wholesome about him kept you from bursting out in rage. As you looked at him, there was something about him that you couldn’t get angry about. Soothing almost. Calming.

[emphoenixcat]

An Unconventional Fam (Pt. 10)

Part 9

Ao3

Buy me a kofi<3

A/N: This chapter takes place after chapter 7 for V and Dax, and chapter 9 for Roman and Remy. Enjoy! 

Summary: V and Dax make their way to the only place where they truly feel safe, a secret hideout in the forest. They have a surprising encounter with a particular werewolf.

Warnings: implied past child abuse (not detailed), slight blood mention, traps, demons, possession, food mention, lightning/thunder, wolves.

The demon and his human, or perhaps the human and his demon, were finally calming down after they were almost caught stealing from a cookie jar earlier that morning.

It was now mid-afternoon and they had managed to get a free bus ride at Dax’s insistence. 

V grumbled, “We shouldn’t be out in public like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t possibly walk all the way to the forest and make it there by nightfall. You said you wanted to get to your secret stash and listen to some music to calm down a bit, that is precisely what we’re doing.”

“We should’ve just headed back to our current hideout. This is too much traveling,” V anxiously peered around the bus at the strangers surrounding them.

The demon sighed, “You drew a picture of the demon witch on the walls. It seemed like bad luck to stay. Besides, we would be like sitting ducks if we remained there.”

He decided not to argue with the demon’s judgement, even if it had been primarily motivated by a craving for chocolate, it had solid rationale behind it.

They passed many busy stores and restaurants, now open and very much alive with customers. The leaf strewn sidewalks were teeming with people in a hurry to be somewhere. Dax and V stared longingly out the bus window, watching fragments of another life pass them by. Families walked together outside, children splashing in puddles and jumping in piles of fiery-hued leaves. V wanted to turn away from them and, instead, think like a brave and well-put-together adult, but he couldn’t. He was nothing more than a now twelve-year-old boy, not even close to fully grown. Dax, on the otherhand, was bewildered by such dreadfully heartwarming scenes; they simply didn’t understand such things. They were curious about what constituted as normal in human families, neither of them ever having much experience with such a concept.

It must have been hours before they were outside of town, but they were too busy daydreaming to be worried about the passing of time. The bus’s final stop was at an old gas station that was about an hour’s walk away from their special hiding place. V made sure to sit next to a large group of people despite his nagging uneasiness. They needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible after all.

As soon as the bus came to a stop at its final destination, they made their way to the doors, following closely behind the few people that were left.

“Hey, V. I’m feeling snackish. Do you feel like going for them chocolate chip cookies?”

Dax could feel V rolling his eyes at him, “Considering you ate one before I was awake and that I didn’t get to fully enjoy it the first time….yes.”

The demon sheepishly smiled, “I had to taste test them first to make sure they were suitable for the birthday boy.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, chewing on the delectable chocolate chip cookies and enjoying the crisp autumn air. They were breathing easier now that they were far away from prying eyes and now that the threat of the demon witch was temporarily pushed out of their minds. Something about the flavorful treats made V optimistic in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time, he vaguely wondered if they were getting a sugar high from said sweets. His heart sank slightly at the thought of never being able to go back to the diner for more cookies, not after being seen.

Pushing the image of the concerned man from earlier out of their minds, they continued forward through the undergrowth of the forest. It had been a month or two since they had come back to their little wooded hideaway; they tried not to go back and forth too often because it was easier to remain in town where they could go to various stores for the everyday essentials.

Getting to the hideout from here was not a problem, they had made sure of it by creating a magical path that only they could see. 

When Dax had agreed to help V run away from the demon witch, Stella, they had managed to snag a few potions and elixirs on their way out. Even though V struggled with the writing on the bottles, most of them were accompanied by symbols that he had been around all his life so he had some idea what they were used for. Mendacius, on the other hand, was more certain of the properties of each bottle since he was rather fluent in reading Latin and old runes. Together, they used a bright blue potion labelled Ignis Fatuus, which Dax knew would light a path leading to their desired destination. Only those who had unbottled the potion under a full moon and watched each drop of liquid seep into the earth were able to see Ignis Fatuus (which the demon had informed V was better known as Will-o’-the-wisp, a type of faerie magic that could only be used in this way when captured).

The shade of the trees provided enough low light to better see the magic bright blue flames that lined the forest floor. It wasn’t long before they came upon a tree with a hidden hollowed out inside. They pressed down on a large tree knot as if it were a button, a stairway within the trunk revealing itself step by step. 

Cautiously looking over his shoulder, V ascended the stairway until they were safely inside their secret treehouse.

The house was, of course, only the size of a small room, but inside it contained all of V and Dax’s most treasured belongings. Among art and photographs, a string of purple and yellow star-shaped fairy lights were strung along the wall, lighting up now that they were fully inside the room. Strewn about the walls were many of V’s paintings and sketches; he had tried to hang only those that reminded him of something good and comforting. Most of them were a likeness of the forest, some were depictions of Dax, and there were a few that V had let Dax help him draw….those ones were usually pictures of chocolate bars and cookies. V shook his head at the thought and smirked, what a weirdo. 

“Hey,” Dax protested, “I heard that.”

V just grinned and carried on admiring the contents of their hideaway treehouse. Of course the demon had other interests besides chocolate, such interests were depicted in photographs they had taken of shops and nature and unaware passersby. Mendacius had taken a strong liking to photography because of the way he could capture special moments on earth. He often hoped that the photos would withstand the tests of time so that he could always remember the best of everything long after this life and the next.

Among little dark wooden shelves, were stacks upon stacks of CDs, batteries, and music boxes of all kinds. Right beside the dark oakwood shelving, there rested a sturdy wooden trunk with silver runic symbols etched all along the sides; this was where all the potions were safely kept under lock and key. Not in any need of magical concoctions at this point in time, they glanced at the neatly-made and soft-looking bed that sat in the lefthand corner of the room, its soft purple blankets and an ebony plush bunny by the name of Mrs. Fluffybottom were a welcome sight for sore eyes. 

Without a second thought, they jumped on the mattress, wrapping the soft blanket around themselves and letting out a sigh of relief. Nothing felt safer than their treehouse retreat. For about the millionth time, V and Dax thanked whatever forces were in their favor for the Arbor Domus potion or, put more simply, the Grow a Home potion. All they had needed was a drop of the green liquid and an oak tree seed. After that, everything else was provided by Mendacius and his cunning thievery, something that V wasn’t exactly proud of.

Pushing those thoughts from his mind, V chanced a glance out of a small circular window near the bed, noticing the rays of sunlight fading through the trees. His birthday would be over soon enough, all they had to do was lay low here and let the rest of the day pass.

“Sleep now, V. You didn’t get enough rest earlier,” Dax urged him to lay back down and get comfortable.

V chewed at his nails, “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”

“Nobody can find us here. And I’m not moving us anywhere, I promise,” Dax reassured him. “We’re safe.”

Nodding slightly, V relented and let their head softly hit the pillow as he tucked themselves snuggly within the blanket covers. After grabbing the plush bunny for extra security, it only took a moment for the normally anxious boy to feel safe enough to snooze.

Dax meant to stay awake to watch over V, but the demon felt his own spirit getting drowsy. In what seemed like no time at all, both souls were comfortably curled up and sleeping soundly, the soft glow of fairy lights providing them with dreams unburdened by darkness or evil witches of any kind.

They were abruptly awoken by the sound of a wild animal deeply howling. V bolted up so quick that they nearly got whiplash.

Crankily, Dax rubbed at their eyes, “Calm down, V. It’s probably just the wind.”

“That is most definitely not the wind. That was a wolf.”

The demon sighed, “So what? The creature can’t get us from here, this place is cloaked by magic.”

“Oh,” V clutched their rabbit plushie a little closer to himself, comforted by its presence. “I suppose you’re right. It just startled me is all; it sounds awfully close.”

They were silent for a moment, straining their ears to listen. There was the unmistakable pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the roof. Minutes passed before they heard the howl again, this time it was much closer. 

Trying not to feel nervous, they peered out the window and into the forest down below. The eerie glow of the full moon was shadowed by a great deal of cloud cover, yet it cast just enough light for them to see the russet-hued wolf that stood at the base of their tree. It was simply staring into the sky, seemingly entranced. It let loose another hauntingly drawn-out howl.

Not wanting to alert the wolf to their presence, even if they were hidden by magic, V opted for speaking to Dax telepathically rather than out loud. “What kind of wolf is that? It’s kinda orange, almost tri-colored like a timber wolf.”

“That’s not a normal wolf. It’s much too big and definitely not native to these parts.”

“A werewolf?” V’s eyes widened, “Is it--? No, it can’t be.”

 Dax only nodded, he could see the glow of a human-like aura intertwined with that of a wolf-like one. The demon sent the image over to V’s mind as they watched the wolf below them dash away into the darkness and out of sight.

“Well, he’s gone now. Not much to worry abo--”

A piercing cry echoed across the expanse of trees followed by a series of yelps and whimpers.

V and Dax stood stock still in stunned silence, they were both wondering what in the world had just happened to elicit such a spine-chilling sound from their wolfy acquaintance. The shrill whimpering continued and V finally found the will to speak, “M--maybe we should go see what’s wrong. I mean, it sounds like he’s hurt.”

“Oh really now, the big bad wolf should be able to take care of himself,” Dax rolled their eyes, “Besides, I thought that you wanted to stay in tonight and avoid any and all trouble.”

A long and heart-wrenching whine could be heard throughout their area of the woods.

“C’mon. You know we can’t just stay here and do nothing while he’s hurting out there.”

Dax threw their arms up in the air in exasperation, “Fine, we’ll go out and help! But only because I can’t stand his incessant whining. Don’t blame me when your fear of dogs is worsened because wolfy over there decides that we’d make a good chew toy.”

Well aware that they were planning on helping an unpredictable wild animal, which was stronger and bigger due to its magical qualities, they decided they should equip themselves with a little magic of their own.

V took off the collar that his bunny, Mrs Fluffybottom, wore around its neck. Hooked onto the neckband, like a bell, was a silver and black key. 

Determined, V took the key over to the chest and fit it into the heavy padlock. Something clicked and they carefully lifted the heavy lid until it rested against the wall. Dax and V stared at the various vials of liquid enchantments set before them. The demon retrieved a tiny bottle of what looked almost blood-like in color. As he touched the glass, ancient runes briefly revealed themselves and Dax nodded with certainty. 

“This is the one we need,” their eyes skimmed the rest of the pile, “Unfortunately, there are not any cloaking potions in here. Looks like we’re on our own.”

V shrugged their shoulders, “We usually are.”

Before they could lose that sliver of bravery pulsing inside of them, they pocketed the healing potion and shut the chest, locking it up once more and returning the key back to its rightful place. Smiling softly, V patted the dark bunny’s head and thanked it for guarding the key. Mrs. Fluffybottom could only stare back at them with mismatched purple button eyes of course, but that didn’t matter much to V. 

V pulled their hood up over their ears, mindful of the wind and drizzle that was going on outside. Then they hurried down the staircase and out the entrance of the hollowed out tree, the steps vanishing from sight behind them. 

Once outside, they made sure to creep silently, moving deftly through twigs, crunchy leaves, and undergrowth. The rainfall made it a lot simpler to walk undetected towards the high-pitched yowling, which seemed to be getting even louder. Dax and V rounded a tree and abruptly stopped, tiptoeing backwards in order to remain out of sight.

Lying on the forest floor in a small pool of blood was the wolf, his hind leg caught in the heavy metallic jaws of a beartrap. 

“Great, what’s the plan now? We can’t heal him without freeing him first.”

V eyed the wolf warily, “I dunno, I was hoping it was a simple injury. Why does it always have to be beartraps?”

“I guess werewolves don’t have many other weaknesses.”

“Well,” V bit his lip in thought, “if we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna need your help as much as possible.”

“We could wait until he turns human again, couldn’t we?” Dax suggested.

“No, he’s bleeding out. It’s too long of a wait until sunrise….”

Without a second thought, they stepped out from behind the tree.

The wolf’s head turned and the whimpering turned into low guttural growls as the creature finally realized he was no longer alone.

V hesitated, slowly edging closer to the wolf. He extended a hand toward the creature in what he hoped was a placating gesture.

“H--hey, buddy. Remember us? I know we got off to a bad start, but we returned the book and even left a note. We’re cool, right? You wouldn't dream of tackling us a second time, right?” V lightly chuckled, his voice shaky and whispery.

The tawny wolf tilted his head in confusion and the growls softened for a moment, however, his ears remained as alert as ever. He fixed his eyes on the other and V stilled in their tracks, mesmerized as the wolf’s irises flashed from gold to brown for a fleeting moment; it had happened so fast that they weren’t even sure they had seen it correctly.

Because it was what seemed like the logical response at the time, they let their eyes flash a deep ebony before letting the color settle back into V’s usual hazel.

The wolf cautiously bowed his head to them, his tail lowered.

They took this as a sign that it was okay to approach. Dax and V attentively knelt down next to the silver trap, the light of the moon glinting off of it ever so slightly. V let the demon take control as they worked to pull the metallic jaws apart, careful not to touch the sharp teeth of the contraption. Sweat was beginning to form on their brow as they pried at the trap for several long minutes, the metal was slick from the rain and their hands kept slipping. Grunting from the extended exertion, the demon used as much strength as he could muster and V helped as much as he possibly could. The beartrap finally began to budge ever so slightly. With what sounded a lot like a battle cry, the hinges were creaked back just enough for the werewolf to free his paw. As soon as they noticed he was free, they let go of the trap and it snapped shut, just narrowly missing their fingers as they fell backward onto the damp forest floor.

Sighing with relief, they tiredly retrieved the healing elixir from their pocket and managed a faint smile at the wolf next to them. They uncorked the bottle and let the tiniest drop of red liquid fall upon the creature’s injured paw. Within seconds, the potion started to work its magic repairing the wound until the paw looked as good as new. No scars remained.

The wolf stared at his paw and twirled around in circles as if disbelieving, then he peered up at them, his irises as golden as ever.

V felt a shiver run up his spine and he turned to look over his right shoulder. Mendacius was taking form beside him. It appeared to be the devil’s hour once again.

There was a sudden flash in the sky and a resounding clap of thunder. The werewolf snarled.

They were still on the ground and out of breath. Both of them knew that if they were to run, the creature would catch up.

The wolf crept forward, sniffing the air.

“M--maybe if we don’t make any sudden movements, he won’t attack?” Dax said hopefully, he was suddenly very aware that his physical form was now solidified enough to be maimed.

V managed to nod once, his wide eyes still glued to the threat before them.

Nose still twitching, the werewolf backed away from them a few steps. Then the creature lunged, knocking them both backward with his huge paws.

V’s eyes were shut tightly, his breathing erratic and strained. He was absolutely certain that this was the end, but then he felt something wet and slobbery tickle his nose and his eyelids fluttered open only to be greeted by the view of the dog's tongue darting out to lick his cheek. The wolf turned to Dax to do the same.

“Ugh, gross! This is the last time I help a werewolf!” the demon complained.

They were licked excitedly by the wolf about three or four more times before he happily bounded away further into the woods, his tail wagging behind him. The duo remained on the now muddy ground, they were absolutely rain-soaked, but the utter exhaustion from all that they had gone through kept them rooted to the spot for a little while longer. It was quite a lot to process.

UF Taglist: @virgilanxiety @monikastec @nyxwordsmith @prplzorua @thestoryofme13 @llamaly @dark-strange-mess @socialfailure @justanotherpurplebutterfly @internallyexplodingrainbows @devoted-to-boyking-samshine @groverpal @potatogirl309 @sockopath @ocotopushugs @callboxkat @violetmcl @ravenclawunicorn1 @isaysolanumlycopersicum @the-straight-as-a-circle-girl @that-one-invisible-chick @nye275 @confinesofpersonalknowledge @jojosenpai @audricusthebold @noodlesforlife13 @spazzz32 @axyzel @6tick6tock6 @ijustreallylovesanderssides @virgilisaneternalmood @jade-dragon226-fan @britbrodcast @crankthatyee @awesomelissawho @couch-potato-1890 @temmiecupcake @lucifer-in-my-head @tahiti-island-dream @crownswriter123 @harry-niclach @kikiofthevast @amazinglissawho @vibe-with-vinnie @notspookymonth  @a-pastel-pan @captain-otis-dante @enby-in-fandom @magridalthewitch @monixmoony 

General Taglist: @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms @anxious-but-whatever @tellmehowtoexist @maizieandbirds @theresneverenoughfandoms @grumpymoonbird @lizaelsparrow

A/N: How cool would it have been if I had actually gotten this werewolf chapter out on not only a full moon, but the blue moon that we had on Halloween night? That would’ve been spectacular. *sighs*

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 22

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir was exhausted, but cautiously optimistic. 

The city was near-silent beneath him as he cut a path towards the Eiffel Tower, as though every Parisian were holding their breath. The clock on his baton told him he had just under half an hour to make it there, but he wasn’t worried. Even if he was a few minutes late, Felix and Chloe wouldn’t be facing Hawkmoth alone.

He glanced behind him, searching the shadows, but they remained empty. Maybe, he thought, she just wasn’t coming.

Marinette’s balcony had been his final stop that night. The light had been on, but the room had been empty. He’d been disappointed, but hope had urged him to leave the mouse Miraculous and the pink rose on her desk. It wasn’t half the apology he’d wanted to give her, but it would have to do until he had an opportunity to talk with her. He hoped it would be enough for the time being.

But for now, he needed to focus. He hadn’t let himself dwell on the situation beyond what he’d told the others because it was too overwhelming, and none of it was guaranteed, but… if it went right, if they were successful, then everything would change. The world would come a little bit back into balance.

Adrenaline burst through Chat Noir’s system as the Eiffel Tower came into view. Though devoid of any activity, very light on it was lit, as though to give them their best advantage. 

He stopped short of the Tower itself, angling instead for the Trocadero Gardens across the Seine. He landed silently on the steps where Felix had instructed they meet, and was hardly surprised when his cousin grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him into a deep shadow.

“Where have you been?” Felix demanded, releasing him with a little shove. 

“I’ve been running recruitment,” Chat Noir said with a grin. “And speaking of, I’m going to need Trixx.”

“Trixx?” Felix unconsciously wrapped a hand around the pendent at his throat. “Adrien, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, but you can’t seriously mean - ”

“Nothing like that,” Chat Noir cut his cousin off. “He just belongs with someone else - but I’m not leaving you defenceless by any means.” Chat Noir reached into the bag at his hip, pulling out the Miraculous from the box. 

Felix hesitated, staring at the little box in Chat Noir’s palm.

“You’re really giving me one?” he asked. Despite everything, Chat Noir realized his cousin really expected to, at the very least, punish him for his previous stunt.

“I really am,” Chat Noir said. “You did good here, Felix. No one’s perfect; you deserve the same chance Chloé got. Will you take it?”

For once, Felix actually smiled. “Trixx, let’s rest.”

The kwami spiralled out of the necklace, coming to rest in Felix’s palm. He seized on the snap peas Felix had produced and scarfed them down. He continued to eat even as Felix removed the necklace and picked up the new box.

“Hey, Trixx,” Chat Noir said, accepting the necklace. “Ready to play with an old friend?”

“You found her then?” Trixx asked, drifting towards his Miraculous.

Chat Noir hid a wince. “Not yet. It’s still work in progress. Hopefully after tonight it’ll be safe enough to try.”

They both winced at the burst of yellow light as Felix opened the lid of the new box.

“Greetings, my King!” Pollen rose gracefully out of their box, executing a bow as they went. “I’m Pollen of the Bee Miraculous; I grant the power of subjugation. To activate the Miraculous, simply say ‘Buzz on’.”

“This is going to raise a lot of questions,” Felix muttered as he slid the comb into his hair, “But…thank you.”

“You’ve earned it,” Chat Noir said simply. “Remember the time limit.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “How could I forget? Alright, get going. Remember to wait for the signal.”

“Got it,” Chat Noir said. “Rena Rouge will take care of your illusion. See you out there.”

Chat Noir left, heading for the second meeting spot he’d arranged that night as a yellow flash briefly lit the shadows of the Trocadero. 

“Carapace?”

A voice drifted from the shadows. “Over her, du - Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir could make out a dozen forms among the dark struts of the Eiffel Tower, all talking quietly. The multitude of colours were muted in the night, but what they were was unmistakable.

“Alya?” he asked, stopping beside his friend.

“Right here,” she said, stepping up beside Carapace.

Chat Noir held out the box. “Ready?”

“So ready,” she said quietly. He’d never seen her quiet before, but he didn’t think he was imagining the glistening of her eyes as she took the Miraculous. “I never thought I’d ever get to do this again.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Chat Noir warned. “But tonight we need all hands on deck.”

“I understand,” Alya said quickly. “I just…I didn’t know last time would be the last time. Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else with me,” Chat Noir said. He meant it, too. His Lady had chosen these people - well, most of them. They all loved her almost as much as he did. Even though she wasn’t there, it was almost like having her unbreakable spirit with them. 

“I see the gang’s all here,” Red said, dropping in beside him.

“Almost,” Chat Noir admitted. He couldn’t help a glance over his shoulder, as though she might still show up. 

“It’s interesting,” Red mused, glancing over their team mates. “Almost the entirety of Mme. Bustier’s class from Francois Dupont High School - with two notable exceptions.”

Chat Noir stiffened. No. No way. “Marinette might show up yet,” he said as his heart began to pound.

“She’s not who I’m interested in,” Red said, leaning in. “It’s you - Adrien.”

Chat Noir stifled a frustrated sigh. “This is unbelievable.”

Red actually scoffed. “It’s hardly rocket science. You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“You of all people know you can’t give a Miraculous away to just any one,” he said. “They’re too dangerous.”

Her wince was barely noticeably. “You just better hope no one else notices the pattern, Adrichat,” she whispered. 

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, deciding it was best to move on to other topics.

“Yeah,” Red said after a moment. She turned to look out over the city, crossing her arms against an invisible chill she never could have felt through the suit. “I am, but…it doesn’t feel right to do this without her.”

A hint of pain and regret twisted through Chat Noir’s gut, but he couldn’t let it hurt him, not here, not now. “I know,” he agreed. “But it’s the only way to get her back.”

“You know how to restore her memory then?” she asked. She glanced back at him but he avoided her gaze.

“I have a few theories,” Chat Noir said, but he didn’t elaborate. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

“I’ll help you, you know,” Red said. “I… everyone knows how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug. I know you must be missing her. Besides,” she grinned, “I’ve gotta get rid of this kwami; she won’t eat anything but the best pastries in Paris. And I thought I was fussy.”

Beneath them, one of the lamps surrounding the plaza abruptly flickered out. Chat Noir felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stiffen.

“It’s time.”

Red nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Chat Noir saluted her and made his way to the darkest shadow in the structure where Rena Rouge was waiting for him. It deepened as another lamp went out. He felt more than he saw her shudder as he landed.

“I’ve dreamed of punching Hawkmoth right in the face,” she whispered, “But this…”

“It feels like a trap,” Chat Noir admitted. 

“Yeah.”

“It may be.” He stifled his frustration. “We have no way of knowing. Improvisation’s always been my stronger suit.” Even so, he’d done all he could to prepare.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for what he saw seconds later in the plaza.

It was the most stunningly beautiful, horrific akuma he’d ever seen in his life. Worse, he knew her.

“…Marinette?”

He recognized the gown, and in a terrible blinding flash, he realized it hadn’t been on the mannequin when he’d dropped by her place. Now he knew why. 

It wasn’t the project she’d been building over the past past couple of weeks; instead of black, the fabric had turned a brilliant, violent red. Black edging lined the silhouette. The hem, which had once flared out into a dramatic train, was in ashy tatters. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders, longer and darker than he’d ever seen it before. The top half had been pulled back into a bun, the only ornamentation a hair stick decorated in midnight black flowers. Her skin was so pale she looked like a spectre. Her eyes had gone completely black.

All Chat noir could do was stare. “How…did this…how…”

“Oh, Marinette.”

He whipped to Rena Rouge. She, too, was staring at the figure in the plaza, sadness etched in her features.

“I tried to warn her,” she said. “Anyone can be akumatized.”

Nothing made sense. He couldn’t make it make sense. Rena Rouge wasn’t <em>wrong</em>, but Marinette was the strongest person he knew. Sure, she could get upset like anyone, but she always seemed to be able to quickly get her emotions under control.

“Warn her?” he managed. His gaze had wandered back to the akuma. He couldn’t look away. It was like seeing a ghost. “Why did she need warning?”

“I don’t really know,” Rena Rouge said as another light flickered out. “A few months ago we were talking on the phone. She was really freaked out. She said there were these…gaps? She couldn’t remember anything about Hawkmoth, or you and Ladybug. It was so weird, but after we talked about it, she seemed to forget that she forgot. She never brought it up again. Maybe I should have.”

Chat Noir couldn’t breathe. As he stared at the girl in the plaza, a thousand little puzzle pieces fell into place.

<em> ‘You love that girl’.</em>

Plagg’s words were like a bullet to the chest. His kwami had tried to tell him in the only way he could. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it.

<em> ‘I think something’s wrong…I’m having trouble…’</em> Remembering.

That was what she was going to tell him all those months ago. It had always been her, right in front of him this whole time. The reason she’d been so sure of her plan. His Lady…Marinette…the reason he’d been so confused about his feelings for both of them was because…

“Marinette is Ladybug.”

Beside him, Rena Rouge stiffened, and then sighed a little laugh. “Of course. Of course she is. Do I even want to ask how we ended up here?”

“No,” Chat Noir whispered through cold lips. “No, you really don’t.”

“But…then this means you’re going to have to fight her.”

“No,” Chat Noir said as fury finally ignited, burning away everything else. “I’m going to have to save her.” Adrenaline made his eyes fairly glow. “And then I’m going to make Hawkmoth pay for what he’s done to her.” 

For everything they’d sacrificed. For every sleepless night and broken heart and stolen kiss. For everything they might never get back. 

Felix was right; Hawkmoth had never played by the rules. This time, he’d crossed a line.

And Chat Noir was ready to get his claws dirty. 

[inkandpen22]

Shared Minds and Shared Souls (5/?)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, depression, trauma, PTSD, some fluff 

Word Count: 2.3k  

Part Summary: After the hospital with Glory, Y/N falls into despair, unsure of whether or not the world around is real or Glory’s doing. Days go by and Spike grows frustrated as the Scooby Gang is lost on how to fix Y/N. So, he takes matters into his hands, doing everything in his power to bring her. 

Masterlist

"Bloody fix her!" I hear Spike yell at the others in the kitchen.  

I lay on the couch in the allusion version of the Summers's living room. All I can do is wait. Wait for the most-evil-big-bad to show up and take me away. I wait for this vision to end. Glory is messing with my head. I just know it. I'm still in her memories or worse, she dragged me down to Hell with her.  

"We can't, not yet at least," the imaginary Willow explains, sounding defeated.  

"We don't know the right spell, but we're not going to stop until we find it!" Tara assures, her tone carries a bit of hope in it. 

"What exactly did Y/N see when she entered Glory's mind?" Giles questions. "Perhaps that will help us figure out a solution."  

"Did she tell you anything, Spike?" The pretend Buffy inquires, her voice optimistic.   

"No!" The vampire shouts again. "You saw her! She won't even look at me, at any of us, and you think she told me everything?!"  

"Spike, we're just trying to help..." Willow mumbles, sounding mousey.   

“Yeah, since when do you care about Y/N or anyone of us for that matter?” Xander insults. 

“I don’t… ” Spike grumbles defensively. Then, he releases a deep sigh of frustration, “okay, look! The sooner Y/N is better, the sooner she can help with destroying Glory. Let’s pick up the pace here!” 

There's a prolonged pause and the allusion of Dawnie appears entering the room from the kitchen. She approaches me cautiously. Starring blankly ahead at the distant wall, the allusion of Dawn kneels beside me on the floor.

 "Hi Y/N," she mumbles, fiddling with the edge of her shirt nervously. "Do... Do you need anything? A glass of water? Some food? I... I can make anything you like!" She tells me with forced enthusiasm. "Oh, here!" She rises from her spot swiftly and reaches over me. 

Startled, I scream and fly up from my laid position. She's going to hurt me! She's a demon! She's going to kill me! She's going to drag me back to that place! All of the fire, the screaming, the pain! The others comes running into the room, the vision of Spike leading them.  

"I didn't mean to!" The fake Dawn urgently tells me, running to safety by Buffy. "I was just going to give her blanket!"  

The allusion of Buffy comforts her, "I know, you're okay! It's not you're fault. Y/N's just really fragile at the moment. We can't touch her or get too close, otherwise we'll scare her."   

Panicked, I shuffle my sight between all of them, waiting for one of them to charge at me. I curl up, bringing my legs close to my chest on the couch. Shaking, I can't find the words to speak. I'm afraid if I do they're retaliate and I'll be send back to the fiery place.   The figure disguised as Spike approaches me steadily, his hands up as a sign of peace. I don't believe it, not for a second. He's trying to trick me!   

He shushes softly, "it's okay Y/N. I'm not going to hurt you." 

I cower away, scooting to the farthest side of the couch from him. 

"You can also see people's energy. You can also see into people's minds, right?” He calmly moves closer until he's sat on the coffee table. “I want you to look into mine,” he instructs boldly, holding out his hand to me. 

I shake my head rapidly in a panic. No, I can’t do it again, not after what happened! Beside, my magic doesn't work in Hell. No, I saw it before. When the roots were attacking me, nothing worked. He's testing me. He wants an excuse to damn me to Hell. 

"I’ll focus only on the good memories! You told me that I can control what you see, right? If I remember that it’s all in my head and try hard enough! Let me prove to you that I’m really me and I’m not a threat to you!" The spirit disguised as Spike reasons. "Come on, use your powers, Love. Show yourself that I won't hurt you," he says in almost a plea. 

I hesitate, afraid of the repercussion if I do as he asks. He could show me more traumatizing images. I want to believe he's the real, do more than anything! If it were really him, it would mean I'm safe and truly out of Glory's nightmare. 

Buffy quietly steps forward to protest the idea. “Spike, I don’t think-”

“Just let her try for Christ’s sake!” He snaps, standing up to face everyone. Clearly, he’s hit his boiling point with all the bickering. “You all bloody act like she’s a goddamn porcelain baby and you’re afraid of dropping her. She’s the most powerful whatever-the-hell she is I’ve seen in my hundred and forty-eight years on this planet! Now, shut up!” He finishes, sitting back down on the table with a dramatic huff. 

Calmly, he looks at me and requests again, “try it, Pet. I know you can do it,” he encourages softly. 

Slowly, I meet him gaze. It’s the first time since the hospital I’ve look at anyone in the eye. I’ve been afraid that if I look, I’ll see the red eyes that frighten me more than I can bare to say. Instead, I’m meet with the familiar emeralds. They’re fake. They must be fake. They’re a part of the allusion. 

“Please…” Spike adds almost inaudibly. He eyes peer at me, filled with what appears to be despair. Reaching out his hand again, he waits for me to take it. 

I don’t feel threatening energy radiating from him, at least not directly. Then again, I don’t know how well the demons mask their intentions. My chest rises and plummets as my nerves and mind warn me not to do it. Yet, my gut is telling me to at least try. My heart is telling me to give him, the allusion, a chance.

Steadily I ease my shaky hand out to interlock with his own. Our hands meet and our fingers glides between each other. Gently, Spike rubs his thumb over my hand, doing his best to ease the shaking by squeezing it. He stares into my eyes and gives me a sharp nod of confidence. His features, however, express uncertainty and worry. I feel a surge of energy, the warning before the storm. I blink rapidly as the sensation of falling consumes me. Then, my vision goes black… 

I’m sat in my mother’s old parlor on the rug as I read her my newest poem. She rests on the loveseat behind me, petting my head gently. I worry for her. Her health hasn’t been ideal in recent weeks.  I read to her, knowing how much it makes her feel better. All I do when I can find a free moment, usually when she’s asleep during the daylight hours, is write more poetry in hopes that it heals her ailments. 

“William, my love,” she groans, moving to sit up. She holds out her hand and swiftly I assist her. She mutters a ‘thank you,’ expressing a weak smile. 

I peer up at my mother admiringly. I feel the fierce duty to protect her. She’s my whole world, I love no one more than her. 

She caress my cheek, “you, my William, are my angel on this Earth. All I want, as my dying wish, is for you to be happy and settled.” 

“I am happy, Mother,” I tell her, truly content. “There’s no other woman I need in my life than you.” 

She grins, releasing a soft giggle. Oh how I long to hear her laugh. It reminds me of when she was healthy and thriving. Gently, she guides me to rest my head in her laps as I did when I was a child. Steadily, she brushes her fingers through my hair comfortingly. “Early one morning…” She starts to sing her lullaby to me. It’s our song. She’s been singing it to me since infancy. It’s brings me unparalleled peace. I adore her voice. I adore her. There’s no one else in the world I need but her. 

With a jolt, like bringing dragged out to see by a strong wave, I’m back in the Summers’s living room. I gasp for air as I settle back into my body, my senses returning to me. The energy surge slowly leaving my bloodstream. Everyone’s eyes are on me, waiting for my words or at least a reaction in someway. 

Spike looks at me eagerly, a faint bit of hope in his eyes.  “Did it work?” 

Silently, I slowly move off the couch, standing to my feet. Spike leaps up from his position, causing me to jump a little. He frowns, disappointment returning to his face. Wrapping my arms around my body safely, I turn and walk out of the room. As I head up the stairs, discussion erupts in the living room. 

“What does this mean?” Xander questions urgently. 

“Well, did it work?” Anya adds. 

“Clearly it fucking didn’t!” Spike barks, followed by a thud and the sound of the coffee table dragging across the hardwood floor with a screech. 

“Spike!” Buffy shouts, “that’s not going to help Y/N!” 

“Screw this,” he curses, storming around downstairs. “I’m out of here! You lot aren’t going to do anything to help her! I’m going to find a way myself!” I hear the front door slam shut moments after. 

_______________________

Days later and I continue to lay in my bed as I have since fake Spike’s attempted to fix me. Alone and silently, I wait for the black smoke-like figures to come haunt me. Sleep is nonexistent because every time I try all I see are those red eyes starring back at me. They wish to drain me cold and consume my soul. The allusions of Buffy, Joyce, and Dawn take turns checking on me. Joyce worries and Buffy tries to get me to eat. Dawnie begs for me to return to normal. What is normal? I can’t remember what I was like before. There’s nothing waiting for me but the Hell I saw. I’m not okay. I’m slipping into an abyss of darkness. 

As night falls, the door to my room creaks open behind me, revealing a strip of light from the hall. Distant voices from downstairs linger in and I see someone cross in front of the light as they enter the room. I remain emotionless on my bed, facing the opposite wall. As a figure appears in my peripheral vision, I focus ahead blankly. 

“Hello there, Love,” Spike whispers, squatting at my bedside. 

I don’t react to his presence physically. Inside, I’m reaching out to him. I’m in a prison made up by my own mind. 

Spike hasn’t seen me since the day after the hospital. When I left the living room and he stormed out, he never came back to be exact. Fake Buffy told me in passing while she was bringing me food that he went away for a few days. I didn’t ask, she just told me. She went by his crypt after he hadn’t come around, he wasn’t there. He left a note saying he’d be back. 

“I won’t touch you, promise! Yo don’t have to worry about that,” he assures with a frown. “They say you haven’t eaten since…” he shakes his head, refusing to speak of that faithful day. “You need to eat Y/N. You look like you haven’t slept in days.” 

He worries, they all worry. What will worrying get them? Why don’t they just put me out of my misery? When will this vision end?! 

“Y/N!” He whispers my name harshly, not to alert the others downstairs. “Come on, Love, I know you’re in there somewhere! I don’t know exactly what Glory did to you or what you saw, but you have to fight this! It was another vision! It was only in your head! Dawnie, Buffy, Joyce, they need you…. I need you….” He barely says the last part, looking down at his hands. 

I process his words, but everything is delayed. Time has been off since I awoke in the hospital or at least changed visions. In my head, time moves slower and the agony is more intense. I’ve missed Spike more than I care to admit, even if he’s not really here with me and it’s all in my head. I welcome the allusion. 

Spike rises from his position with a sigh upon receiving no sort of reaction from me. “I heard of a guru in India who’s apparently dealt with this sort of things before while I was looking for help amongst the covens in New Orleans. I only came back to see if you’ve improved at all...” He moves to step away toward the door. “I’ll check back in before I leave for India,” he informs over his shoulder. 

No, no he can’t leave me, not again! Please, don’t leave me. On impulse, I break free of my mental prison and grab Spike’s wrist. His head whips around as his attention lands on my hand. His eyes meet mine wide-eyed with amazement. 

“Stay,” I struggle to speak for the first time in nearly over a week. 

Spike places his hand over mine. He lowers to my level, knelling beside my bed. A bright smile of glee spreads across his face as relief relishes in his emerald eyes. He cautiously reaches up, cupping my face and I don’t cower away. I ponder the feeling of his touch, leaning into his palm. It makes me feel more alive than I have in days. When I don’t flinch away, he releases a soft chuckle of joy. Before we have the chance to talk, my vision goes black.

____________________________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream​

@hexmancia

[chickensarentcheap]

I Found - chapter 17

No warnings.

Well maybe some cute Tyler and Ovi ;)

Tagging: @alievans007, @hemmyworthy, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

A week later he waits across the street from Hargrave school. Leaning back against the driver's door of a rented SUV.; arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses covering his eyes, smoking a cigarette. He'd given up the habit months ago; being in the hospital for an extended period of time successfully cleanses your body and mind of all your vices. But with his desire to drink again returning at a furious and alarming pace and his med use just slightly above normal, he had figured having one awful habit wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

He remains expressionless yet his as eyes are continuously working. Observing the surroundings, scanning the sidewalks and the road for anything that seems suspicious.  So far nothing seems out of the ordinary. Drivers behind the wheel of cars idling along the curbs, a lone maintenance worker watering the gardens out from. There didn't seem to be anyone...besides him....casing the place. No cars making multiple trips around the block. Just normal people going about their day: parents waiting to pick up their kids, a handful of early release students trickling through the front doors.

His cell phone vibrates against his leg and he fishes it from the side pocket of his cargo shorts.  A smiling tugging at the corners of his mouth. A  picture from his wife: a picture of their baby girl in a brightly coloured sundress and matching hat that one of the maids had gifted her with.  And at that moment it seems so surreal; the realization that he was a dad again.  Some days you're just going through the motions;  moving from one moment to the next without even thinking about what you're doing.  Other days you're sitting in a quiet room or lying in bed and out of nowhere  you think 'wow'.  This is one of those times. Where it actually hits him: how far he's come, the good things in his life that he has accomplished, how the guilt and the regret of the past aren't nearly as painful as they were even six months ago. A year ago he'd been hoping to catch a bullet. Now he was desperate to escape catching one.

A text message comes next. Asking him if everything is okay.  It's a covert way of asking if he's seen anything troubling or if he's caught wind of any brewing.  But he wants to tell her that everything is awesome.  That she and their little girl are awesome.  That he's sorry for getting them mixed up in his bullshit.  That he can't wait to see them.  Maybe it's the worry that something will happen to them if he's gone for too long; that he'll get back to the house and all hell would have broken loose and his wife and kid missing. Or maybe it's the reality that the only time he's truly happy is when he's with them.  That they are the ones who are keeping him sane. From returning to old habits and old feelings and the desire to just end it all.

He messages back. Telling her that everything is fine.  That he's just waiting for the kid to get out of school.  That they're going to go somewhere and talk, just the two of them.  That he'll be home before dinner is on the table. That he loves them.

The bell rings, signalling the end of the school day.  And within minutes the doors are bursting open and students are flowing out; a tsunami of giggling girls talking in ridiculously high pitches,  guys with too much swagger and not enough common sense to realize the ladies aren't falling for their fake macho bullshit,  jocks picking on the weaker kids.  His own high school experience had been normal enough; teetering the line between jock and serious student. But there'd been higher education or career that had appealed to him.  He'd always been a tad reckless. Restless.  And he needed something with action and adventure. That would keep his body and his mind busy.  And he'd enrolled in the army only two days following graduation. He'd  always been a naturally gifted athlete; tall, broad shouldered, strong. And passing basic training had remarkably easy.

Eighteen years seemed like a lifetime ago.  A lifetime filled with more action and danger and risk of death than he could ever have managed.  His own demons making a transition from full time solider to mercenary alarmingly seamless.

He slips his phone back into his pocket as he sees the kid coming down the stairs; alone, eyes downcast, his thumb hooked around the straps of his backpack.  He's taller than most of his classmates now.  And seems so much older than that kid he'd rescued out of that filthy apartment in Dhaka. He's been through a lot. Seeing and hearing things that no kid should ever have to. The terror of being kidnapped followed by a stranger busting you free, but not before they'd slaughtered an entire room of people. Tyler imagines that he would have been confused; his eyes wide as he stepped over bleeding and broken corpses, following a complete stranger into yet another unknown and terrifying situation.  Everything had gone wrong after that. Tyler had never had a job go that bad.  There had been injuries and death left behind, but his duties had been fulfilled quickly and successfully. Walking away with no injuries and permanent scars but nice healthy pay checks.

Everything that could go wrong did. A fucked up series of horrible events that came to an end on that bridge.

****

Ovi stops when he sees him; startled at first, his head moving from left to right as he looks for the usual drivers that pick him up. Then a broad smile brightens his entire face and he's practically skipping across the street. Once again throwing this arm around Tyler and embracing him tightly.  A year ago he'd hesitated to even touch the kid. When Ovi had clung to him on the stairs at Gaspar's.  And he remembers the initial shock of the moment, and how'd he cautiously brought his hand up to the kid's head.  It had been a long time since he'd had to comfort someone. He didn't form personal relationships with the people he helped.  He simply got shit done and went on with his life.

Unlike a year ago, he doesn't hesitate when returning the embrace.  The kid is desperate for affection. He craves it. Needs it.  And maybe somewhere deep down inside, Tyler does to.

“What are you doing here?” Ovi asks, as Tyler tousles his hair and the kid steps out of the hug.

“Thought you could use the change of pace. Thought maybe we could go somewhere and talk.  Privately.  I know it's not easy to get some things out when there's so many ears around.”  The guards unnerved the kid instead of calming him.  He was skittish when they were around; never able to fully relax.  

“About what?”  

“I don't know. Things,” he takes the final drag of his cigarette and tosses it to the ground, extinguishing it with the sole of his shoe.

An eyebrow hitches. “You smoke?

“Always have. Just had to quit for a while. Just don't tell my wife, okay? It wouldn't go over very well.”

Ovi nods, moving around to the other side of the SUV as Tyler pops open the driver's side door. Tossing his school bag into the back seat and ready to climb in when a soft, beautiful voice captures his attention.

“Hi Ovi.”

Tyler notices the way the kid's eyes widen,  the way he looks both terrified and excited that the young woman has actually spoken to him.  She's cute; tall and willowy with shimmering black hair pulled into two braided ponytails. And he grins as Ovi stutters and stumbles over his words, struggling to get out even a simple hello in return.

“I'll see you tomorrow right?” she inquires hopefully, and he nods in response and then holds his hand up in a small wave of farewell before climbing into the SUV.

“Is that her?” Tyler asks, watching through the rear view mirror as she bounces off with her friends, but not before she glances back over her shoulder, getting in one last look. “Is that her?” he asks. “The girl you talked about last night?”

Ovi nods.  

“Well done, kid,” he grins, as he fires up the engine.  “Well done.”

****

They slip into  booth tucked into the back corner of a  nearby deli.  The flow of traffic is light; two customers sitting right at the corner and a third near the hallway the leads to the washroom, and while Ovi orders from the menu, Tyler opts for black coffee. He sits facing the entrance. Always cautious. Feeling that now familiar weight of the gun that rests on his hip.  

Ovi chatters on about school and upcoming football tryouts; sipping a vanilla milkshake and nibbling from a heaping plate of french fries smothered in ketchup.  The excitement and the hope for a calmer immediate feature drips from every word. He's optimistic. Enthusiastic.  Tyler has provided him with a level of safety and security that he hasn't feel for weeks. Probably even months. Spending most of his days since the extraction nervous about possible retribution, constantly looking over his shoulder and wary of everyone and everything.  

“Remember how you were telling me about looking into colleges away from home?” Tyler speaks now, as Ovi delves a little more eagerly into the french fries.  “You said you wanted to get away from here once you got out of high school.”

Ovi nods, then his eyes narrow. “You're not going to try and talk me out of it, are you?”

“Naw, mate. I can totally understand wanting to get away. Wanting to escape. It's why I joined the army once I was old enough. I needed to get away from some bullshit too.”

“From your parents?”

“From my dad. My mom was already gone.  She died when I was twelve. Car accident.”

Ovi gives a sad smile. “I'm sorry.”

“My old man and I never got along. Even when she was still alive. I don't think he ever really wanted kids, to be honest. He wanted my mom all to himself and then I came along and totally ruined that. He's resented me for a long time.  I've always been a burden to him. Someone that cost him too much money and clothe and put a roof over his head. He hated that my mom and I were so close.  Not because he wanted to be close with me. But because I took my mom away from him.”

The emotion chokes at him. Sitting heavily in his chest and tightening his throat.  In the same way in at that night at Gaspar's when he'd told Ovi about his failed marriage and the death of his son.  And he takes a swig of coffee to wash down the mixed feelings of bitterness, grief, and anger.

“So I totally get why you want to get away.  I don't think anyone could blame you. Especially after everything that you've been through. Sometimes we have to leave everything behind. Can't have much of a future if you're spending your whole time  living in the past, know what I mean?”

Ovi nods.

“You ever thought of Colorado?” Tyler asks.

“Like in the United States?”

“Unless there's another Colorado I don't know about.”

“Isn't it really cold there? Doesn't it snow all the time?”

“Not three hundred and sixty five days a year. It's supposed to be beautiful there. Mountains, lots of fresh air, tons of things to do. That's where Esme's from. A little place with about twenty five hundred people. Her family is still there.  Mom and step dad, brothers, a  sister. Tons of nieces and nephews.”

“So now you do have a family,” the kids says, and Tyler nods slowly.

“I suppose I do, mate. Would be nice to meet them, though.  I've only ever seen them through video calls or talked to them on the phone.”

“So they haven't met the baby then?” Ovi's smile fades.  “That's really sad.”

“Yeah, it is. They deserve to meet her. And she deserves to meet them,” he sips his coffee.  “We're moving there. When all this is over.”

It isn't finalized; they haven't made any concrete plans.  But the other night in bed he'd gone onto the 'net and

looked up houses and job prospects and Esme had seemed warmer to the idea. He can see himself settling down there; buying a fixer upper with a view of the mountains, enough land to have chickens and goats (her idea, he felt they'd shit everywhere even more than chickens) and room for their kids to play.   They had just enough money between the two of them in savings that they could afford a decent down payment and still have a bit in the bank for a rainy day.

“You are?” Ovi's eyes widen.  “You're going that far from home? Why?”

“It's time to move on, I guess. She gave up everything in her life to move to Australia and take care of me and get me back on my feet. She misses home. And I owe it to her to give her that piece of her life back.”

He also lays out the harsh truth.  That he's made a lot of enemies along the way; stepped on a lot of toes. It's naive to think that the actions of the past don't have ramifications on your future.  Now that whoever is behind the recent drama knows where he lives, it wouldn't be safe to go back.  And he couldn't put his family through that.  Instead when everything was over, they'd take their passports and leave. With nothing more than the clothes on their backs and a few personal items. It wouldn't take long to get on their feet; he wasn't worried about not being able to find work or support his family. And if that meant living out of cheap motels until they found a permanent place, it was what he was willing to do.

“But you guys will be even further away,” the kid laments.  “What if I need you? You'll be even further away.”

“Not if you come with us.”

Ovi blinks.  “Come with you?”

“We don't have a lot, mate.  It won't be the life you have here.  But at least you'd have a life.  You won't have to be a prisoner in your own place. You won't constantly be looking over your shoulder or seeing something or hearing something that makes you think of what happened in Dhaka. It won't be easy. It's going to be hard for all of us.  But that's better than what you've got going on here.”

“You really want me there? With you and your family?”

“We won't be able to put you in an expensive school like you're in now. There's no way we could ever afford something like that. And we definitely won't be getting a place like you have now.  You're going to have to slum it.”

“I don't care about that. None of that matters to me.”

“You'd be safe there. Safe with us. Most importantly, you'd have people around you that actually care about you. Who worry about you and want what's best for you. You got a shit deal in this life, kid.  You've got an old man that doesn't give a fuck about you and put you in all this bullshit to begin with. But you don't have to stay stuck in all of this. And we're worried what might happen to you if you do.”

Tears sparkle in his eyes, yet a broad grin spreads across his face. “You want me to come and live with you?”

“Like I said, we can't give you much. But we can give you a real home.”

“Like a family,” his voice is a near whisper.

“Now nothing's set in stone, mate, so don't get your hopes up yet. There's some things that need to get worked out before we can even start making arrangements to take you anywhere. I still have to go and talk to your old man.”

“My father?” he's perplexed. Maybe even a little scared.  “Why?”

“Well I can't just take you out  oh India. That's kidnapping.  And kidnapping a drug lord's son? Didn't we just go through that a year ago? There's no need to repeat that.  I need to go and see him. Have a man to man.  He must have at least ounce of humanity left, right? There must be some part of him that cares about his own kid.”

“He thinks of me the same way you do. More like a thing than a person.”

Tyler can still hear those words. As clear as day.

“He doesn't care about anything,” Ovi says now. “Or anyone. It's why I'm in the mess I'm in. Why I was in the mess I was in last year.”

“Well we got you out of that mess and we'll get you out of this one too. I'll talk to your father. Try to reason with him.”

“And if that doesn't work?”

“Well, if that doesn't work, I've got other ways of convincing people to give me what I want.”

“You'd kill him?”

“What?” Tyler chuckles.  “That isn't always my go to, you know. I don't always kill people. Sometimes I do other things.”

“Like rescue people.”

He nods.  It's the exact opposite of the conversation that they'd had in that bedroom at Gaspar's house. When Ovi had asked if he'd always been this way. Brave.

Ovi sighs heavily.  Helps himself to a french fry. Another sip of his shake. Then he smiles.

“You know, I think I could get used to Colorado.”

****

The grass is a stunning emerald green. Sparkling gloriously in the sunlight; plush and smooth against bare feet as she wanders into the courtyard, baby in her arms.  Talking something yet animatedly about their new surroundings, about the trees that tower of them,  the smell of the flowers in bloom,  the way the grass smells and feels, the way the brilliant rays sun cause the ripples in the pool to sparkle and dance.  It is a beautiful home with even more beautiful surroundings; modern, spacious, impeccably clean, But inside it was cold and uncomfortable. Sterile. As if no one had lived there for years.  Not a spec of dust or a single dirty dish in the song. No sounds of laughter.  No conversations around the dinner table.  

And definitely no love.

She'd grown tired of staring at the walls; going stir crazy with nothing more than the wander the halls, take a nap, or read a book. She'd tried engaging the workers in conversation; English was their second language and for the most part, spoke it impeccably. But they'd just stared at her as if she'd grown another head.  As if she'd broken some written that law that prohibited the help from fraternizing with those that inhabited the house.  It was strange way to live; merely floating through your day, no real human contact as you just completed one chore after another.  The job had been lonely at times; returning to an empty hotel room, never knowing when you'd step foot through your own front door again. But at least there had always been human contact.  

Her heart breaks for Ovi.  Being a teenager is hard enough. But being a teenager in his situation was unfathomable. A poor kid thrust into a life of chaos because of his father's poor choices. Left alone in an enormous house, surrounded by beautiful things, yet having nothing to truly cherish.  With Saju he'd had least had someone that genuinely cared for his health and well being, even if it did take the threat against his own child to show as much.  He'd had someone there to guide him.   Protect him. And once he'd died, Ovi had truly been left with nothing.

She selects a spot near the pool, sinking down into the grass, back to the water, legs in the shade cast by a large tree.  She places the her thighs, waiting until the cool breeze and the chirping of birds bring on the beginnings of a much needed nap before she leans back. Hands on the grass behind her, head tilted back, eyes closed as she lets the sun bathe her face in warm.  Needing a moment of calm.  An escape from those eerily quiet hallways and those sterile walls.   From the staff always underfoot and watching to fill even her basic needs. From the thoughts of twelve months ago. When she'd met both Tyler Rake and Ovi Mahajan Junior for the first time and her life changed in the blink of an eye.

Nik had called a half an hour before.  The news was good but not great. She had been able to track down a last name for Farhad but not an exactly location. With no registered place of address and no known associates, it was proving difficult to to pinpoint is exact location.  Somewhere near the market was useless. Those areas were densely populated and the residents and shop keepers feared retribution if they spoke out against the criminals.  

It had been the first time in a year that Esme had been the strong and assertive one. Telling her that she didn't want to hear excuses. The anniversary of the Dhaka job was four days away. And she wanted an address and a meeting time set up.

***

“You know, you shouldn't be out here alone.”

Opening her eyes, she places as a hand over them to shield them from the sun. “I'm not.  There's two guards on the roof and three constantly patrolling. That is not being out alone.”

“Someone is supposed to be with you at all times. You know the rules.”

“Fuck the rules,” she grumbles.  Actually missing the days she was the one on the job, watching out for someone else. “And you're in my sun.”

Jason steps to the side, and she closes her eyes and tilts her head back again.

“You don't need to be here,” she reminds him.

“Someone needs to be.”

“I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And if someone is able to get past two arm guards on the roof and the two out there, then we are well and truly fucked and might as well give up. Because they're obviously superhuman. So...”

“Well forgive me for saying so, but guns can do a lot of damage.”

“You've never heard a first hand account about how a human being can kill someone with a garden rake, have you?”

Jason frowns. “What?”

“It was two people actually. One with the handle and one with the...never mind. Let's just say, it wasn't pretty. Seriously, Jason. Go inside. I'm all out of patience and fucks today. And I like you, but...”

“Well at least one of you does.”

She sighs.  “You're still not ass hurt about that are you? You crossed a line. You got called out on it.  Live and learn.”

“Sounds like you've been spending the last year of your life making a lot of excuses for him.”

“Sounds like maybe you need stop before you cross another line. You're just here because this is where Nik sent you. We're not here to be friends. I'm just a job. In the same way other people were just the job when I got into the game. It is what it is.”

“What I'm curious about is how the two of you ended up forgetting that. That it you were there to do a job.”

Sighing, she sits up and runs her palms along the sides of her thighs to clear the grass away.  “What is your obsession with Tyler? It's kind of creepy.  First you kiss his ass royally the first day you meet him and now you're all up his ass for some reason. I don't know what you think you know about him. About us.  And to be quite frank, I don't really give a shit.  But he's my husband. The father of my child. And I'm not the type that will sit back and let you shit talk him. So if there's what you're here for...”

He holds his hands up in surrender, then unbuttons his suit jacket and sits down on the grass beside her.

“Really?” she asks.  “Do you have no concept of personal space? And weren't you told to stay away from me?”

His eyes sparkle mischievously.  “Are you going to tell on me?”

“Kid, you are walking a very thin line.  You will not like what happens to you if I do rat you out.  Remember the thing with the garden rake I just told you about that? That will look tame compared to what happens to you.  Why are you like this? Why do you feel the need to be around me? It's just creepy as fuck.”

“Just trying to be friendly, I suppose.”

“Friendly is talking about shared interests and the weather. You're asking me questions about my personal life. That's not normal.”

“I was just curious, that's all.  You and Tyler both go on and on about the importance of the job and not forming bonds with the people you help, but the two of you couldn't even follow that yourselves. It seems a little...I don't know...hypocritical.”

“It was a year ago. It happened. Maybe it wasn't the best decision either of us ever made and maybe we should have stopped it, but we didn't. Trust me, we aren't the only two that have done something like that. It happens more often than you think.  We're just the ones that got caught doing it.”

Or maybe they just hadn't been very good at hiding it.  G had figured it out. Asking about it when she'd met up with him in the woods, where they had hunkered down to wait for Tyler to bring Ovi to the extraction point. Anxious to just get the hell out of  there. He'd been more curious than judgmental. After all, he'd met his own wife when he'd been hired to rescue someone. She hadn't been directly related to the job, but their paths had still crossed.

“Come on, you can't fool me,” he'd grinned, when she'd tried denying that there was anything going on between her and Tyler. They'd simply had to pretend they were married and be convincing about it.  And she'd insisted that he gave her the bed while she slept on the floor.

Which had been true. Even if only lasted the first night.

“Who cares what people will think,” he'd said.  “You're two consenting adults. You ended up getting the job done. Nothing got fucked up because Tyler couldn't keep it in his pants. Hopefully the two of you had some fun while doing that whole pretend marriage thing.”

:If only he'd known just how fun.

“I mean, if you weren't strong enough to stop it, you should have at least been careful about things.”

Esme smirks. “You're starting to sound like Nik.”

“Well, it's true. Don't you think?”

“I think you need to mind your own business kid.  What happened between Tyler and I is none of your business. Maybe we should have.  Maybe we shouldn't have let ourselves get out so out of control that the thought of being careful never crossed out minds.  But it happened. It happened and she's here because of it...” she smiles at the baby sleeping on her thighs; dark eye lashes brushing against her cheeks, mouth moving as if suckling a bottle. And she gently runs her fingers through Amelia's hair, noticing the way the sun picks up the hint of red she'd inherited from her daddy.  “..she's here and she's amazing and I'm lucky to have her. To have both of them.  Tyler has his issues and his fault. He's not perfect. But he's perfect for me. For us.”

Finally silence. And she feels as if she can breathe again. Not stuck in a seemingly endless circle of having to explain and defend her choices twelve months ago to strangers and friends.  Her family had been baffled enough. Not understanding how a simple business trip ended up with her never returning home, a marriage, and a baby. All in the span of less than a year. And if they ever found out the whole truth about the 'business trip'...

***

“Are you happy?” Jason asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you happy?” he repeats. “Like genuinely happy. Or are you just stuck?”

“Kid, you must really have a death wish. Asking me stuff like this. What is wrong with you?”

“It's a simple question.”

“It's a nosy ass question. And I don't know you enough to be talking about these things with you.”

“I don't know why it's so hard to answer.”

“I don't know what's so hard for you to understand that I'm not talking about these things with you.  Why are you caught up on my marriage? Jesus.”

“You just don't seem happy is all,” he remarks.

“Well forgive me if this isn't exactly the place I want to be. Dealing with the same kind of bullshit that brought me last year in the first place.  You have no idea what went down.  How bad it went.  So you can't even begin to understand why we are all a little fucked up because of it.”

“Like I said. Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well go and make conversation with someone else, somewhere else. This is not the idea of 'me time' I had when I first came out. So if you don't mind...”

He opens his mouth to continue, but changes his mind.

Several minutes pass by before Esme speaks:

“Are you really that into making yourself feel useful?”

“I like feeling useful.”

“And I can trust you? I need to be able to trust you.”

“You can. One hundred percent.”

“I need you to go to Dhaka and track somebody down. Don't ask me why. You don't need to know why. I just need you to do it.”

“I don't know if it's a good idea to leave. Nik said...”

“I'll take care of Nik,” Esme says.  “I would do this myself, but I've been out of the game for a while now and I have no resources left in Dhaka. All of my people have moved on to other things.  I need you to track this person down and make arrangements for me to meet them. Three days from now. On the Sultana Kamal Bridge. Nowhere else. It has to be that bridge.  Can you do it for me?”

“I'd have to leave tonight. It might take a couple days to even get any info.  Never mind actually arrange a meeting.”

“Leave now if you have to.  But I need you to do this.  Can you? Do this?”'

He sighs heavily. Raking a hand through his sandy hair.  Then slowly nods in confirmation and asks:

“So what's the name?”

[neutralish]

Sakamaki Subaru x Reader (part 1)

(H/L): Hair color (H/L): Hair length (F/C): Favourite color

------------------------------------------------------------------

Silence... It was all you could hear besides the forest noises. Here you were at night wearing your nightgown, which was a simple dress, walking quietly in the forest without any destination in mind. You just got bitten again by one of the Sakamaki brothers, and as usual, they haven't been gentle with you. Your neck and wrists were sore and painful and you were feeling beyond tired but you just didn't wanted to stay at the mansion, so you decided to take a walk in the forest without any care because you just... didn't give a damn about anything. It was comprehensible: chased every day for your poor blood, being humiliated because of their sadistic sides, never had a chance to spill your feelings or being acknowledged as a human being and not as a bag of blood... You were just tired of everything and feeling emotionless which scared you! You still wanted to be optimistic. You steal wanted to feel emotions besides pain and sadness. But here you are walking like a zombie through the dark forest, in search of peace and calm.

Spotting a small river, you marched there to see it more closely. "What a stunning view," you thought, "it could make a beautiful painting... but I don't know how to paint " you deadpanned. The moon was directly shining into the river making it reflect the beauty of the water happily lapping onto it and the small fishes swimming around with some fall leaves. It indeed, made a beautiful contrast with the dark forest as the moon only seems to shone on the river.

You took a deep breath of the wet wood smell which was quite unpleasant but anyway... It's more pleasant to breathe this than the smell of an old mansion. Suddenly, a gust of wind swirled the few dead leaves that were there and your (L/H) went flying around your head. Arms crossed, you shivered "What an idiot, I should have brought a coat" you muttered while trying to reheat your arms by making up and down motions on them. In the rush of getting out of the vampires' home, you neglected the fact that it was the beginning of Fall so you only went out with your nightgown and a thin jacket.

Crack...Crack...

Upon hearing the noise, your head immediately jerked upwards," please let it not be one of them or I don't know what monster !" You silently prayed with a pleading face. Not stopping, the noise came only closer and closer to where you sat...

Crack...Crack...

Slowly rising from the rock you prepared yourself to hide down into the forest as the noises only got louder and closer. Sweat started to bead on your forehead and you felt as if you weren't breathing, your breath seems to have been stuck inside of your lunges." Seriously! I only got peace for like five minutes! Can't they go away and eat they fridge instead of me for once! "

A minute passed... then two...

"Strange..." you thought. Knowing them, they wouldn't have wasted a second in piercing down your already bruised neck and gulping down your, oh, so precious blood. "Maybe it's a cold joke... or maybe they want me to faint from fear..."Just by this thought, you were getting annoyed, heck, you were even ready to shout  "Take my damn blood already and leave me alone!" But nothing came out of your dry mouth. Taking a deep breath, you cautiously rose more from the rock and mentally prepared yourself to face the vampire...

"1...2...3..."  You turned around in a swift motion, ready to be eaten again, but nothing prepared you about the thing in front of you...

A deer... A pure and simple fucking deer watching you with big black innocents eyes. Breaking down, you erupted in laughter as you try to seat down on the rock, which was quite difficult because of your shaky legs. You had been scared of a poor fucking brown deer. "I cannot believe I have been this silly!" You laughed again "It's really brought me nothing good to live with six vampires." You said quietly, your voice still quivering with giggles.

The deer was still watching you as if you where the stranger here and not him but his eyes quickly moved to the river. "I think he came to drink" with this thought you moved alongside to let him make his way to the river. Still, the deer didn't move but his eyes where still fixed on the water as if...as if he was afraid to approach it. "Maybe he's really scared of the water". Wanting to help the poor creature, you untied your shoes, removed your long (F/C) socks and barefoot, you went into the water. Taking some in your hands, you put them in the front of the now much closer deer. Watching you first then the water he waited as if he was asking you your permission to drink. Nodding to him, you put your hands more closely. Slowly bending his head down, the deer took a few sips before suddenly jerking his head up scrutinizing his surroundings.

Tension started to rose again inside of you as you started the search the thing that scared the deer.  "Please be another deer, please be another deer !" Your heart was beating more and more loudly and at a strange pace as your eyes tried to size the dark shape of the forest. The wind only blew more loudly, swirling the dead leaves around and the small noises of the forest were getting worse as if it was announcing the arrival of something dangerous.

Sensing the danger the deer ran away in the forest leaving you all alone... "Dear God, have mercy on me and let it be another animal " you muttered, nervously watching your surroundings. If only you knew that going in near a river means tension plus danger then you would have stayed in this damn mansion!

Abruptly, everything stopped... You tensed at once, your senses where high on every sight, noise or even smell. That when you felt... no... you knew that someone was behind you. Without a second thought, you violently turned around the see the one who disturbed your tranquil moment.

Sakamaki Subaru

You didn't know if you should feel happy or afraid...

Of course, you were more than happy to see him and not Ayato or Laito or even Kanato (you didn't imagine Shu or Reiji going out in the forest) but you knew that the white-haired boy was quiet violent and could break everything with a single flick. Fully turning your body toward him, you stood still in the water, your gaze fixated on him, not daring to even lift a finger.

Frankly, Subaru was a beautiful boy despite his attitude and the eternal scowl present on his face. His light snow pink hair who seemed fluffy and his stunning red ruby eyes made him and his features unique. It only goes well with his really light skin and his body shape. Your trail of thought only stopped when you saw his mouth moving. "I'm sorry,  did you said something? " you asked in a barely audible voice. "The heck are you doing here ?!" His voice was harsh as he spoke to you dryly. " I was trying to find a quiet place because... you all piss me off." You bluntly spoke. What was the point of lying to him, you didn't wanted to get (more) on his bad side so might as well be honest. His scowl only got deeper but he said nothing. With a "tch " Subaru stopped looking at you as his gaze started to take notice of his surroundings.

Right now you were dreading to ask him if he came here for your blood as you silently watched him... but maybe he didn't wanted it right now... you were just afraid to ask because if you did so maybe he would do it and you were already in the verge of fainting! So you just keep quiet in this awkward situation. The silence was back again but it wasn't as peaceful as a moment ago, it was this kind of silence that wanted to make you want to do anything to fill it. The problem was that you haven't any subject to talk about, you didn't even know if you have something in common with him. Plus he was difficult to talk with as he either ignore you or either threw his fist of rage on you. You never saw anything else on his face than a frown. You were sure that once, Laito told you that Subaru was a tsundere ... keyword: a tsundere. Sure you saw him getting embarrassed but he expressed it by breaking a wall or by insulting everything and anything but never in your life you saw him blushing.

"The heck you're looking at!" Subaru suddenly screamed, breaking the awkward silence, startled by his sudden outburst you jolted in the water. "Nothing Sir !" You said in panic... Wait did you just said sir to a boy of sixteen years!? Wanting to pass this embarrassing moment you went on with your dreadful question "Hum... you're not going to drink my blood ?" you asked with your broken voice as your mouth was dry. "Tch, these bastards tainted your blood with their filthy fangs. How can enjoy it !" "Oh... That's great... I suppose " "Don't get cocky, I'll drink your blood as soon as you recover." A small smirk danced on his face for some seconds before disappearing, "How weak are you, letting these idiots drink your blood " Spatted the snow haired.

Isn't this brat getting a little bit too much arrogant...

Your face was twitching in annoyance as you tried to remain calm" Excuse me my dear vampire but as you can see... I'm a mere human so... I cannot fucking fight a vampire!" It was a matter of fact, unfortunately, how could you beat a vampire when his strength was ten thousand times stronger than yours! Your only strength was seen through your words as you spoke little but think big.

Not wanting to talk to him anymore, you turned again to watch your feet in the water, enjoying the pleasant filling. You heard Subaru moving, getting closer to where you were. From the corner of your eye, you saw him sitting down on the wet grass looking up at the moon, mimicking him, you looked up. The moon was still beautiful and his light only shone more brightly showing your and Subaru's beauty as the wind only blew more calmly than before.

Twenty minutes passed at least before Subaru broke the silence " Back then when I gave you the knife... why didn't you killed me or my brothers? You were still watching the moon as you pondered over the question with a frown on your face."Hum... How to put this... I was shocked about these sudden situations, I mean it's not every day that you see a bunch of vampires at the same time or is being pursued every hour or asked to do strange things. But the thing is that...I didn't have the strength to kill, vampire or not..."

This response was partially true of course there had been a time when you planned to kill them but how could you? They knew every movement of yours and you were getting weaker each time they take your life vessel. But the thing was that you were quiet observant despite being physically weak. You knew that, somehow, Subaru was in depression... You weren't totally sure but the way he gave you the knife and asked you to kill him first then his brother put you on this trail. It was almost a plea for uncertain freedom. That why you first wanted to know him better in order to somehow help him 'cause you knew how hard is it to handle depression or anxiety alone. The feeling of not wanting to live or to feel a burden for the world where the worst. So how could you try to kill him? He didn't even saw the good side of life so how could you even try? True, he was a sadist and much more than mean toward you but with the little kindness left in you, you wanted to help Subaru (and maybe his brothers ).

Upon hearing your answer, Subaru watched you in a mean way "Are you an idiot ?! You could be fucking free doing whatever stupid humans usually do and YOU here, stay with a bunch of bastards! Are you this much of a masochistic?!" "Wow..." you thought "is he calling himself a bastard ? " you kept quiet, not knowing what to say. You stared back at your feet who were getting colder but you just didn't wanted to move from the water. As strange as it was you were more feeling safe in the water than on the grass. Subaru was still angrily mumbling about "stupid brainless humans ". True or not, you really did thought that vampires and humans were not so different... Each of them has a complex personality and they are all too hard to understand. The only difference, for you, is that vampires have too much pride and arrogance to compare themselves to humans.

"Say, Subaru?" You began, he spatted a harsh "What?" before you continued, "Are you feeling okay right now? " you asked in a calm and innocent voice. Silence followed your question. You turned your gaze towards him and looked at his face. You tried to read his emotions but all you could see was a face voided of emotion... even his eyes were more dull and blank than a moment ago! "Maybe I shouldn't have asked..."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to meddle in my life!" He told you in a heavy angry voice. He got up from his place with an angry scowl on his face  "Don't you dare to ask me any questions again or I won't hesitate to break you! Approach me again and I won't hesitate to destroy you! "Watching you with mad eyes, he turned his back before disappearing right before your eyes. You weren't going to lie, you were taken a bit aback by his sudden outburst. Sure you knew that he wasn't going to easily open up to you but you didn't expect this...

Vampire or not, he was still a child in his heart, afraid of everything, of the world and not knowing how to seek help and love. Him running- more like disappearing- from your question was comprehensible.

That's why you still wanted to try to help a little bit at least. It's not that you liked him in a romantic way, it's just brought in you a kind of maternal instinct (even though you were only seventeen years old). "Ah, ~ guess next time will be better... if he even comes back here..." You sure planned to return here as it was better than "your home ".

The moon was slowly going higher."Oh my, almost time to go back to school". You gave a last look to the moon before stretching your arms and shoulders while yawning from the lack of sleep. Getting out of the cold water, you putted your shoes back without your socks, because your legs were still wet. A cold wind passed through your legs causing you to shiver again" Next time, I'll be sure to bring a towel." Heading towards the forest you just hopped for one thing" I hope they won't get mad at me for disappearing like this" just by this thought, you wanted to go back in the river but you knew you couldn't... Hopefully, the Sakamaki will be more lenient towards you.

First one-shot, hope that you'll all like it ( sorry in advance for grammar mistakes😣). I'll probably do it in two or three shots.

Neutralish

[theforsakenprince]

Frostbitten Chapter 2: Patton

Previous Masterlist Next

Word Count: 2021

Warnings: getting knocked out, blood but only a tiny bit, lemme know if I need to add anything! 

Patton tried to be optimistic, especially when the storm clouds began to gather in the distance and thunder boomed overhead. He really did!

But even his smile became a little forced when he had to tell his class of SilkWing dragonets that their school fishing trip was cancelled due to the weather. The fact that they had made it all the way to the docks when it started raining and Patton had received instructions to cancel the trip made the situation no better.

He had a class of twelve dragonets, and he would have to disappoint all of them.

“Bad news, kiddos,” Patton raised his voice over the wind. “the fishing trip is cancelled.” Some of the chaperones rolled their eyes, while others tore at the grass in frustration.

He received a chorus of groans and complaints in reply. He smiled apologetically. He knew how much they had been looking forward to this trip. “I know, I know, but maybe we can reschedule-”

“Mr. Patton!” one of the students, Firefly, shouted. “The boat!”

He whipped his head around to look back at the docks and sure enough, one of the boats was floating freely in the water, the rope tethering it to the docks nowhere in sight. He sighed and turned back to the dragonets, who were staring wide-eyed at the boat, scrambling on top of each other and flapping their bug-like wings to get a better view. The chaperones all looked at Patton, as if expecting him to make a decision. 

“Alright, everyone!” he had to shout over the roar of the wind and the pounding of the rain. “Follow your chaperone back to the hive! I’ll be right behind you! I hope,” he added, too quietly for anyone but him to hear. He hoped he wasn’t making a terrible decision. He hoped he would be back on land soon.

As the rest of the class walked away with heads and tails down, Patton turned back to the problem. He sighed and took to the air, slowly making his way to the boat, careful to dodge debris that threatened to knock him in the head or throw him into the ocean with difficulty. His fragile wings weren’t meant to be used in this type of weather.

He hovered around the vessel before he threw his entire weight into it, but it was much too big to push, especially with the weather working against him. His only choice was to try to row back to shore. If only I asked somebody to come with me… he shook his head as the thought crossed his mind. It was too late to fly all the way back to the hive and get help.

He considered leaving the boat, but quickly dismissed the thought. He knew the blame would be put on him, and he would have to pay for the missing property. Getting the boat back to shore was Patton’s only option.

He landed on the boat, stumbling and sliding before he dug his claws into the wood. He looked around frantically until he spotted the oars under one of the benches. He lunged toward it and wrapped his claws around it.

A moment too late, he realized he had never learned how to row a boat before. He gripped the oar and stepped to the edge. “No time like the present, Patton,” he said to himself as he dipped the oar in the water. He chuckled nervously. “I’m in danger.”

Patton ducked as a piece of wood flew over his head and disappeared on the other side of the boat. He gulped. 

It was raining too hard to see the edge of the docks now.  He pushed his panic down and focused on rowing.

The shore was in sight now. His muscles burned from the exertion, but he forced himself to row faster. The shore was so close-

A blinding pain hit him in the back of the head, and he hit the floor of the boat, unconscious. 

Patton woke up to the most painful headache he’s ever experienced in his life. He groaned and sat up, wincing when he realized he had bruises all over his body. He had a vague memory of being pelted by rocks falling from the sky (Was that a dream? It felt weird enough to be a dream) and seabirds flying into him.

Sand was everywhere- in his scales, between his claws, in his eyes. A crab watched him cautiously before determining he wasn’t a threat and skittered away. He could feel seaweed wrapped around one of his back legs, and his mouth tasted of salt.

“W-where are my glasses?” he mumbled, coughing up seawater and sand. He patted the ground beside him and hissed in pain as something sharp pricked his palm. He opened his eyes and realized he’d pricked his palm on pieces of his broken glasses. Blood was now running down his arm, staining the sand below him red. His cat hoodie was soaked, but nothing was ripped, which was a relief.

He attempted to stand, only to collapse back onto the sand. He sighed. Why did everything have to hurt so much? The simple act of rubbing his eyes caused little pinpricks of pain to travel up his arm. He only succeeded in making his vision even blurrier.

Patton forced himself to open his eyes fully and examine his surroundings. Instead of the sheer cliffs of his home continent, Pantala, he was on a beach that slanted upwards to a grassy field. What remained of his boat was spread out not far from him. His heart sank at the sight of the wrecked vessel. The hull had been shattered and the sail was shredded to the tiniest pieces. The oars were nowhere to be seen.

The sound of talonsteps made him swing his head toward the noise. A dragon the color of the beach was making his way toward him. He lifted his head warily, but after a moment, he could tell she meant no harm.

“Are you okay?” she asked. A forked, black tongue slithered out of her mouth. Her eyes were as black as obsidian.

Patton shook his head weakly. He tried to stand again, but fell. The strange dragon caught him with a grunt and began to lead him up the rise. It was difficult because his feet kept slipping in the sand and he was considerably larger than the strange dragon.

He realized she was leading him to a small wooden hut which he presumed was where she lived. She helped him inside and onto a stiff cot. “Wait here,” she ordered, as if he was in any condition to move. “I’ll go find something to fix you up.” she paused on the way out. “My name is Jerboa, by the way.”

Jerboa left the room and returned later with bandages and salves. She started to apply the salves and bandages. Neither of them said anything.

When she was done, she stood up and said, “I’ll get you something to eat. I think I have some pelican in the back…”

Patton laughed nervously. “Do you have anything that’s… not an animal?”

Jerboa blinked at him. “You’re vegetarian?” without waiting for an answer, she turned away, mumbling, “That’s interesting…” 

Patton tried to get comfortable while he waited. Jerboa seemed nice enough, but her fascination with him made him a bit uncomfortable.

And where was he, anyway? It was clear that he wasn’t anywhere near the hives. Did everyone back home think he was dead? It looked like a few days had passed since he left. Maybe his class already had a new teacher. 

Jerboa came back with some plants he didn’t recognize. She set them down in front of him and gestured for him to dig in. She reached for something behind her as he started to eat.

“I assume these are your glasses?” She set his glasses, completely fixed and crack-free, in front of him.

He stared at them, his jaw on the floor. He picked them up slowly and put them on, shocked that they worked perfectly. “How? They were in pieces when I came!”

Jerboa smiled, the first display of emotion he’d seen from her. “I’ve got my secrets.”

He decided not to ask and continued to shovel food into his mouth.

She stared at him as he ate, which was unsettling. As he finished, she said, “I can tell you have questions.”

He nodded slowly.

She waved her talons. “First, I have a question for you. What tribe are you from?”

Patton fiddled with the cat hoodie wrapped around his neck. “I’m a SilkWing.”

Jerboa looked impressed. “So you really are from the Lost Continent,” 

“The what?”

“The Lost Continent. It’s what we call the continent across the ocean. Your continent,”

He let his talons drop. Across the ocean. He had sailed across the entire ocean. He was an ocean away from his home.

He shook his head vigorously. “How did I cross the ocean?”

“On the boat you crash landed into my yard, I presume.”

Patton snickered. “I suppose.”

Jerboa wrapped her tail around her talons, and he noticed for the first time that she had a poisonous barb on the end of it. She caught him staring and tilted her head.

“You really don’t know what I am, do you?” she took his plate away and placed it on a small, stone counter. “I’m a SandWing. Most of us live in the desert, but I like it better here.” she gestured to the hut with a wing. “It’s also easier to avoid the war out here,”

Patton blinked. “The… war?”

“Right.” Jerboa shook her head. “Right now, the entire continent is in turmoil because the SandWing queen died eighteen years ago,” she sighed, as if this was a painful topic to talk about, “Queen Oasis had three daughters: Blister, Blaze, and Burn. When Oasis was killed, all three daughters wanted to be queen, but no one would step down. So they dragged all the tribes into the war,”

He curled his tail around himself, shivering. What had he gotten himself into? Sure, living in the hives wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, but a war wasn’t something he wanted to get in the middle of.

The SandWing looked sympathetic. “I know it’s tough, but you can’t stay here. The IceWing queen likes to stop by sometimes, and she definitely would take interest in you,”

“The IceWing queen?”

“Yeah. It gets annoying sometimes,”

Patton rubbed his eyes and decided not to ask. “If I can’t stay here… is there a way I can get home?” he asked hopefully.”

But Jerboa was already shaking her head. “You wouldn’t know where you would be going. You can’t just pick a direction and sail. That’s suicide. And there’s also the possibility that you could sail into enemy territory…”

“Alright, stop, you’re giving me a headache,”

Jerboa looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Though it’s risky, there is somewhere you could go for the time being,”

He immediately perked up. “Really?”

She nodded. “It’s called the Scorpion Den. It’s one of the few cities that haven’t been touched by the war. It’s ridden over by thieves and criminals, but a SandWing named Thorn has taken it over. It’s become a lot better now that she and the Outclaws are there,”

Patton felt disappointed, but he gave her his best smile. “Thank you, Jerboa. I’ll take your advice.”

After a few days of rest, (Jerboa insisted that he fully recover before setting out) he took some necessities and a map Jerboa had drawn him and set out for the Scorpion Den.

As the wooden hut became smaller and smaller, and eventually became too small to see, he was surprised to feel a pang of homesickness. Homesickness for the hives, for his small apartment, the tiny school he taught at. For the wooden hut he stayed in for a few days. 

He turned his eyes to the horizon, pushed away the homesickness and replaced it with determination. 

He would adjust to his new world. He would make sure of it.

Taglist: @bangchanthelegend

[choicesaddictionwriting]

Lose | Ramsey x MC

a/n: Did I stay up until midnight to finish this? Yeah, but I’m not mad. I hope you enjoy this mess. WARNING: Includes discussions about death, deadly illnesses and mentions suicide (alludes to but not explicitly stated) 

Oh and @perriewinklenerdie asked to be tagged. I hope you enjoy this! 

SUMMARY: After Kendall loses her first patient on the job, Ethan tries to figure out her unusual reaction to the loss and in the process learns something new about his favourite intern.

Lose | Ramsey x MC (Kendall Archer)

“Time of death, 14:26, June 14th, 2019,” Kendall announced, sombrely, glancing at both the watch on her wrist and the clock on the wall.

Express Sympathy?  No need, they weren't any family in the room. She has to do that in a minute.

Listen for Heart Sounds? Done.

Watch for Breathing? Done.

Stethoscope on the heart? Done in one.

Felt for a Pulse? There wasn’t one.

Kendall quickly went through the mental checklist one more time,just in case she had missed something, even though the nurses who surrounded you had already begun to gently pull out the intravenous lines that had once run fluids into her veins and, one by one, removed the stickers on her chest that had recorded her heartbeat.

You’ve done everything right Ken, she told herself.

She was in fact dead.

My first dead patient…

Kendal glanced over the now deceased woman in front of her.  Elizabeth Kane was her name, thirty-seven years old, mother of one. Had come in a week ago suffering from aspiration pneumonia, her careers had caught it a little too late associating it with the seizures she suffered. The stress of the ordeal had caused additional stress. Her blood pressure had already been high, she’d already had a heart attack last month. She hadn’t survived her second.

Elizabeth Kane by all accounts had been a normal woman. She worked until she couldn’t, was happy until the end and very much involved in her daughter's life until it became impractical. She has been very good at pretending nothing was wrong for a very long time and if you didn’t know then you probably wouldn't have thought anything was. But what struck Kendall was no matter how pleasant their interaction was over the week Kendall treated as was the pain in her eyes. Ms Kane would smile the best she could all day long. But it never met her eyes. They were always so dull, exhausted but well hidden.

But Kendall always noticed them.

Perhaps because she knew to look.

“You did everything you could, Dr Archer. Good job,” A nurse complimented sympathetically, pulling Kendall out of her thoughts, as she began to detach Elizabeth’s body from the machines that had once kept her alive.

“Thanks,” Kendall smiled, tuning out the irrelevant conversation that had begun between the nurses over Ms Kane.

She took one last glance at Ms Kane before turning away silently and heading down the hall with a strange feeling of ease as she headed to break the news to the patient's Mother and Daughter who she knew were waiting in the visitor's room.

Waiting patiently for visiting times to start.

Dr Ethan Ramsey never found it hard to find Dr Archer. Her presence was naturally very apparent, you knew when she was around. She also often got lost so it wasn’t rare for him to find her walking aimlessly down corridors from time to time, even now after a few months. She blames it on the fact that all the hallways look the same, Ethan blamed it on her hopeless sense of direction. Also, he could always page her to him.

But today was different. As her Attending Physician, he had heard about what happened with her patient. And even though Ethan made it a point never to interact with Interns out what was necessary he had always made it a point to be aware of when his Interns lost there first patients, Remembering how much his first loss had affected him and how little support he had been given. He never wanted the same for them. Everyone else in the group had experienced it beside Dr Archer.

He knew the day was coming and here it was.

But she was different. He didn’t like the idea of just summing her to his office and chatting. It felt too impersonal after all they had shared and how he felt about her in particular. So he decided to seek her out but it seemed like she didn't want to be found. And he couldn't spend all day looking for her.

For the most part, everything seemed normal. Which unsettled Ethan even more as he had expected more. Kendall, by all means, was very unashamed of the fact that she wore her heart on her sleeve, incessantly and to Ethan excruciatingly positive. An optimist, who believed she could change the world. He didn’t expect a complete meltdown but he expected more. This was the girl who he’d seen be invited to patients weddings after knowing them for an hour in the ER. But there was nothing. There were discussions about it but no mention that she was acting anything but normal.

And he didn’t know why that troubled him.

He did see her later that day. He was on his way to a Board Meeting and he passed her in the hallway. If he could have stopped, he would have, but he couldn't stop. So he offered her a stern nod as she passed, chatting with a surgical intern. She smiled as their eyes met and stuck her tongue out at him.  

But the smile didn’t meet her eyes like they usually did.

Something was wrong.

He saw her again a few hours later. Sitting by herself in the cafeteria seemingly on the phone to someone, tucked neatly out of sight from the other lunch tables, including a table full of other interns. He would have gone to talk to her but he once again pulled away.

It was hours after that when he finally found himself free. Shifts had been over for over an hour at that point. He wasn’t quite ready to leave yet so he decided to take a quick round the hospital to clear his head as he often did before getting back to work. He was making his way across the hospital's courtyard, located right in-between the four main buildings of the hospital when he stumbled across Dr Archer in the otherwise deserted courtyard.

There were a few lights illuminating the paths as well as the lights from the hospital rooms but you could have easily missed her. She was lying on the grass, headphones in her ears as she stared up at the unsurprisingly empty Boston sky.

He walked up to her cautiously. Remaining on the path but leaning over so he could look down at her face.

Her eyes were closed but they fluttered open, most likely sensing she was no longer alone. He worried that he had frightened her but she beamed at him immediately and pulled her earphones out.

“Rookie, why is that always find you in the middle of doing something stupid?” He questioned, sternly, attempting to make his disapproval clear but for Kendall that was overshadowed by his evident concern.

“Well, Dr Ramsey,” She continues to grin, “I tend to do stupid things when I’m alone and you always come looking when I’m alone,”

“And what are you doing exactly, Dr Archer?” He demanded, folding his arms across his c

“Stargazing,” She smiled, pointing up to the sky.

He looked up sceptically to the sky himself.

“It’s a bit cloudy for that isn’t it?” He pondered.

“You can see a few if you look really hard, nothing like back home but they are there,” She shrugged the best she could lie down, “Though I will admit I’ve mistaken a couple of aeroplanes for shooting stars,”

“And I still bet you made a wish anyway,” He half-smirked.

“I shall not confirm or deny that claim,” She stated, attempting to control her smile.

He let himself laugh along with her for a second as a comfortable silence fell over them both as they looked up at the same patch of a cloudy sky. He glanced back down at her and sucked in a sharp breath as she continued to seem mesmerised by the dark sky.

“What are you doing here, Rookie?” He finally asked, his voice low, as quiet as their surroundings, “It’s past midnight and your shift ended what over an hour ago?.”

“So did yours,” She pointed out, tilting her head back to look at him for second before looking back up at the sky.

“I have paperwork,” He offered, coldly, “Now why aren’t you at home?”

“Why do you want me to leave so badly?” She distracted, her voice straining, “I’m not disturbing anyone am I?”

“Well, besides some patients view of the courtyard,” He quipped.

“They can’t see me,” She dismissed before pausing, “Can they? Because I might have been singing,”

“Well, luckily the windows don’t open,” He informed, amused before sighing, “Is there any particular reason you don’t want to go home?”

“Dr Ramsey, I’m fine. I just wanted to be alone,” She reassured, confidently, almost convincingly but not enough for him to be satisfied.

“This is…is about what happened isn’t it?” He introduced gently before changing his mind and asking rather bluntly because he knew how much she hated being alone, “Rookie, do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No, but it seems like you want too,” Kendall responded, watching him closely as he seemed to get more agitated by her words.

“No, I want to know if you want to talk about it,” He repeated, sternly.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” She stated, wondering is she could make it any clearer.

“Then I want to talk about why you don’t want to talk about it,” He demanded.

“Why?” She countered.

“Because this isn’t like you, Kendall,” He sighed, the concern evident as his face contorted in annoyance, running his hand shakily through his hair, before shrugging off his lab coat and placing it on a nearby bench before walking to her side and sitting down beside her. “You’re clearly not okay with what happened,”

“Dr Ramsey…” She questioned confused, propping herself up onto her elbows to look at him.

“Dr Ramsey, I’m fine,” She reassured, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm to reassure him.

“But you shouldn't be,” He breathed.

“What do you want from me? Do want me to cry my eyes out?” She questioned, “Will that make you feel better?”

“Rookie, it’s not about making me feel better. I know you quite well and this isn’t how you would react…”

“Do you? Do you know me, Doctor Ramsey? What do you know about me beyond my resume?” She interrogated, as the tension building between them worsened.

“I know…” He breathed, his mind racing through all the little details he’s picked up about her after all the time they had shared, unable to help a small smile that formed on his lips, Kendall was a talker and even though he usually would filter it all that he had always been unable to help the fact that he remembered everything he knew about her. He paused for a second before proceeding as he knew she needed to hear it, “You smile at everyone you meet and make sure you find something to compliment them on because you never know who needs to feel loved even by a stranger. You make a point to remember the small details that people tell you so they feel listened too. You like to sing or more appropriately hum to help you concentrate and settle your nerves when you’re working. And often those songs remind you of the people you are with. And yes I am very offended that the song you sing around me is Mr Know it All by Kelly Clarkson.  Your favourite part about this job is meeting them and hearing about their lives. You don’t subscribe to the belief that having feeling and being open about it makes you weak, because your Dad once told you that you shouldn't ever feel sorry for loving in the way your heart knows to be true. You know you’re the smartest intern here but you don’t like to make a show it. You have an older brother, your Father is from another country, though you haven't said which one, yet. You played soccer and the piano as a kid but you stopped playing the piano when you were ten, you never said why. You bring your own lunch with you every day except for Tuesdays because they make cookies on Tuesdays and you like to buy extra to sneak up to some of the kids. Oh, and you think Aliens are real which is absolutely ridiculous.”

Kendall stared back at Ethan her eyes slightly wider than before, even sitting up to look at him directly.

“I only know all that though because you love oversharing,” He attempted to excuse, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks.

Kendall smiled at him shyly, “You only know about Tuesdays because that’s the only day we have the same Lunch-break,”

“The kids told me actually,” He corrected, still blushing.

“I guess you do know me a little better than I thought,” She gave in, breathing softly.

“There is something I don’t know about you though,” Ethan continued.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” She questioned playfully, doing a bad job at hiding her surprise that the Dr Ethan Ramsey had decided to stargaze with her in the abounded hospital courtyard, as she laid back down.

“Why you aren’t upset about it,” He revealed, moving to lie cautiously be her side, a safe distance between them, “You aren’t avoiding everyone because you’re upset. You’re avoiding everyone because you aren’t and you don’t want to come off cold or perhaps even more likely explain why you aren’t sadder about it,’

Kendall shifted uncomfortably. She knew Ethan was looking at her but she kept her eyes trained on the sky.

“When the others lost their first patients,” She finally said, breaking the silence, “Everyone else made an effort to cheer them up because they were upset about it. So can’t go home because I can’t pretend to be upset by what happened to my patient. So I figured, I’d just stay away for a bit,”

“But it’s different for you?”

“It’s just that over the past week I got to know Ms Kane, you know?” She finally confessed, letting out a relaxed breath, her thoughts tumbling out of her mouth in what felt in an incoherent manner,“She knew she was going to die. So she made the most of the time she had. She made it mean something. She spent time with people she loved, made a difference. But when she arrived here, she had already accepted she wouldn't be leaving. She loved life but she was done the fighting. She was ready, the pain was becoming too much for her. So how can I be upset? When I know wherever she is, she is happier than she was here,”

“You believe that?”

“Wholeheartedly,” She insisted.

“But there is more too it isn’t there?”

Kendall snapped her head into his direction and for the first time they face each other directly, as they lay there on the cold grass.

“I…I…” She stuttered, unable to speak under the blue gaze and the realisation of how close they actually were.

“You were subtle about it but I noticed how you would brace yourself before you walked into her room,” Ethan revealed, remembering how he had seen her pause before entering Ms Kane’s room on a couple occasions over the past few weeks, “And how relieved you looked whenever you left the room,”

“At least I wasn’t obvious,” She commented.

“Listen I don’t mean to pry, Rookie,” Ethan finally said, wondering if he was crossing a line, he had never cared about someones else’s feelings or state of mind this much, especially interns.

But she wasn’t just an intern anymore and that was his fault. There was something more, something unspoken between them. They hadn’t discussed what happened in Miami in detail besides agreeing never to speak about it. Kendall had seemingly taken it in stride, finding it very easy to settle back into their roles as superior and subordinate. While he struggled to not think about the kiss they shared and the lines he had crossed with her whenever he looked at her. The only reason he was here, was because he had feelings for her, feelings he couldn't admit as they more than what an attending should feel for there intern. But they were there, his feelings for her, they were always there. When they were together when they were apart.

They remained. His constant.

He knew he wasn’t acting like himself and yet in the moment he didn’t care because he knew she was hurting and that was all that mattered to him.

“If you’re okay, we don’t have to talk about it. I’ll leave you alone,”

“No,” Kendall stated, immediately and much to his surprise, grasping his hand tightly.

He stiffened, as they laced their finger together but made no attempt to untangle them.

He nodded before, resting his back on the grass.

Waiting.

“You know how you like to ask me why I’m so optimistic and positive all the time when you get annoyed?” She asked in all serious but her tone was slightly teasing as if shows trying to keep the mood light between them.

“Hmm,” He encouraged, taking everything in.

“It’s because I refuse to live a single day and not have it mean something. Even if it’s something small like making someone smile. It’s small but it means something,” She confessed, breathing heavily, “It’s the only way that I can handle it,”

“The guilt,”

“Of what?”

“Of not having the same defect in chromosome 4 that my mom had, that my brother has, that Ms Kane had” She breathed, “For some reason, I won a genetic lottery and I can’t take that for granted and waste my life by not doing anything with it.”

Ethan involuntarily clutched her hand tighter and moved to rest it on his chest, right above his heart.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” She dismissed, “It was just really hard to see what I could have had if my Mom had loved me enough to want to fight through it even just for a few more years instead of ending it without even trying. So yeah it would have been difficult to explain to everyone that I don’t feel sad about my dead patient but my dead mother. Nobody really knows about my Mom or my families history with Huntington’s disease here at least. Well besides you now,”

“I won’t say a word,” He promised, sniffing after he spoke.

“Ethan?” She asked quietly, sitting up so she could look down at him, “Are you alright?”

He nodded, keeping there captured hands close to his chest as he sat up with her.

“I was just thinking about how glad I…we are…the hospital I mean,” He quickly corrected as he spoke before starting again, stating firmly, “How glad I am that I don’t have to lose you or watch you lose yourself,”

“I’m not going anywhere,” She reassured, wiping a stray tear and leaning in slightly, “You’re stuck with me,”

Ethan likes to tell himself it was the fact that he knew that no one could see him that he let her hug him but he knew that wasn’t true. Even if had known someone was watching them, he still would tightly embraced her, as they continued to whisper quietly to each other about how exponentially fragile life was all while Ethan thanked a god he didn’t even believe in for sparing her from a disease that would have taken every part of who she was before taking her away completely…from him.

After everything, everyone he had lost before her.

He had to thank someone for the mercy he’d finally been shown.

So no, at that moment he didn't care if the whole world saw them.

In that moment, Ethan was willing to lose it all for her.