#grabbing their chest and dry heaving while sobbing

[actual-changeling]

My own post made me think.

Let's say Aziraphale, the new supreme archangel, returns to earth and his bookshop. With some handwavey plot and explanation, he decides to stay and take it over again, but Muriel is free to stay, and they do.

Crowley has been visiting the bookshop on and off while Aziraphale was gone, and there's no reason to stop now, especially because Aziraphale said he wants to 'talk it out'. He hates that everything inside of him is screaming to be near him again, but he accepts it and does it anyway.

One step into the store, and Crowley flinches back, hard, like he's been burned.

He has been burned, he realises with growing horror, but he tries again with the same result. It feels different once Crowley scrapes together enough brain cells to pay attention to it. It no longer feels the way it did yesterday, familiar and welcoming, but searing hot and blindingly bright, like he will go up in flames if he spends more than a few minutes inside.

Aziraphale, eyes purple, gold on his cheeks, lightning hissing under his skin, stares, confused.

"You can come in, Crowley; I told you I just wanted to-"

"i can't." He grits his teeth and tries again, stumbling back when it stings even worse than before.

Crowley understands it first, eyes squeezed shut behind his shades, hands curling into fists. consecrated ground. and not just any consecrated ground, but the holiest he has ever encountered, including the fucking Vatican itself.

When Aziraphale's brows draw together in confusion, the same gentle wrinkles etched into his skin, he wants nothing more than to reach and smooth them out. Love does not leave easily; a spark of hopeful optimism always remains, no matter how hard he tries to rip it out of his chest.

"Your bookshop," he begins, his voice shaking, and when did that happen? "Your bookshop is consecrated ground your fucking supreme holiness, so no, I cannot 'come in'.

The closest thing he has to his actual heaven is torn away from him once more as he falls further and further from grace.

[l0v3tast3]

141 men finding out military!reader is only 19 after they break down from being overwhelmed and overworked??

✎ this idea bounces around my head a lot actually and now i have a reason to write it down finally :) i wasn't sure if you wanted them altogether or separately so i did it separately because it's easier lol. i kept it platonic and sfw!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, reader has a panic attack, descriptions of violence/injury/death, swearing, hurt to comfort, all platonic relationships, only half proofread

you're barging into the safehouse where he had said to rendezvous, gasping for air that your closed throat won't let through. the rifle held in your dominant hand is dropped as soon as the door is shut behind you, and you're clawing at the straps of your helmet and chest armor to get them off because it's too tight and it's too much and you can't breathe.

this wasn't your first mission. it wasn't even the bloodiest one you'd been on thus far. you could handle the gore and the death and the pure misery of the victims of these situations, because at the end of the day, you were helping them, right?

unless you were too late.

the family had been huddled in a corner, two children laying underneath their parents. there had still been two other rooms to check in the house, but you were running out on shaky legs.

he's in front of you now, looking down at you and asking if you're injured. you're sitting on the floor, heaving for breath and tears pouring from your glassy eyes.

"it's not- it's not fucking fair!" you cried out finally, trying desperately to wipe your face dry on your sleeves, but it only worked to redden your skin further. "why are these people doing this? how could someone be so cruel?"

he sighed softly, not knowing how to respond. the team didn't show emotions like this, they didn't deal with them, not like this. but they had all been here, where you are now. they had all asked why, again and again and again until the word lost all meaning.

"i mean, are we even really helping? god, these people are all already dead! why are we here? why- jesus fucking christ, why am i here?" you rambled; you weren't talking to him anymore. your voice was fizzling out, getting quiet enough that he had to lean closer to hear your unsteady words.

"i can't help these people," you sobbed. "i'm just a kid, i'm only nineteen, i can't- i don't know what i'm supposed to do! they said i was special! they told me- said i was so much better and smarter than everyone else, what a fucking joke!"

☆ simon "ghost" riley

he knew you were young, but fuck, if that didn't break his heart, there was nothing left that would. simon didn't talk to you more than any of the others on the team, but you were special, like a little sibling to the team, to him. always having enough energy and kindness to make up for the rest of them.

seeing you like this was a first, even for him, the man who had seen the worst of the worst. it wasn't like he was immune to emotions, but he had spent so long pressing them all down until he couldn't feel them that this was new to him again. all he could do was offer a hand on your knee that he hoped resembled something like comfort.

"we're almost done here. the heli will come for us soon," he said quietly. "you did good, like always."

he watched and waited with you while your sobs whittled away to sniffles, never moving his hand from your knee, where you had grabbed onto it with one of your own. most people knew not to touch him, that they'd end up with one less hand if they did, but you were an exception.

☆ john "soap" mactavish

at first, he doesn't do anything, just kneels in front of you and stares in shock. you're nineteen? you had always danced around the question that the team would tease you with, asking if you still had to work on your homework, but it was always a joke. now it wasn't.

instead of dwelling, john shifts and sits in front of you, almost hovering over you awkwardly as he tried to figure out what to do. sure, he was one of the more open people on the team, but when you're standing next to ghost, just smiling makes you look emotionally vulnerable.

he takes your hands away from your face and into his, placing them on your lap before gently holding your shoulders. "look, we're almost done here, alright? we'll be far away before you know it." that didn't help much, so he paused again.

the almost-distraught look on his face forced a giggle out of you. his worry turned to confusion, why are you laughing now? you probably shouldn't have been, but the big, scottish military-man fretting over you was kind of funny.

"alrigh', lass, at least something cheered ya up," he grumbled, but turned serious again right after. "higher-ups were right, ya know. you are smarter than the rest of 'em. maybe even smarter than us, yeah?" he said with a smile.

☆ kyle "gaz" garrick

it wasn't that long ago that kyle was where you are now, fresh out of school and eager to prove himself in the military. except it had taken him several years longer than you to reach where you both were now; he had had plenty of time to come to terms with the horrors he saw.

now he realized that you hadn't, because you were smart and you were better than most other people, so they had thrown you in, like a minnow in a piranha pond. by all means, you were doing wonderfully for your circumstances, but you could only keep going for so long.

he sat down beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, and wrapped an arm around you to bring your head down to rest on him. he sat with you quietly, giving you the time you needed to just get it all out.

eventually, once you're more calm, he breaks the silence with bad jokes that he definitely stole from simon.

"why do twitter users make bad soldiers?" you lifted your head to stare at him incredulously before he continued, "because, they're too quick to retweet."

☆ john price

the captain knew how young you were. he never told you, but he hadn't wanted you on the team at first; the second he was handed your file and saw your birthdate, he started protesting. but it wasn't up to him this time. he couldn't spare you from this, and he knew that it would always weigh on him. he knew he would always remember this, you, crumbling in on yourself in a heap on the floor.

john came down on one knee in front of you and started telling you a story about when he had started, how one of his first missions had gone so terribly wrong. you honestly thought he was just going to tell you to "suck it up" until he told you about one family he had saved during that mission, one that was still alive today. they still sent him letters, even.

"all you need is one good save, kid. and you've got dozens already," he murmured. he wouldn't say it outright, but you really were one of his best.

you remembered the child clinging to your back as you ran out of a collapsing building, the woman who's leg you had managed to get unstuck from fallen debris, the man you had stopped from being executed just in time.

price smiled once he saw he had gotten through to you and helped, at least a little, and roughly patted your shoulder. "evac will be here soon, chin up now."

[hotxcheeto]

I loved your double trouble fic, could you make another ellie x reader x Abby? No specific plot, go crazy w it <33

━ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader x Abby Anderson

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, SMUT, porn w/ no plot bro, vaginal fingering ( r! receiving ), strap on use ( r! receiving ), kissing, make outs, descriptions of c*m, oral ( r! receiving ), slight degradation, dom/sub mechanics, slightly mean ellie and abby, dom!ellie, dom!abby, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - ooo bae I'm sorry this took so long but it was def fun to write!!! the title is based on the brittanny spears song "3" because for some reason threesomes always make me think of that song that I should not have been singing at such a young age LMFAO. I'm glad you liked double trouble, ily!!

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK!! ITS APPRECIATED!!

"Don't stop, please Abby–"

The room was dark besides the sun peeking in from the window, setting below a horizon none of you cared to see.

Instead all you could focus on was the girl between your legs.

Her fingers making an obnoxious sound as she fucked into you, kissing your knee before leaning back down to return to her assault on your clit and then tease the outside of your hole where her fingers were currently occupying.

Abby's palms pressed hard against the fat of your thighs keeping them almost impossibly far spread. Fingers keeping you so full and going so fast that it made your mind melt and mouth run dry as you struggled to catch your breath.

But you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried, clawing at her, leaving fresh marks on her skin for her to admire and tease you for later.

Your chest heaved heavily, your head absentmindedly turning to the face the other girl that leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed. Watching your body move and squirm with a smirk on her face.

"Ellie.. Ellie c'mere– please, please–"

It was pathetically adorable, she thought as she pushed herself from the wooden frame and took the few short steps towards your outstretched arm.

"Shit." Ellie whispered to herself but no longer was she looking at your face and was instead admiring the way your hips bucked up into Abby's mouth. The blonde not hesitating to slam you back down into the mattress with her free hand and getting you to whimper.

"Oh– m–m'gonna cum–mm–" You cried, Ellie's stare moving up your body that had been covered in your own perspiration. Shuddering and tensing all while holding back just for her.

Abby hadn't slowed nor stopped even in light of your efforts, fucking her hand knuckle deep into your cunt while her warm tongue circled your clit. Her eyes scanning your face as you gasped and choked at the feeling of the tips of her fingers running along your most sensitive spots.

"Gotta ask Abby nicely.." Ellie finally spoke as she kneeled onto the mattress beside your head, letting you grab out to her and squeeze as hard as you wanted in a desperate attempt to release some of the tension that had spread its way through your body.

"Please Abby– plea–" You continued on, babbling incoherent asks of your girlfriend which made her smile.

"You gonna be good? Can't give a brat a reward baby, y'know that."

You nodded quickly, still clutching onto Ellie.

"I'll be good, I promise– please.." Your voice died out, throat sore and scratchy, pleading eyes moving from the one laying down to the one hovering above you.

"I promise–"

"Up to you." Ellie tilted her head and shrugged at Abby, getting off the bed and disappearing towards the toy she'd been using earlier.

Barely a second passed that her words had left her lips that Abby began to fuck you with her tongue, thumb pressing down on your clit.

"Go on pretty girl.." Abby teased, continuing to play with your hole with her warm muscle. "You earned it."

You came against her mouth, legs shaking and mind becoming as heavy as a ball of cotton. Your screams and sobs like music to their ears as Abby fucked you through your orgasm.

Head digging back into the pillows, your entire body arching in a bad attempt at getting away from the overwhelming pleasure. It all became too much too quickly.

Your loud mouth, as Ellie called it, only becoming quieter when Abby pulled hers from your cunt.

She kept you on edge though, not wanting you to lose the feeling and instead slowly moving her fingers in and out of your pussy.

Just then, after a moment, she had sat up to look over at Ellie, letting out a puff of air while listening to you try your hardest to catch your breath.

The only thing you could feel though, in your dazed state, was her leaning on your knee and playing with you like you were just a toy for her. In and out, then she'd run her fingertip around your hole and circle your clit, all to keep you waiting.

You'd learned your lesson in complaining though.

"You ready?" Ellie rolled her eyes at the sound of the question.

"Is she?"

Abby wiped her mouth with her knuckle, glancing at your wet cheeks and then your watery, half lidded eyes. Chest moving up and down much slower now, glistening in the orange evening glow.

It reminded her of a painting.

"You ready for Ellie to fuck you?" She moved up, leaning down to you in order to give you a kiss. The interaction making you forget the fact that it wasn't over just yet.

"Huh babe?" She asked as she pulled back, holding your cheek in her palm. You nodded at her, leaning into her touch as you did so.

"Roll over for her then."

You did, whining at the feeling of being empty and sore but you continued moving to get onto your stomach without much of a fuss, Abby's hands gripping your hips to lift your ass up.

"Fuck." Ellie muttered as her eyes raked over your fucked out form. Doing so as she came over to kneel behind you, her strap bumping your thigh.

"Look at that pretty pussy, you're all wet for me." The fat tip pressed against you making you shove your face into the pillow that you'd gathered in your arms. "All ready to be full."

She watched in awe as you sucked her in, pushing the silicone cock into your cunt with ease at how horny you still were. Quickly bottoming out and grinning at how your ass looked pressed against the plastic harness.

Abby watched just the same, only from her spot against the headboard where she got to admire how your whole body jerked forward with each of Ellie's thrusts.

Going from slow to quick before your mind had a second to catch up with the rest of you. Squeezing your eyes shut while her movements got deeper and faster while you could only gasp and choke on your own air.

It was their favorite sight. Tits bouncing, skin slapping, the sweat forming on your forehead reminding both of them how long you three had been at this. The room hot and stuffy, thick with the smell of sex.

Your cries and moans were swept away soon after when Ellie grabbed your neck and then your face, squishing your cheeks.

"Look at Abby, look at Abby baby." You met the blondes eyes, her expression blank but her eyes told another story. "What do you say to her for letting you cum?"

"Than–thank you Abby.." You dragged her name out, seeing a smile appear on her lips. "That's a good girl."

"You're taking Ellie so well baby." Abby then said, wiping away your tear stains from your cheeks, caressing your face in her palm. "Yeah? You like when she fucks you like this?"

You nodded exasperated, sniffling in but it was almost inaudible by the loud sounds of skin on skin bouncing off the walls. Filling the room to the brim making it the only thing you could really hear.

"Fuck, you're doing good." Ellie stared down at the fake cock disappearing in and out of you, a white ring forming around the base where your ass met her pelvis. Smearing up and down as you bounced on her.

The silicone bumping into your clit again and again bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Abby's hand then grabbed your ass cheek making you turn to look back to see what they were doing. Barely able to though from how shaky your arms were, and how hard Ellie kept you pressed into the pillows

She was watching how Ellie's strap was being swallowed up by you, both girls smiling to themselves at the sight. Cum soaking your thighs and coating the fake cock.

"You're doing so good babe," "Fuck yeah she is." Abby's fingers then slipped underneath your body, toying with your clit. "She's taking it like a pro, right baby?" Ellie added, her hair sticking to her face.

You muttered an incoherent string of words that neither of them could understand, gripping the sheets until your knuckles went sore and your eyes rolled back

"What was that?" Abby asked, taking her hand away and moving to look at you again, lifting your head from the pillow with her hand.

"Think she's had enough?" Ellie mocked, Abby giving her a look. "Leave her alone, she's been good." But her voice lacked the sincerity that Ellie's lacked as well, but your mind was too far gone to realize it.

"Can–can I cu–cum now please. I'll b–e good, I promise, I promise.." You said it again and again, Abby only staring at your fucked out face and pleading eyes with no readable expression.

"Ellie?" The blonde raised her eyebrow, dropping your head.

"Go ahead pretty girl, but what do you say?"

"Thank you– oh– thank you, thank you–" You said it over and over like a mantra as you came, cum dripping from your cunt and onto the bed while your legs officially gave out.

But Ellie kept you up, shoving you back against the dick while staring forward at your face in Abby's grip. Feeding off of each reaction you had while trying to form sentences that only came out as noises.

Her green eyes then focused on the way you clenched around the toy and cried as you did so. Your entire form finally dropping when she let you go.

It was quiet for a moment, Abby pushing away your baby hairs while kissing your sweaty forehead. Comforting you and quieting your whimpers when Ellie slowly pulled the strap from your abused hole.

"You took that so well babe." Abby spoke as her thumb rubbed comforting circles on your cheek. "Of course she did, she's our good girl." Ellie's head appeared beside yours, her lips lightly kissing your forehead.

"Ain't that right?"

PLEASE REBLOG!!! Liking does nothing to boost and I like when people actually get to read my stuff!!

[jakexneytiri]

hii here are some ideas/deets from my last request <3

- scenario where y/n has like a super rough pregnancy and she’s always sick and vomiting. Lots of fluff but also kind of angst idk??!! the kids are worried abt her and neteyam as well so he takes on all 4 kids by himself and lets y/n rest

- neteyam and y/n have their 5th baby and the details on the birth and all the other kids meet the baby and its just a lot of fluff!! and jake and neytiri meet the baby too as well as loak, kiri, tuk

IM SO EXCITED IF U WRITE THESE OMG AND TAKE UR TIME <3

AWEEE i love your mind! (the second part of your request is comingggg, i’ll post it when it’s finished :D)

in sickness and in health

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

a sharp jolt of pain surges through your abdomen, forcing you awake as you sit up, wincing. you gently place your hand on your lower stomach, feeling strong kicks right where your hand is placed. you begin to take short, shallow breaths, as another kick lands just below your ribcage.

your mouth begins to salivate as you grab the pot closest to you. you knew the feeling all too well. it’s been happening every morning for the past several months. sweat beads on your forehead, collecting and dripping down your face, while your entire body feels like it’s overheating. that familiar feeling returns to the back of your throat, causing you to gag. you begin dry heaving, which turns into vomiting everything you consumed the night prior.

meanwhile, neteyam is just outside of your marui, peeking through the flap every now and then to keep an eye on you. truthfully, he’s been worried sick about you, especially these past few months. you both are familiar with all the symptoms of pregnancy. you’ve been pregnant four times now. but it’s never been this bad. so, he decided to give neytiri a page through his throat comm, hoping she might have some answers to your worsening symptoms.

“mother, is this normal?…yes, she’s still getting sick. it’s every morning, i thought you said that would stop. i don’t know what to do, how to help her…i feel so useless. i just want to ease her pain, please…” his voice cracks with his last beg. “please help me help h-” his ears perk up to the sound of you vomiting. “i must go. it is happening again. please send grandmother!”

neteyam quickly opens the flap, seeing you doubled over, emptying the contents of your stomach into the pot he set aside for you. guilt courses through him, settling like a rock in the bottom of his stomach as he hastily makes his way to you.

you feel your mate’s warm hand run along your back, attempting to comfort you while his other hand holds the braids out of your face. once you’re certain you’ve thrown up everything in your system, you sit back against the wall of your home.

neteyam goes to move the pot outside, as to not make you more nauseous. he grabs a bowl of water as he makes his way back to you, guilt clawing at his insides.

you slightly pull your knees to your chest, as best as you can with being pregnant, and bury your face in your arms, sobbing.

neteyam kneels beside you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. it broke his heart in two seeing you like this.

just then, you hear the flap to your marui open, revealing your four children, with jake, neytiri, and mo’at. neteyam looks up, glaring at his mother and father, speaking through gritted teeth. “i thought you weren’t supposed to be back for a few more hours.”

“yeah, we weren’t expecting this either. it’s an emergency, we gotta go.” jake quickly says, holding the flap open.

“what? dad-sir…i’m not leaving her!” neteyam begins to raise his voice, fist clenched at his side as his other hand is still rubbing your back.

“neteyam.” neytiri gently says. “we would not ask if it was not necessary.”

you give your mate’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently encouraging him to go. “it is all right,” you speak, your voice extremely hoarse. “grandmother is here, i’ll be okay.”

“we gotta go, now!” jake’s yelling now, and neteyam stands, quickly grabbing his bow before kneeling to kiss your forehead. “i love you. i’m so sorry, i’ll be back soon, okay?”

Neteyam turns one last time to lock eyes with you, before being yanked away by his parents.

“mama? where’s daddy going?” se’ayl asks, looking at the flap where her grandparents and father just exited.

i want to go with him!” tsantu states, a firm grip on the bow strung around his shoulder.

“mom, i’m tired.” txonuk yawns, stretching his arms above his head and curling up to your side.

nima gently stretches her hands over your protruding stomach, shifting them around a few inches. “wanna feel kicks!”

“children, please!” mo’at exclaims. “let your mother rest.” she begins taking out herbs and plants from her satchel, mixing them with water in a large bowl.

“it’s all right…” you say weakly. “daddy’s going hunting with grandma and grandpa, he’ll be back soon. you can’t go with him, it’s only a trip for adults. you know what, txonuk? mama’s sleepy too. how about we all lay down for a nap, and when we wake up, grandpa grandma and daddy will all be back!”

you shift forward slightly, so your head is resting on your pillow instead of your back. txonuk curls right up to your side, draping your arm over himself like a blanket. se’ayl and tsantu follow, laying beside you comfortably. nima rests her head on your stomach, ear perked up against your skin to “listen” to the baby. mo’at raises the bowl she’s been preparing to your lips. “drink, child. it will help with the nausea.”

you lift your head up, parting your lips just enough for the cool liquid to ease its way down your throat. “thank you, grandmother.”

mo’at nods, setting the bowl aside. “you may rest, i will keep watch until they return.”

“no, no…i can………..stay……………….awake…….” your eyelids droop with exhaustion as you speak, and as you speak your last word, they stay closed. you finally succumb to a comfortable sleep, as you wait for your mate to return.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

[redr0sewrites]

Sub!Sanemi Thirst<3

🥀Cw: smut, dry humping, overstimulation, cursing, rough dom reader, sub space, begging

🥀 minors dni

Sanemi is such a whiner. He's all bark and no bite, he acts so strong and untouchable yet crumbles at the slightest grind of your hips against his! sanemi acts so mean, he truly thinks hes in charge at all times- that is, until your fucking him senseless. its almost pathetic, hes cursing you out with tears in his eyes yet hes taking your cock so well, sucking you in like hes addicted to you- and truly, he is.

Gag him, tie him down, slap him, bite him, ruin him. He needs it fast and rough and hard, and he needs it to hurt. Sanemi is never satisfied unless he has an assortment of marks to show off the next day, bite marks and scratches littering his chest alongside the scars he wears so proudly.

praise him, degrade him, it doesnt matter to sanemi. he just needs to hear you, to feel you, he just needs you. whether your overstimulating him until hes a babbling mess, screaming your name like a prayer, or whether your edging him until his voice is cracking and hes almost- almost- begging you to fuck him, sanemi needs you to talk him through it every step of the way.

dont treat him like glass, he can take anything you give him. push him to the ground, step on his dick and only let him get off by grinding against your shoe. it's humiliating, he'll fight it at first but the sight of the oh so strong wind pillar humping your shoe like a bitch in heat is always worth the complaints he will throw at you. and believe me, he will complain. sanemi will bitch and curse and shout at you, yet the second you gag him and grab his neck roughly hes putty in your hands.

i think sanemis head gets really hazy during sex very easily, hes the type to enter subspace pretty quickly. the more confusing and overstimulating you make it for him, the more blissed out he becomes. treat him harshly, fuck him rough until hes practically sobbing but sing the sweetest praises to him until hes babbling in confusion. he barely knows what he wants, his brain is just so fuzzy, he cant even think :( or, if you prefer, you can treat him sweetly, fuck him slow and soft and press little kisses to his scars while you worship his body until hes feeling hazy, then start spitting out the cruelest words. call him your whore, your slut, your bitch in heat, anything and everything that comes to mind. he can't determine the difference between pain and pleasure anymore, and in either case will turn into a helpless needy whore from the stark contrast of your words and actions.

"f-fuck you!" sanemi spat at you, trying to squirm away as you snickered. he didnt get far before your foot returned to his crotch, pressing down roughly against the bulge in his pants. "imagine what the others would think if they saw you right now," you smirked, looking down at him as you spoke. sanemi's eyes squeezed shut at your words, and his hips bucked up instinctively against the toe of your boot as you applied pressure to his clothed dick. "oh? do you want them to see you? who knew, the mighty wind pillar is such a whore. grinding like a bitch in heat against my shoe." you sneered, moving your foot to press a little higher and sanemi whimpered. "ngh- shit" sanemi gasped out, hands clawing at the carpet as he desperately chased the friction you were supplying. you paused at the sound, looking down at his flushed face. his bare chest was heaving, and his hair was ruffled as he looked up at you, eyes already glazing over in pleasure. the eye contact made his cock twitch, and you began to move your foot ever so slightly. sanemi let out a choked moan, throwing his head back and bucking his hips again to grind against your shoe. "awww, your doing so good for me baby~ such a good boy, getting off like a little whore on my boot for me. your so pretty baby, such a needy little thing!" sanemi let out a sob at your words, his whole body tensing as the grinding of his hips grew more sporadic as his orgasm approached. he was humping your foot desperately, tears forming on his lashline as need began to ivercome his dignity. "fuck fuck fuck fu-unhhggh" he moaned desperately, the pleasure clouding his mind and making him feel all floaty. he could feel his release about to form, yet at the last second you pulled away. why were you being so mean? sanemi let out a soft sob at the loss of contact, and you cooed, moving to straddle him as you wiped tears from his face. his head was so hazy, he couldn't think straigh, not with the feeling of you pressing against his painfully hard cock. sanemi's hips jolted upright, dry humping you as he grinded desperately, begging for release. you smirked yet again, pinning his hips down and forcing his movements to a stop. fuck, you couldn't wait to ruin him

BARK BARK BARK I NEED HIM SO BAD IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH SHAKING THE BARS OF MY CAGEEE URGHRHH THIS MANNNNNN

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi so i loved what the body wants and i was wondering if you’d do something similar like they hate each other, get locked in a small space but R’s claustrophobic and Rissa helps. Just a bunch of fluff? X

Yesss. Hi anon! Here’s an enemies to friends angst and fluff piece for you, dear anon!! Hope you Enjoy ♥️♥️

Numb and Afraid ~Soft!Larissa Weems xFem Teacher!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, enemies to friends, happy ending fluff, claustrophobia, high anxiety, implied anxiety attack, crying, comforting, pet names, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Yes, Miss L/N… What do you want?” Larissa sighed in annoyance as you entered her office.

You gritted your teeth together at her tone. She made the hair on the back of your neck stand up in the worst way. You took a deep breath.

“I need access to the storage closet. I’m out of Kleenex.” You explained.

Larissa looked up from her work and looked you up and down suspiciously, as if you would have nefarious intentions with some tissues.

“I see…” she breathed out, “Well, I shall take you there myself.”

She decided and stood up, grabbing her keys.

“No need. Just need the key!” You quickly exclaimed.

Larissa stopped what she was doing, grabbing her things, and stared at you.

“I will be going with you. You have no other business but to get Kleenex, and I shall make sure you stick to it.” She condescendingly explained.

You gritted your teeth together again in anticipation. You nodded in defeat. The blonde raised her head in superiority, as she led you out of her office. The two of you walked to the storage closet, and Larissa unlocked it and held the door open for you.

You nodded and entered, immediately looking for the tissues. Larissa entered with you.

“Is that really necessary?” You sighed in frustration, “it’s only Kleenex…”

“It is absolutely necessary if I deem it so.” Larissa huffed.

But because she had entered behind you, she had let the door go. So it shut. And locked. You heard the click and immediately spun around.

You quickly looked around and suddenly the room looked very small. Your heart fluttered and began to race.

“Did the door lock?” You quickly asked, your mouth going dry.

Larissa had been intently watching you that she hadn’t noticed. But as you mentioned it, she went to open the door and it was locked.

Your mind started to spiral. Larissa tried the key but as she was inserting it and turning it ripped in half, blocking the lock entirely with its first half.

This was your nightmare.

Your eyes frantically ran over everything in the room, desperately searching for a way out. Tears started to form around your eyes. Your breathing was shallow and labored.

Larissa heard a sniffle behind her and turned around, clearly annoyed.

“What is the Ma—” she exclaimed halfway before shutting up at the sight of you.

Larissa’s face dropped into concern as she saw your chest heaving and your tears. Your hands were stimming by shaking violently in front of yourself.

She immediately dropped the defect half of the key and was at your side. Her one hand rubbed your back while her other cupped your cheek. You instinctually leaned into her touch, looking for any type of comfort. Sobs started to pour out from your throat, uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Are you claustrophobic, by chance love…?”

You nodded into her chest as sobs continued to pour out of you.

“Oh Sweetheart… Let me call someone to get us out of here, mkay?” She offered soothingly.

You sniffled, backing away slightly and nodding. As Larissa nodded and got on her phone, you fell to the floor against a wall. Your tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face and you’d started stimming with your hands again.

As soon as Larissa had called the right people, she was right next to you once more.

“I’m so sorry, Darling…” she softly whispered, holding you as she had sat on the ground herself, “I did not know, I’m sorry…”

Larissa continued to apologize and comfort you until someone finally got the door back open.

“Thank you…” you croaked, as you finally exited the storage closet.

Larissa squeezed your hand reassuringly and smiled genuinely.

“Anytime, Sweetheart. Anytime.”

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[citruslullabies]

For some reason I just want to see Dogday x child reader, Basically they're somehow surviving in the place, and the child has grown quite a bit, and basically he's comforting reader after a nightmare

Here you are love! Took some creative liberties

Trigger warnings: blood, depictions of gore, death, just the standard stuff

Romantic/platonic?: platonic

Requested by: anonymous

Category: comfort angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x child!reader

Word count: 746

They Haunt Me

You remembered when everything went wrong, the day… no. The hour everything just collapsed onto your tiny shoulders at once.

You were about to get adopted, about to leave the place you had been raised in but you couldn't wait to be someone's little kid. And it was such a nice couple adopting you too, a woman named Krystal and her wife Emma. They looked at you with such warm loving eyes, only to be filled with terror moments later and to fall cold.

The screams and the desperate sounds of footsteps were all you could hear as you let out choked and quiet sobs, huddled up as far back as you could be. You hoped and prayed that everything would calm down and would be alright again as you shut your glossy eyes and prayed to an extent that no child unless truly desperate could comprehend.

You slowly opened them, eyes burning with salty tears as you heard the screams outside of that door. You didn't even know how you were still alive, everything hurt both mentally and physically. Your body felt like crumpled paper.

Everything suddenly quieted down, the scampers of critters and small weeps could be heard but going into the distance. You felt brave enough to finally get out of your hiding place and stumble around the massacre inside of the building.

With each footstep you grew more paranoid and afraid but you kept moving, yelping when suddenly a hand grabbed your ankle. You looked down in fear and saw a man desperately holding onto you, somehow alive but too far gone to be saved with his body sliced and torn as if fabric with carefully knitted guts spilling out and painting the ground he crawled on, nails broken and bloodied from being in the way of the only hand he had to move with. He tried to speak but blood gurgled in his throat, only making your fear worse as you shook him off and ran.

You found Krystal and Emma, both dead and brutally torn apart but hand in hand. Despite all of this… the blood, the gore, everything. This is what hurt the most. The women who were going to take you and love you so dearly, strung apart like confetti. Krystal’s face was wide open like her arms were, and Emma’s jaw was hanging on by a thread just like you were at this very moment.

With a pained gasp, you shot up and held your chest. Clutching your heart only covered by your flesh and bones that seemed to threaten to tear through them, sweating violently. You gulped and dry heaved a bit while shaking just like you did when you hid. You were still just a kid, even if you were much older by now. Dogday heard you and came rushing, kneeling beside you and pressing a paw against your forehead with the other on your back. “Angel?”

He was worried since you were the only thing he had left in this place. He could defend you from the monsters that lurked in the shadows but he could never protect you from your own mind. “Cherub, look at me… it's okay. It'll be okay.” The canine said softly while sitting on his knees, bringing your shaky form to him as he cradled you in his arms. You tried to say something but could only feel choked up as he continued to rock you like you were the most precious thing in the world. And you were to him.

“M-mom, mama…” You choked out, saying the names that your new adoptive mothers encouraged you to call them before it was too late. Dogday had found you months after the hour of joy, shocked that someone was still alive. Especially someone so young, so he had taken you in as his own. In the end you were still adopted just under more unfortunate circumstances. Dogday carefully shushed you and pressed his dry nose against your forehead, sighing shakingly.

He rubbed your back and squeezed you tight in his arms, being careful since you were just skin and bone. He carefully rubbed your scalp with one hand so you could have the comfort you needed. “They're not here, cherub. I'm so sorry.” He whispered before adding with a shaky voice. “But I'm here, I'll always be here. I promise.” He reassured softly while feeling you slowly but surely relax in his arms.

Sadly, promises were made to be broken.

Thanks for requesting!

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azriel x Reader | The Secrets We Hide

type: angst warning(s): this is a heavy topic, please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable, talk of child loss, potential second child loss, blood; also for personal reasons this is a topic that matters to me a lot, writing it down was hard but this is also why it is very honest and emotional, so pls be kind with feedback word count: 3.1k words request: i had an idea for an azriel angst. one where the reader gets pregnant but doesn’t tell him, so he only finds out later on? but i feel like the reader had valid reasons as well shdjks@moonlightazriel thank you once again for helping me find a name.

-all rights reserved-

A tear slides down your cheek, tasting salty in your mouth. You meet your empty gaze in the mirror, dead, dull eyes staring back at you. The skin around them, red, puffy, swollen. Your throat feels dry, burning with a scream that moments later silently slips through your dry lips. You feel so empty, so worn out, so robbed of life. 

Your hands tremble when you lift them, the blood on them looked smudged through your teary vision.

A ragged sob rips itself free, the thick red liquid such a stark contrast to your white bathroom.

“Please, Y/N. Please open the door.” Azriel’s voice is so soft yet stern, his knocking loud but gentle. 

Air wheezes in and out of you lungs when you try to calm yourself down. It does not work. Your heart beats in your throat, your lower belly aching so terribly bad, it makes you grind your teeth.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice now louder, he pounds against the door. When he casts his glance down to the floor, he can see small droplets of deep red blood. His heart started racing, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck, on his back, his palms clammy.

“Open!” he pushes again, pounding harshly, loudly, agony and dread colliding inside of him. Horror takes root in his chest when fear and panic seep into every fiber of his body. “Y/N,” Azriel pants, leaning his forehead against the door. “Please, let me in. I just need to see if you are—“ The door slowly opens, making him tumble slightly, but he catches himself, catches you. The shadowsinger wraps his arms around your trembling figure, your body so cold, so fragile in his hands.

Azriel pulls you to his chest, your shoulders shaking, soft sobs leaving your mouth, your chest heaving against his. He is careful to not put any pressure on your front, only embracing you softly while curling his arms around you. The shadowsinger kisses the top of your head, one hand brushing through your damp strands of hair. They are damp with sweat. That sort of liquid that builds up on your skin when you are in a state of panic and horror. 

“I am so sorry,” you whisper against his chest, voice raspy, breaking at the last syllable. Your body trembles in Azriel arms when a shudder courses through you before let yourself fall against his chest. A sharp pain pierces your lower belly, like a bolt of burning fire, and you release a dreadful scream, pulling backwards. 

Your breathing once again quickens when you glance downwards, to the little bump, barely noticeable, and your blood streaked nightgown, the thick red liquid running down your thighs. 

Azriel grabs your upper arms, shock having widened his eyes. They pierce into yours, but you cannot hold his gaze. Tears build up in your own, toppling over the edges, running down your cheeks where the previous tears have just dried. Your eyes burn, your lips are dry, your nose feeling clogged. Just like your throat where another loud sob rips itself free. 

“Don’t apologise,” Azriel whispers, although his heart shatters into a million of pieces. “Madja is on her way. Everything will be,“ —Azriel swallows thickly, his own throat burning, lashes dampening— “you will see, it will all be fine.” He doesn’t know that. And that uncertainty and horror filling every fiber of his body is worse than anything he has ever felt before.

You are carrying his child, god forbid—were carrying his child— and he has only found out about that minutes ago. All emotions of shock about, this sudden knowledge, have vanished, being erased by the feeling of utter and pure pain about what has happened to you just a moment after you have jerked up from bed, screaming from the bottom of your lungs and putting the cards on the table. Azriel has been shocked first but then everything has become a blur, you getting up, you falling, and suddenly there was blood. So much blood and is has been everywhere, is still everywhere.

Your bedsheets are still stained a deep red when Azriel guides you to the bedroom, holding you tightly by your arms, weak steps carrying you over to the bed. He doesn’t want to pick you up, although it would make it easier for you. But he does not know if it would hurt you even more and so he rather supports you like this, helping you climb on the bed on his side, so you wouldn't lie in your blood. Azriel kisses your brow when he pulls the sheets over your lower half.

He does not care about the blood getting everywhere, he just wants Madja to come and her to take care of you. He wants you to be fine. He does not want to see you hurt, in pain, crying.

You wince when icy hot pain fills your abdomen, your fingers curling towards your palms. “Sshh,” Azriel whispers, his hand brushing up your cold arm, over your shoulder until he places it on your neck and leans in.

Azriel’s brows are on yours, his warm breath caressing your skin, his scent and his presence the only thing that calm you at least a little bit.

Pain splits your heart open, cracking it in half, but you try to hard to focus on your mate, on him being here with you and how he holds you. Sweat has dried on the back of your neck, feeling clammy. So do they insides of your thighs and when you think about it you can already feel the burn in your throat again. A sob leaves you, scratching over the insides of your throat like sandpaper. You cry out, tears, although you have thought there were none left, building up in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. Your hand curls around Azriel’s wrist, the other holding the bedsheet when you weep.

“Please, calm down. Madja will soon be here,” Azriel says, panic and sadness filling his tone even though he tries so hard to be strong. To be strong for you. For the two of you. You are what matters most to him, his number one priority, and seeing you in so much pain is the worst sort of torture he could have ever witness. A small part of himself believes that he might deserve this for all the bad things he has done, but you…you don’t deserve this. Any of this. You are good and kind and warm and something like this happening to you…how could someone do such a thing?

The shadowsinger curses the Mother and the Cauldron but the thought of mother rips his heart into shreds, leaving open a wound which your loud sob rubs salt into. 

And then thoughts bubble up, getting so loud, so unbearable. Only if he had known. Why did you not tell him? Maybe he would have noticed that something was off and could have acted earlier. He has this selfish thought that he hates himself for, but if he had known he would have had time to be happy about becoming a father. It is selfish but it hurts so much, that he wasn't allowed this happiness, after everything that has happened before.

So before he can stop himself, a tear from him falling onto your skin, he says, “Why?”

Azriel swallows around the lump in his throat, his eyes burning, so he clamps them shut while your own open. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

A breathy weep parts your lips and you give your head a little shake. Regret and sorrow and also hate towards yourself fill every fiber of your body, making icy fire blaze through your veins. 

“I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to wait until it was safe that we would not lose another one. I did not want to—”

“Y/N,” Azriel says softly and brushes his hand over your head.

“I did not want to hurt you again. I did not want you to have hopes again and I ruin it. That I ruin it again.”

“Y/N, you are my priority. And yes, I wanted to be a father, but you come first always. You ruined nothing. This wasn’t your fault,” Azriel says and wipes his thumb over your cheek, the skin under your eyes swollen and red, so are your eye lids.

You meet his gaze through a blurry vision, your lip quavering and finding yourself unable to answer. Because you blame this on yourself. Your belly, your female belly, cannot carry a child.

You are a woman who cannot carry a child and this hurts. You can never make Azriel a father, you can never see his happiness about being a father. First you haven’t been able to conceive for three centuries, you have nearly given up until one day the news came: you were pregnant. Both Azriel and you were euphoric and anticipated the birth of your child until the fatal day where your life and happiness and anticipation were crushed like a beetle you step on. You haven’t tried for a child for a long time after that. Until you started trying again. 

And now…now this was all again for nothing?

Your whole body shakes when you draw in a deep breath. You feel like such a failure. The one thing you have wanted so much, to become a mother, it is all taken away from you again? How do you deserve this? How does Azriel?

You feel his lips on your forehead, his thumb brushing over your skin, soothing and slow. 

“I want you to be safe and happy. This is what matters. And if we can’t have children we—“ “Don’t say that!” you say loudly, panic ringing in your voice. You tilt your head back slightly, needing some distance between you and him, between you and what he has just said. What he has suggested. That you aren’t able to carry children. 

“I am sorry. I didn't mean to say that.” The shadowsinger leans over you, kissing your forehead, his fingers intertwining with yours. 

“But you did,” you bubble and bring your other hand up to wipe over your nose. He has said the one thing that has always been locked away behind iron gates in your brain. This one possible knowledge that you might not be able to carry children. That your body isn’t able to do.

And now that he has spoken them out loud, they hollow through the room, through your mind, stretching out and nearly suffocate you. You suck in sharp breaths of air, chest heaving rapidly when awareness downs on you what he has suggested. Azriel has given up. He has given up his hope. He thinks you aren't able to carry out a child, you have failed him. You cannot be a mother but he…he can be a father. With someone else. You would allow him that. You know he wants to be father more than anything else you would allow him—

You barely feel the hands on your chest, on your cleavage, holding you down. Azriel’s voice seems so far away over the blood rushing in your ears, the rising panic inside of you.

Only when his face is mere inches from yours, you can leave your thoughts and focus back on your mate.

“Please, calm down. I didn’t mean to say it like this. I mean that I will love you no matter what. Please, my love, please calm down. I—“ A knock sounds from the door and when Azriel gets up everything comes crashing in on you. You scream, thrash your hands against the mattress, crying and sobbing loudly.

Madja, let in by Azriel, rushes into the bedroom and before doing anything medical related, cradles your face inn her hands and forces you to look at her. “Look at me, Y/N. Look at me. I am here, we are going to fix this.” This is truly the worst kind of torture for Azriel. He slumps against the wall, shoulders hunched, crying, air wheezing in and out of his own lungs. He regards you, how Madja slowly peels back the sheets, examining your legs and wincing only the slightest bit. And even if it was just a barely-there wince, it hasn’t gone unnoticed by Az. And somehow, somehow he knows what it means. What she will soon tell you...

“For how long has the bleeding been going on?” she asks in a calm voice, gentle and empathetic.

You shake your head, having lost ever sense or space and time. Azriel needs to be strong for you, so he comes up to Madja and you, bracing one hand on the bedside table to steady himself. 

“Since half an hour, maybe an hour I would say,” he informs her, his own voice trembling.

“Hm, I see. Please, may I?”

Madja motions for you to lift your hips and even though it causes you excruciating pain you do as told. She peels the bloody piece of undergarment down your legs and places it on the floor next to her, no sign of disgust on her face. Her eyes fall to you centre, only looking for a moment, sometimes glancing at your belly. She presses her lips in a firm line, wiping her bloody hand over a cloth she has brought and then reaching over to the bag that is standing on the bed next to her. 

“Azriel, be so kind and prepare a cloth and a basin with some luke warm water.”

While Azriel hurries of Madja pulls all the tools she needs out of her bag, placing them on the mattress next to her. She softly brushes her hand over your knee, before helping you spread your legs a little further. “I will soon give you something for the pain, I just have to do some checks first.”

You give your head a nod, biting down on lip when it starts to tremble. “Is the baby alive?”

It is then that Azriel returns and Madja blinks her eyes for a long moment. “No!” you shriek.

No answer is also an answer and so you can assume what her silence means.

Azriel crouches down on the floor, next to the bed and you, his hand moving to yours while Madja leans in, softly inserting a tool. 

“I will see about that now, Y/N,” she says and adds, “but I have to warn you, this will hurt now.”

Nothing will hurt more than hearing the words again: I am so sorry, but...

The one hand holding the cool tool inside of you, the other moving over your belly. You cry out, your heels pressing into the bed when your back arches and your bottom lifts. This pain is even worse than what you have felt before. 

“One more time,” Madja says. “And this will hurt like hell, but I can comfort you, the baby is alive.” It is the only thing you needed to hear, the only thing that matters to you. And now that you have this knowledge, all the pain will be fine, all the pain will be alright. You take it all, accept it all.

Your scream of utter and pure pain fills the room, hollowing of the walls. You still feel it seconds after, still as strong and poignant as before. But slowly, really slowly it starts to vanish. 

“The baby is fine?” Azriel asks like he cannot believe it, damp strands of hair toppling over his forehead, his skin covered in a thin film of sweat. He looks between Madja and you, disheveled, broken but starting to heal.

“Yes, what you felt, Y/N,” —Madja removes the tool from inside you, wiping it and then her hands clean on a new cloth— “was a wing.”

She uses the basin with the warm water and the cloth to clean your core, your thighs and your lower belly, softly and carefully running it over you.

“The baby has wings?” Azriel queries, his eyes going wide. 

“Yes, the baby has wings. And one of them got stuck and when the baby wanted to turn the talon, that has already formed as it is usually one of the first things, has cut into your womb, ripping, rather it open. That is where the bleeding and the pain came from. I pushed the wing back in now, it should hopefully stay there.”

You cannot comprehend anything, relief and happiness over this baby inside you still breathing, still living, still developing, eroding every other thought and emotion. 

“You will need quite some medication that I will bring around later and you are bound to the bed for at least a week or so so this all can heal, Y/N.”

You nod at the healer, squeezing Azriel’s hand. “I know you have a high risk of losing your child, but you have surpassed week fourteen, I am almost positive that you are going to bring this child into this wonderful world.” Letting go of Azriel’s hand, you take hers into yours instead, holding her tightly, crying tears of relief. 

The shadowsinger releases a loud breath and bows his head at Madja. “Thank you," both say in union.

With Madja’s help Azriel has managed to change the sheets, she has left then and returned already few moments later to bring you all the medication needed. And although she was positive this time it would work, you still have to risk which means that you should not do anything that would be too exhausting or too strong. 

Azriel carefully heaves your top half onto his chest, his arm curling around your waist, softly placing his hand on your belly that now no longer hurts so badly. It still hurts, but the soft brushing of Azriel’s fingers over the membrane soothes the pain. He hums when you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I am sorry for not telling you.” “I doesn’t matter anymore. You are healthy and safe. And so is the baby. That is what matters to me.”

You kiss the side of his neck, your hand moving over his heart. "I love you and you will be an incredibly father, Azriel.”

“And I love you, Y/N. I will continue to love more and more with every struggle we face and once this child is here you will be the best mother in the entire world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

[foreverrandomwritings]

this soft & sweet prompt with dean winchester 🥹 romantic

“you’re not alone. you never were.”

Burgers, Fries and Pie?

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare Dean does his best to soothe you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: Death, torture, blood, nightmares, guns, hospitals, little angst and fluff.

Word count: 773 (short and sweet)

Masterlist M's Hundered Celly Masterlist

Dean had jolted out of his sleep as a scream ripped through the air around him. He sat up quickly, grabbing the gun under his pillow and scanned the room. He thought for a moment that maybe he had imagined the scream and laid back down. He put his gun back and reached out across the bed for you. His hand met the skin of your arm and you jerked another scream ripping through the air. 

“Honey, you gotta wake up.” He gently tried to wake you up. He reached out for you again barely laying a hand on your arm before you were shooting up. 

“No. Get off him. No. Please. Please don’t hurt him.” You were sobbing as you struggled to get away from him. 

“Honey it’s me. It’s Dean.” His voice was soothing as he spoke to you. Your chest was heaving violently as you struggled to control your breathing.

“Dean?” Your voice barely above a whisper as the word slipped from your lips. 

“I’ve got you, It’s okay.” He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears off your cheeks as your eyes connected with his. 

“You were gone Dean. They killed you right in front of me.” More tears crawled along your cheeks as you spoke. He wiped them away smoothly, understanding seeping through him. One of your biggest fears was losing him, you’d come close last month on a vampire hunt. They had gotten the drop on both of you, their numbers larger than you expected. Had Sam not shown up you doubt either of you would have made it out alive. They had been seconds away from bleeding Dean dry when Sam had shot through the door. 

“They didn’t kill me, I survived. I’m here with you.” You brought your hands up to cup his much larger ones that were on your cheeks. The rough feeling of his skin against the smoother palms of your hands grounded you back to the room. Your breathing slowly steadied as he gave you a smile. 

“I can’t be alone Dean. You can’t leave me alone.” You searched his face, looked at the freckles along his cheeks committing every tiny dot to memory. 

“You’re not alone. You never were.” You had spent years alone, your parents having died shortly after your seventeenth birthday. You had decided to go camping around your twenty third birthday. That’s when the Winchester brothers found you on a hunt. You had been captured by a Wendigo that they were hunting. You were worse for wear and you hadn’t expected to live much longer until they came blasting through the doors. In the glory of flannels and molotov cocktails. 

They had taken you to a hospital and Dean had decided to stay with you while you recovered. He didn’t want you to wake up without any answers to questions he knew you’d have. When you woke up he eased you through everything. You had quickly decided you’d never leave his side again. So you have been with them ever since. Learning the ways of hunting and going from motel to motel with them. But you always feared that this life was a dream and you were still alone in that nasty cave with the even nastier monster. 

“I will never leave you alone honey. I promise.” He meant the promise to, no matter what he would make sure to make it back to you. Even if he died he would find some way out of it. 

“Can we go grab something to eat?” You asked him abruptly, wanting to get out of the room to take your mind off the nightmare you had just been pulled out of. 

“What’re you thinking?” He asked you a spark in his eyes. He scanned your face, taking in the dip of your nose, the shape of your lips and every small imperfection. He would never get sick of being able to look at someone so breathtaking. 

“Burgers, fries and pie?” You asked him cocking your head slightly. You already knew that he was going to go with you, the man would never pass up food. 

“I knew I loved you. Let’s go, I saw a diner up the street.” He was pulling you out of bed as he went. Throwing your jeans and shirt at you. You shrugged off his flannel you had fallen asleep in before slipping into your clothes. As you walked out the door you pulled his flannel back on. Slipping into the passenger seat of the Impala, AC/DC spilling from the speakers, his hand in yours, you knew you would never be alone.

A/N: I really really really loved writing this. Thank you for this request Meg! Definitely thinking about actually finishing my first ever fanfic I posted on this hellsite.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell

[bqstqnbruin]

Ghost of You

Hello hello I'm here with a fic that might make you upset oops

This was inspired by some of @laurenairay's 1.5k follower celebration fics and Ghost of You by Five Seconds of Summer

Shoutout to @kat-hearts and @wyattjohnston for reading through this and editing/giving suggestions for this because they're amazing and then I'm tagging @matthewtkachuk and @raysofcrosby just to annoy them

Word Count: 6701

Warnings: Alcohol, Swearing, Mean

Flashbacks are in italics

_________________________________________

You told yourself it would never get serious. It was just supposed to be fun.

Yet, there you were, sitting on the floor of your bedroom feeling like you had your heart ripped out. Your friends told you not to date him, not to get close to him, that there was nothing good that could come from being with him. He wasn’t at the point of wanting to commit to anyone. You thought you wanted the same. 

He was just supposed to be a hookup. 

There was no reason why a fucking social media post should be bothering you the way it did. 

Fuck it. You had time off work banked, you had a car with a tank at least half full of gas from what you remembered, and your mom had just complained that she had hotel points she was going to lose and practically begged you to take off her hands, and you had always wanted to go to Vail, your friends telling you how much fun they had the last time they went without you. 

What better way to get over someone than by just running away from everyone else? 

Your phone was lighting up every few minutes with texts in the group chat, the one that didn’t have him in it, calls from your friends, his teammates, all of them worried about where you were and why you weren’t answering. You were glad someone was worried about you, but you couldn’t pull yourself together long enough to answer their calls or look at their texts without breaking down into that horrible, gut-wrenching sob, the kind that drove you to the point of dry heaving. 

Cale told you he liked you. He told you that he felt a way about you that he didn’t know how to put into words. He looked at you and said he could see himself with you for a while when he hadn’t thought that about anyone, at least not in a long time. 

He didn’t have to tell you he was seeing other girls and that he needed space. He didn’t  need to send the text telling you that he thought it would be better for both of you if you didn’t want to talk anymore because he didn’t want to lead you on. He didn’t have to let you believe that everything he had told you was true, letting you fall for him the way you thought he was falling for you. 

You turned your phone on Do Not Disturb, your lack of ability to know where you’re going and which way you’re heading barring you from turning off your phone completely. All you could do was grab the bag you packed for the weekend, fill up your car with gas, and hit the road for the hour and a half road trip to the hotel in Vail. 

You take one last look through your apartment, the normal “what if I left this plugged in/on and it caught on fire?” panic setting through you in the minutes before you want to leave when you notice the coffee cup sitting there on your kitchen table. 

Cale spent his first night at your place not long after you started seeing each other. You weren’t even really sure if what you were doing was considered dating by the day’s standards, just knowing you were somewhat ‘together.’ You two were out late at a bar with his teammates and some of your friends the night before, Cale insisting on walking you back to your place to make sure you were home safe, not worried about practice the next morning for once in his life. 

The two of you spent the night talking, your laptop perched at the edge of your bed, Cale with his arm pulling you close while your head rested on his chest, his heart beat making you tired with the steady rhythm. You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until his alarm was going off that following morning, the two of you entangled in each other and neither of you wanting to move from where you were. 

“You have to get ready for practice,” you whispered, feeling his arms pull you closer when you didn’t think that was possible. 

“I have time,” he murmured against your forehead, a light kiss placed there that made you melt in ways you didn’t know you could. 

“I’m not going to be responsible for you being late,” you tell him, trying to pull away. You had to start getting ready for your day, too, his alarm only making you do it much earlier than you had planned. “Plus, I need coffee.”

Cale mumbled something again, you managing to get yourself free of him, turning around to see his arms still reaching out for you to come back. “No, stay here,” he whined.

“Cale.”

“Please?” 

“I’m making coffee.” 

You laugh to yourself as you hear him calling for you, the coffee pot coming to life and the smell of the drink filling your nose, when you feel Cale’s arms snake around your waist, planting soft kisses along your neck and working his way up to your jaw. You turned your head slightly towards him, his grip tightening as his lips find yours. You turn your body completely to face him, your back arching against the counter as he kisses you harder, a smile on his lips as they make their way back down your neck, your hands making their way to his hair as a small groan leaves his lips when you give it a slight tug. 

“I don’t want to leave,” he tells you, another kiss planted on your lips. 

“You have to, though,” you lament, the coffee behind you finally ready. You turn around with his arms still around you, reaching for the cabinet where you keep an unnecessary amount of mugs that are almost never used. “Which one do you want?”

You held in front of him the two most ridiculous mugs that you had, knowing that the laugh about to come out of him would easily be your new favorite sound. One mug was made in the shape of a bulldog’s head, something your dad claimed he got when he was visiting a friend at Georgetown, but there’s no way a university with that much intelligence would sell something like that, the other one something that had to be given at a retirement party or a memorial service or something, an old man named ‘Randall’ plastered on it in various states of adulthood with the dates 1960-2020 written on it. 

“You know, Serina told me about these,” he starts, holding back more laughter and referring to your best friend. “But, she really didn’t do them justice.” 

“Whichever one you pick is yours , the unofficial ‘Cale’ mug of my apartment.” 

He laughed, kissing you again in a way that made you want him to keep doing it forever. “I guess I’ll take Randall?” 

You meant to throw out the mug, donate back to the thrift store that you got it from a few years ago since Cale was the only one in your apartment who was allowed to use it. Every time he was over, it was out on the table. Every time he left, it was in your dishwasher to be cleaned for the next time he was coming. You didn’t even remember putting it on the table. 

You swallow hard, putting the mug in the corner of your kitchen where a pile of his stuff that you didn’t want to look at already sat. 

Your phone lights up, one of your friends using the ‘notify anyway,’ feature that made your blood boil. You didn’t want to talk to anyone. They all had your location, they could see where you were.

Driving was your least favorite thing to do, avoiding it at all costs, so the fact that you even thought you were going to take a road trip by yourself on the premise of ignoring everyone you could talk to, was baffling. Just you and your thoughts with only the road to distract you.

The little tv screen on the gas station started talking to you, one of those stupid commercials that probably didn’t pay their actors enough making more noise than any car on the street. The commercial couldn’t bother you as much as what you forgot was in the back seat of your car, the Stanley Cup playoffs sweatshirt Cale gave to you sitting there, slightly faded and probably incredibly dirty having rarely been washed, staring back at you like it was taunting you. 

The night before the game, Cale was a wreck. He was in his hotel room in Boston, he called you panicking, pacing back and forth on the hotel carpet. “What happens if we lose?”

“Then you come back and win game seven at home,” you tried to reassure him. 

“What if we lose because of me?”

“Has that happened before?”

“No specific examples that I can think of come to mind, but what if I blocked them out because of the trauma?”

You bit your lip, finding it weirdly endearing that he was this nervous about the game. You knew how much was riding on this, the Avs down 3-2 in the series, meaning this was win that game and force the even more nerve wracking game seven, or lose and hope for next year. “While that is totally valid,” you started, “In the time that I have known you, you have not been the reason the team lost a game.” 

“What if-”

“Cale,” you cut him off, “I get that you’re nervous, but you know the best way to go to sleep before a game is to be calm.”

“Easier said than done,” he huffed.

“I know. What can I do to help?”

He stays silent for a minute, the pacing finally stopping. “Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly.”

“I wish you could be here for the game tomorrow.” 

You felt your heart break, knowing that the one thing he apparently wanted was the one thing you couldn’t give him. “Cale,” you breathe out. 

“There’s a flight from Denver to Boston tomorrow morning that would get you here before we’re done with practice.” 

“You’re looking at flights for me?” 

“If you want to. I’d pay,” he offered.

“Cale, I can’t let you do that,” you started. You weren’t together. You were just supposed to be hooking up, and the fact that he was about to pay how much money for you to get on a flight to see him halfway across the country was something you didn’t do for someone you were just hooking up with. You hadn’t even been to one of his games yet. Only some of his teammates knew you two even knew each other. “I can’t get the time off work with this short of notice unless I have a doctor’s note.” He had to know it was a lie, you feeling a pinch in your chest when the silence on the other end of the line went longer than you had wanted it to. “I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat, finally, your heart breaking with the sound. You knew he was disappointed. You wanted to make him feel better, but this was too much right now. You still hadn’t even had the conversation about what you were to each other. “No, no, I forgot, sorry. It’s fine.”

“Cale-”

“Hey, I gotta get going,” he tells you, hanging up on you before you can say anything else.

You weren’t wrong, were you? It would have been amazing to fly out on short notice to see a game where your favorite team won the cup. To be there with a player you were dating? Even better. But you weren’t dating him. You liked him, sure. What’s not to like about this perfect guy, an incredibly sweet person who you feel lucky enough to know, your heart skipping a beat whenever his name shows up on your phone screen, when you hear your friends or coworkers mention his name in conversation, only a few of them knowing that you were seeing him in any capacity. 

You had the sudden urge to call him back, tell him that you weren’t going to say fuck it to work and that you would be there waiting for him when he was done with practice. Your finger hovered over his name in your call log, the outgoing call could show up on your screen in a matter of seconds if you just pressed the button. 

You couldn’t do it. 

That would be something you did if you were his girlfriend and you wanted to go see him in one of the biggest games of his career. You would do it if what you had with him was serious, or you at least knew for sure how you felt about each other, you knew where this was going. You had no answers and now was not the time to find them out when the guy you needed the answers from was busy pacing back and forth in a hotel room and probably on his way to vomiting. 

The next night, you were with your friends in a shitty bar watching them, the black and gold logo at center ice mocking you as the score was 4-0. The camera panned over Cale, the bar too loud to hear what the announcers were saying, but you knew it wasn’t good. They were saying the exact things Cale was worried about the night before, that he wasn’t playing his best and that it was his fault they weren’t winning the game. There was minimal chance of recovery for them at this point, and while it wasn’t impossible, Boston had done it before, the Avs hadn’t to your knowledge. The game looked like it was about to end, a shutout loss for the team in the game that could have kept their hopes alive. 

The camera flashed back over to Cale, his mouth covered by his glove as he fought back tears. This was supposed to be their year. It was supposed to be them winning the cup.

You left the bar before the game was fully over, the image of Cale in tears enough to make you do the same. You shouldn’t be this broken up over a boy you weren’t seeing. There was no need to be this broken up over him. 

You started walking home, the air cooling down as it got later in the night. You felt your phone vibrating, expecting it to be one of your friends asking you where you went. 

Cale’s name flashed on your phone, your heart racing. You were afraid to answer it. What were you going to do if he was crying on the other end of the call, if you could hear the guys in the background also upset. You weren’t sure you could take it. 

You reluctantly answer, letting out a weak hello in anticipation of him being upset. 

“You should have been here,” he said, an angry tone in voice that you weren’t expecting. 

“What?”

“You should have been here,” he repeated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “I spent the entire game wishing you were here, that I could look up to the box and know you were there even if I couldn’t see you, and it fucked me up. We lost because of me. We lost because you weren’t there.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit, “I told you I couldn’t come. How is it my fault I can’t just leave my job?”

“You should have been here,” he tells you a third time, his voice raised this time, “Up in the box with all the wives and girlfriends.”

“I guess I would have to be a wife or a girlfriend to be there, then, huh?” You hung up before he could say anything else, a sob escaping your body that you didn’t even know you had in you. 

Cale spent the rest of the night trying to reach you, texting, calling, dming on social media, any form of communication you ever had between each other was being used by him while you ignored him. 

How dare he blame you for the team losing the game. He wasn’t the only person on the team, and he wasn’t even on the ice for three of the goals. It wasn’t his fault they lost, and it definitely wasn’t yours, either. 

You fell asleep angry, your phone never ceasing to be lit up by Cale’s constant attempts to reach you. He had family he could call, someone else he could contact. Anyone besides you, the person he was hooking up with in a way that wasn’t supposed to be serious. 

You woke up the next morning, unsure if the pounding was from the brutal hangover made worse by your bad mood, or if someone was trying to break down your door. You get out of bed, sure to mention a few expletives while you make your way to your door to find Cale standing on the other side, eyes bloodshot and his face looking pale. 

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, staring at him, trying to process him being there in the first place. You clench your jaw, trying to stay with the same attitude you had the night before. “You should be.” 

You invite him in, Cale finding his way to your couch. You sit on the opposite side, trying to position yourself as far away as possible. “That was unfair of me,” he started. You sit there, waiting for him to continue. “I shouldn’t expect stuff like that from you when we aren’t, you know,” his voice trailed off.

He should just say it to you, tell you that you weren’t actually his girlfriend. You wanted to hear it from him, even if it was going to rip your heart out in the process. 

“I like you, Cale. A lot,” you told him.

“I like you, a lot, too,” he said, shifting himself so he was sitting right next to you. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to kiss the side of your head. You wanted more from him, more than just the confirmation that you liked each other. You had been playing this game for more than a month now, that stupid hook up turning serious when you weren’t supposed to get this close. 

“I brought you something,” he broke the silence that had fallen between the two of you. He pulls the sweatshirt off his body, the one that he had been wearing for the last month and a half or so, the one that was for the playoffs that each player got. “You keep stealing my sweatshirts when you stay over, I figured I would give you one, instead.” 

That fucking sweatshirt. You jump when the pump clicks off, momentarily forgetting that you were outside a gas station at that very moment. You could just throw the sweatshirt out, the trash right there between the pumps. You take the sweatshirt out of your backseat, standing there in front of the trash can longer than you probably should. You couldn’t throw it out. You pop your trunk, throwing it behind your bag that was sitting there waiting to be in a hotel room with you, relaxing and far away from everyone. 

What else did you have to do besides drive to the hotel at this point? You check your phone one last time before you hit the road, the notifications not stopping as your friends start to panic when they watched you leave the house, your ‘Find My Friends’ feature showing them you were at the gas station. 

‘I’m fine, just need to get away,’ you send them, not wanting to give them anymore. 

You scroll through the rest of the notifications, your mom the only person who really knew where you were going. You see a notification from Nate, one of Cale’s teammates and one of Serina’s best friends, a missed call for the first time in who knows how long. 

You try to ignore the notification, that one sticking out to you more than the rest. Plugging in the directions to the hotel, you finally start driving towards Vail. 

Everyone around you was beyond shit faced. The Avs were about to start training camp, the last party someone thought to throw at one of their houses before they had to get back to work after the previous season. They were out for blood, but first they were out of alcohol. 

It was a surreal experience to be the most sober person in a room. You weren’t able to operate machinery or make big decisions in any capacity, but you at least were sure you were going to remember the rest of the night. 

You were sitting on the couch by yourself, scrolling through your Instagram feed, trying to ignore the fact that Cale was on the other side of the room, flirting with some girl one of the other guys brought. 

He had the right to. You still weren’t exclusive, still not calling each other anything more than the person you were hooking up with. You weren’t seeing anyone else, but you hadn’t told him that. You didn’t even want to ask if he was seeing anyone else. That was only going to lead to you being upset. And while you’re drunk, you shouldn’t be upset. Because when you’re upset and drunk, you were bound to make a stupid decision.

No matter what was on the screen in front of your face, you couldn’t help but look up at Cale. You knew he saw you. You knew you were right in his line of sight. You had caught him looking over at you a few times already, a stupid smirk on his face that made your blood boil. He knew what he was doing. 

Motherfucker.

“You called?” Nate said, plopping down next to you with such force your phone falls out of your hands and onto the floor. When you look at him confused, he continued, “You said, ‘motherfucker,’ so I made a bad joke.”

“I didn’t know I said that out loud,” you admit. 

Nate laughed, loudly, or at least, loud enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks, and enough for Cale’s attention to finally turn to you for more than a second. The smirk on his face immediately turned to a scowl when he saw Nate, probably sitting too close to you for his own comfort. 

“So what’s up with you and Cale?” Nate asked. You shrug, hating that you had to have this conversation yet again after having to have it with your friends who knows how many times. “He’s not your boyfriend, though, is he?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not at all.” 

A sickening smile grew on Nate’s face, his arm snaking away around your waist. “Is this ok, then?” he whispered. 

You could see Cale’s face getting red from here, watching Nate flirt with you like he was. Nate knew what he was doing. The entire team knew what you and Cale were up to, there’s no way he didn’t know. “Yes,” you said. 

Nate got as close to you as he could, pulling you so you were practically sitting in his lap. “What about this?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your neck.

“Yes,” you told him again, turning your head to face him, his lips tantalizingly close to you. You glance to the side, Cale’s entire body now turned towards you and Nate. You didn’t want to kiss his teammate, which was where it looked like this was going, but if it made Cale feel anything about you, you were sure it was worth it. 

Before you could process what was going on, Nate’s lips were on yours, moving fast in the way that Cale’s always did at first, that urgency and hunger that he had for you showing with how he couldn’t wait to have your entire body touching his. 

He wasn’t Cale, though. He was Nate, not Cale. 

The only thing going through your mind was that he wasn’t Cale. 

You pull away just as fast as Nate had pulled you in, managing to get out of his grip and got off the couch as fast as you could. You ran to the nearest door you could get into upstairs, your heart racing as you searched to see if you were the only one in the room. You couldn’t have someone in there watch you break down over a guy. 

You waited in the room for what felt like forever, the stupid drunk part of you thinking that Cale would come through the door to see you. Or at least Nate would check to make sure you were ok. 

Neither of them came. 

You felt like you were already driving for hours, when it really was just twenty minutes alone with your own thoughts. How were you supposed to get away from everything when it seemed like everything you saw reminded you of a fucking guy? 

Your music wasn’t enough to keep your thoughts away from Cale, every one with lyrics about being in love or about feeling like you weren’t good enough. Why were those the only two moods you felt? 

Your stomach starts to make noises, suddenly remembering that you hadn’t eaten anything since the afternoon before at work, wondering how well you could navigate the roads of whatever small town you were driving through at that moment to find food. You reprogram your GPS quickly, a diner about five minutes off the exit of the highway. You weren’t even sure what you wanted, you just knew you had to have something. 

A waitress comes over to where you sat down, ordering a burger and fries since it was the only thing you could comprehend as something you’d eat while you tried to figure out why the place seemed vaguely familiar. 

Diners had a weird place in your mind. They were the place where you went at 2 in the morning with your friends after a drunk night, where you went for cheap food and lots of it for breakfast at noon or later after a drunk night, or where you got something quick to eat before getting drunk that night. You could probably count on one hand the number of times you had been to a diner where alcohol wasn’t involved at some point around going. 

Cale had texted you that night that he wanted you to come over. You did, because of course you did. You wanted to see him, and apparently he wanted to see you. You spent the night together, waking up with his arms wrapped around you, his bare chest pressed against your back and his breath tickling the back of your neck. Every time you woke up like this, you couldn’t help but feel like you could fall for him harder than you already did, like you could be with him more than you already were. 

Cale stirred awake, mumbling something against your neck after pressing a sweet kiss against your skin. You turn over, stretching and yawning as he finally released you from his grasp. 

“Wow,” he said, his raspy voice making your heart skip a beat. He stared at you for a second before continuing, “You are beautiful.”

You didn’t know what to say to him, leaning over to him to kiss him as the only response you could think of. You wanted this to be more with him. 

“Hey, can we,” you started, not entirely sure where you were going to end up. 

“Let’s get breakfast,” he said before you could finish, jumping out of bed and throwing a shirt on. He handed you one of his sweatshirts, it hanging on you and hugging you with his smell. You still had the sweatshirt he had given you up in your apartment, sitting on your bed and afraid to wash it because you didn’t want to lose that scent. 

He drove you outside the city, a small diner that you had never heard of. Everything was shockingly blue, the seats, the tables, the walls, you were sure the lighting also was as well. 

“How do you know about this place?” you asked him as you slid across from each other in the booth, confused as to why he would bring you here, of all places, when there were plenty of breakfast places within walking distance of his apartment, 

He shrugged, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, his thumb aimlessly tracing the back of your hand. “I found this place my first year here. I come here when I want to get away from the city but can’t really get away for any meaningful amount of time. It’s kinda special to me.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. Him taking you to a place that was special? That had to mean something, right? “I’m honored, then,” you blushed. He had never really taken you anywhere in public, not without your friends or his teammates. Was this a date? 

“I’ve taken some of the guys here, too,” he told you, releasing your hand to look through the menu. “Nate’s favorite thing, surprisingly, is the banana walnut french toast.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of his teammate known for having an incredibly strict and almost grossly healthy diet, having something that sounded so sickeningly sweet with a cinnamon maple syrup and whipped cream on it as the menu description told you. 

Your mind jumps back to that night with Nate, wondering in that moment what he was doing, who he had woken up next to, where he was spending the morning of his off day. 

Would you have gone further with Nate if Cale weren’t right there? Would you have had anything with Nate at all if Cale weren’t there?

That’s why the diner was familiar to you: Cale had brought you here plenty of times since that day. It was your breakfast ‘date’ place, even though he never actually had an answer for you when you tried to ask him if they were dates. He avoided the question at every chance, never wanting to commit to anything more than that. 

A couple sitting at the other end of the diner, sitting on the same side of the booth, sharing a plate of fries and looked at each other as if no one else existed around them. 

You hated them.

You and Serina somehow ended up at a restaurant downtown that you had never been before, and from the looks of the menu, it made sense why you weren’t there ever. It was way more expensive than any other place you had ever been, even a simple salad being more than what you were really willing to spend on a bowl of lettuce. 

“Why are we here?” you whispered to your friend, slightly mad that she would bring you here without telling you where you were going first. She had to know you would never have agreed to a place like this if she told you ahead of time. 

Serina gives you a look that told you she’s up to something, something that you were sure you were going to hate. “You’ll see.”

“What does that mean?”

“Can you relax? This is supposed to be a nice treat for you.”

“Oh, so you’re paying?”

Serina scoffed, your anxiety spiking instantly. “No.”

“Well I can’t afford this and I don’t think this is a great treat if I’m expected to pay.”

“No, you’re not paying.” 

“Well the only other option is something illegal, and neither of us would survive in prison if we commit a felony.” 

“I don’t think skipping out on our bill would land us in prison.” The entire time, Serina didn’t look up from her menu, your heart racing and the prospect of what she had planned. Her phone lit up on the table, a call from someone you couldn’t make out showing on her screen. “Oh, hey, I’ll be right back.”

Before you could argue, Serina was gone, the phone to her ear and you left alone in a place you didn’t want to be. You start looking around; you could just get up and walk out the door. Serina took her bag with her, so it was just you at the table and your waiter or waitress hadn’t even come over to you yet. It wasn’t illegal to sit at a table for a little bit. They willingly lead you there. 

“Hey,” you heard from behind you, a hand placed gently on your shoulder that still made you jump. 

You turned to see who it was, expecting it to be Serina rejoining you at the table. “Nate?” 

The burger came, no one on the other side of you like there was that night, the couple across the diner still mocking you without them realizing it. You hadn’t expected Nate to show up, for him and Serina to be planning that little swap between the two of them since that night at the party. You especially hadn’t expected him to apologize for not chasing after you that night like he thought he should have. He saw Cale, instead, who asked him why he was talking to you that night, if you had talked before. 

Apparently Cale had dropped the conversation as quickly as it started, the girl he was talking to while you were on the couch with Nate taking his hand and dragging him off somewhere else. 

The food was still sitting in front of you, completely untouched. You check your notifications, your friends still trying to figure out why you up and left the way you did. 

If you were being honest, you weren’t a hundred percent sure. Something inside of you broke when you were scrolling social media, his post shattering your heart in ways you didn’t know was possible. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, this was just supposed to be a hookup. 

“Why were you with him?” Cale had texted you that he was on his way over, not giving you anything else when you asked him why. As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, he pushed past you, his face red and his voice loud. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Why were you with Nate the other night?” 

“Serina planned a date for us.”

“How could you cheat on me?”

You stood there, shocked, feeling all the anger that Cale was feeling and more. “What the fuck are you talking about? We aren’t together. You’ve made that very clear to me.” 

“We are together. We’re seeing each other,” he tried to defend himself. 

“Really?” you scoffed. “Because last time we even talked about what we are to each other, all we could say was that we liked each other. That was months ago Cale, and all we’ve done is had random hook ups here and there, getting together when you want to, talking to each other when you have the time. If you wanted to be with me, you would have taken me on a date like Nate did fucking ages ago.” 

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair? No, Cale, what’s not fair is you leading me on all this time.” 

It was apparently Cale’s turn to scoff, turning his head so he wasn’t even looking at you as he rolled his eyes. “Leading you on?”

“Yeah,” you practically screamed back at him. “You tell me you like me, and then you do nothing to show it. You take me to that random fucking diner and refuse to call it a date, you never take me anywhere, and what about the time when you told me I should fly to Boston to be there for the game on a moments notice? You act like you care about me when it seems convenient for you.” 

“What about you?” he spit back, “We both agreed that this would never be serious, so sorry if I kept my promise.” 

“Get out,” you yelled. You felt tears coming on, and the last thing you were going to do was cry in front of him. 

“I,” he started, taking a step towards you. 

You jerk back, startling Cale in the process. “Get out of my fucking apartment,” you yell again, Cale storming off before you can process what even really happened. You plop yourself on the couch, the shock of whatever that fight was hitting you like a tsunami, letting out a violent sob that your neighbors could probably hear. 

That couple looked so happy. God, it made you sick. 

You pay your tab without eating the food, your appetite leaving you just as fast as you got out of the building. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t recognized all the blue in that building. Cale had taken you on that route who knows how many times before. 

The rest of your drive passes without you actually paying attention. You felt like you were on autopilot even though you were driving somewhere you had never been before. 

The resort your mom had told you about was beautiful, the king bed once you got into your room calling your name. You flopped down on the soft mattress, finally letting out a breath as you felt all your worries melting away. You throw your phone in your bag, hoping that was enough for you to not think about it as you just laid there and relaxed.

Cale had just texted you that he didn’t think what you had could go any further, especially after the fight the two of you had. The worst part? You didn’t care. 

What you did care about was that he had told you by telling you that you weren’t the only person he was seeing. He told you maliciously, as if that was an out for him. You two weren’t serious, it was never meant to be serious after all, just like your friends had said it wouldn’t be. 

You hated yourself for thinking they were all wrong. 

“What are you thinking about?” Serina asked you, pulling you away from the texts that you were rereading for what had to be the hundredth time from Cale. 

“Men fucking suck.” 

“Hey, you found a good one, though.”

You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your sadness from earlier in the day draining your energy more than you thought it would. You only woke up because you heard knocking at your door. 

You groggily shuffle to the door, opening it without checking through the peephole even though you probably should have. 

“Nate?” 

Before saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug, a sigh of relief coming out as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m fine with you needing to get away for any reason, but next time can you tell me you’re going instead of me having to find out from your mom?” 

“Sorry,” you mumble against his chest, his smell instantly calming you. 

He pulls you into your room, a bag you didn’t notice before dragging behind him. “I’ll leave if you want me to, if you really need to be alone.”

“No,” you say, plopping down on the bed, Nate following suit, “I’m fine with you being here. I like that you’re here.” 

He pulls you close again, his arm around your waist. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” You stay silent. Nate knew you better than anyone, so he had to know what happened. “You saw Cale’s post.” 

You hated that a stupid Instagram post from Cale still had this much power over you. There was no reason why him getting engaged should crush you when you had been dating Nate for almost two years. 

Nate sits silent after you nod, trying to figure out what to say. “He really did a number on you, huh?” You nod, not sure where to even begin with your words. “What does that mean for us?”

“I don’t know.” 

[visceravalentines]

Security Blanket

This doesn't even almost do it justice, but this post by @skylarsblue and this piece by @minilev made me feel some type of way so I tried to spin up the scene in my head real fast.

900 words. Emotional hurt/comfort. Description of night terrors and panic attacks and thoughts of self-harm.

He wakes up in the kitchen this time.  Standing barefoot in the middle of the floor, soaked to the bone with sweat, chest heaving like he just outran the devil. 

His brain knows where he is but his body doesn’t and the dark room is spinning around him and he staggers to the sink like he’s drunk and about to throw up, and he might throw up, but he’s stone cold sober. 

He slumps against the edge of the countertop and waits for it to pass.  For it all to pass.  For his skin to stop crawling, the stinging in his eyes to go away.  For the echo of her screeching to fade back into memory. 

He listens intently to the silence of the house as the ringing in his ears diminishes.  If he was screaming, he’ll hear Vincent scrabbling up the stairs to make sure he hasn’t found a knife or something.  Something his subconscious knows how to use.  Minutes pass, or maybe seconds.  Vincent doesn’t appear. 

The tension won’t leave his body for hours, but he wishes it would.  He can’t unclench his jaw and his shoulders are hunched like he’s waiting for a blow.  The veins in his arms are bulging beneath the skin, knuckles white. 

His wrists fucking itch. 

When at last his mind clears enough to let him peel his fingers off the edge of the sink, lets him dig his nails into his skin instead, he turns to face the house.  He tries inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth even though that has never worked.  He tries reciting things he’s sure of in his head, but every time he gets to his name he hears it in her voice.  He starts to spiral. 

It’s a funny thing, to know your fear is unfounded and be trapped in the throes of it anyway.  He can’t catch his breath.  He’s lightheaded.  He feels watched.  One time he swears he saw her, standing just around the corner, peering at him with beady eyes like pinpricks in the darkness.  The memory triggers a visceral reaction and he doubles over like he’s been kicked; he can’t do that again, he can’t, it'll end him; he is sinking to the floor and burying his face in his arms. 

His wrists fucking itch. 

He’s panting, mind racing, muscles howling.  He’s scratching and he can’t stop.  If he looks up, she’ll be there, he knows it, he can sense it.  He can feel her staring at him.  He’s three years old, he’s five years old, he’s twelve, he’s seventeen, and he’s scared, and she’s so angry.  She’s everywhere, fucking everywhere, can’t stay dead, can’t stay away, and there’s just one thing she hates more than she hates him and he remembers and it takes everything he has to lick his dry lips and muster up a quavering whistle.  It barely carries in the choke of the darkness.

Moments later the sound of a thump on the stairs and nails skittering on wood pulls a strangled sob from the constriction of his throat.  There’s a cheerful jingle jingle and then the snuff of a damp nose on his forearm, and then a very warm, very wet tongue is lapping at the marks in his skin. 

His mother loathed dogs.  As a kid, a puppy was all he wanted.  As an adult, he couldn’t make sense of why you’d want another mouth to feed.  An endless supply of messes to clean up.  But he never could say no to Lester. 

And now on the floor in the dark, he grabs that mongrel like she’s the last living thing on earth besides him and pulls her to his chest, and she lets him because she’s a good dog.  She laps awkwardly at his face before she settles and sighs and he almost starts crying.  She allows him to squeeze her for many long minutes, her baleful eyes sweeping over the benign expanse of the kitchen, keeping watch for ghosts while he struggles to catch his breath. 

They sit on the floor for the better part of an hour. 

He lets go of her slowly when the paralysis starts to fade, and she stands up and shakes herself before turning back and nudging his hand so he knows she hasn’t left him.  It takes him a long time to stand up, and she watches him closely.  When he finally shuffles out of the kitchen, she is on his heels, waiting for her moment. 

The stairs are insurmountable.  He collapses on the couch.  The poor, mutilated thing barely has any stuffing left and he sinks into the familiar hole worn into the cushions, exhausted body and soul.  He lifts his hand to pat his lap and she’s already up, already stepping gingerly across his legs, shooting him apologetic glances as she turns around twice out of obligation and then sprawls across his middle. 

He exhales with finality.  His muscles are twitching with exertion.  The weight of her on his ribs grounds him in his body in this time, this place.  He is not three, or five, or twelve, or seventeen.  His mother is dead.  He has a dog. 

She’s warm under his hand, her fur coarse and dusty.  She stinks like roadkill and the reek of her breath clings to his hands and arms.  She huffs and lays her head on her paws and he gives her silky ear a flop.  His breathing is level.  He unclenches his jaw. 

“Good girl,” he mumbles as his eyes slip closed.  He doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall back asleep, but he does, quickly, and his dreams are painless. 

The dog sleeps too.  

[ccieatchildren]

TW: Branding Iron

Whumpee squeezed her eyes shut, already regretting her decision as she felt the heat from the prod warm her skin. Maybe her hand wasn’t the best candidate for the guild mark. Sure, joining them was like a dream come true, and the idea of proudly marking her as a member seemed cool at first, but now, when actually faced with the burning hot iron centimeters from her hand, she felt less inclined. God, it’s going to hurt so much isn’t it. She couldn’t do this. Whumpee snatched her hand away from on the table, cradling it to her chest.

“It’s okay sweetie, I promise it only hurts for a minute.”

Whumpee cracked her eyes open to stare at the person, the beauty, in front of her, the one who held her fate. She smiled at her. “I was scared too when I first got my mark,” the woman pulled up the left side of her dress, showing off her thigh. There, marked in white, was the guild’s emblem. “It hurt, but we have a few nice healing wizards to help subdue some of the pain and make sure it heals correctly.”

She dropped her skirt back down before coaxing Whumpee to put her hand back on the table. “We’ve all gone through it, and no one regrets it, I promise it will be okay.” 

Whumpee hesitated, looking into the woman’s eyes, only to find kindness and warmth. She was sure then that the woman wouldn’t do anything to willingly make her experience worse.

“… Okay… Thanks.”

She clapped her hands together and turned behind her to grab a tray filled with various different colored powders. “Now, what color would you like?”

The young mage stared at the plethora of shades in front of her, mulling over her choice while trying to ignore the way the temperature seemed to increase around her. 

“Pink.”

“Good choice! It’ll look so pretty on your skin, I just know it!”

Whumpee nodded absentmindedly, the fear crawling up her throat once again despite the woman’s reassurances. 

She watched as the barmaid cleaned and disinfected her skin, slathering a thick gel over the surface in preparation. Powder was dusted thoroughly onto the back of her right hand, the color reminding her of her favorite eraser. Whumpee let the reminder of her writing cloud her thoughts, focussing on what the plot of the next chapter of her novel would be rather than the imminent pain in front of her.

“Okay, ready!” She patted Whumpee’s shoulder, “It’ll be fine”

“Now, I’m going to stamp it in three… two… one-”

A short scream escaped her. All she could feel was searing hot pain on her hand, and her instincts tried to pull it away from whatever was hurting her, but another arm kept it in place. She could faintly smell the scent of her own burning skin, her body dry heaving in response.

It hurts so much, make it stop!

However, before she could start full-on sobbing, a warmth spread throughout her whole body, centering on her hand. The pain ebbed away, leaving only a numb tingly feeling in its wake. Her fear and agony replaced with bubbly elation. 

The stamp was taken away from her skin, and the woman across from her brushed off the remaining pink powder, leaving only the, now prominent, pink guild mark.

“There! Now you’re an official member of the guild!”

The barmaid brushed off the few remaining tears on her cheeks, “see it was only for a few short moments. You’re feeling all better already!” She pushed a strawberry milkshake towards her, when she had the time to make it, Whumpee wasn’t sure. “Here, on the house, for being such a good sport and as a welcome to the guild!”

She looked down at the mark, a permanent reminder of her new family. One that would have her back always, one that wouldn’t abandon her this time. Whumpee couldn’t help the smile that spread on her face and her squeal.

“Thank you!”

[merelywren]

Maybe Someday.

by : merelywren (mrflannery)

Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Summary:

Chrissy gets an unexpected visitor at the Munson trailer.

Work Count: 3426

————

It was a Saturday afternoon, and they were dancing on the front lawn.

Music was playing from the radio up on the porch, a compromise of soft classic rock. Wayne sitting in his chair catching up on yesterdays news paper while Eddie and Chrissy were hanging up the laundry to dry, shufflling their feet from side to side, twisting hips and laughing at how uncoordinated they both were. Yet, they didn’t mind. It was easy for them to be silly, to laugh, to poke fun at the other. Eddie grabbing Chrissy’s hand as she reached for another shirt in the laundry hamper, twirling her around once and letting her go in a spin as he caught the shirt that dropped, throwing it carelessly up and onto the line.

Her smile was wide as she shook her head and fixed the shirt to lay it smooth, throwing a kick to his backside and laughing at this failed attempt to dodge her. He was shirtless and wild, his tattoos standing out proud on is untanned skin.

Their feet were bare and staining green from the grass, but it was okay. Here, Chrissy could be careless. She could be shoeless, she could be dirty and unkempt. She could wear her hair in a messy bun on top her head, she could wear the jean shorts that her mother hated, and one of Eddies old band tees and it wouldn’t matter. The Munson trailer was a place she found her freedom in, and the place she called home now.

“Hey kiddo,” Wayne called out to Chrissy. She looked up and he nodded his head behind her, a little frown on his face.

Chrissy looked back at the car that was slowing pulling up to the opposite end of the trailer to them.

“Dad?”

————

It was overcast, the chances of rain looking pretty high, the day Chrissy knocked on the Munson trailer door. She quickly wiped the wetness from her cheeks and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind one ear. She tightened her hand around the handle of her suitcase and resettled the strap of her duffle bag higher up on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her heart down.

But it was no use, for the moment that the door opened and she saw Eddie's face, her own began to crumble. She felt another hot tear make it’s way down her cheek and she dropped her chin, willing herself not to break completely.

But he said her name.

That same deep concern that she’s heard from him too many times, always knowing when something wasn’t right, when he could see that she wasn’t okay.

She closed her eyes and her chest heaved with a cry she just couldn’t keep in.

Eddie was there between one second and the next, his arms around her shoulders, hiding her away in his arms and he so quietly soothed her, his fingers from one hand digging into the hair at the back of her neck. Her own fingers went slack and she distantly heard her bags hit the ground at their feet. Her arms went weakly up to his back, her whole body shaking with her sobs. She was shattering, from all the tiny cracks that she had withstood for so many years. One final crack and it was too much.

"Hey, hey, Chrissy, shh, sweatheart. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Eddie was whispering to her, and it felt like a balm to every broken piece of her. The pain was still there, and she knew it would be there for a long time, but just the presence of him, the feel of him…it took the fear away. She was able to grieve without the sick gnawing grip of fear.

She had felt that grip the entire walk to his home. The unknown of his reaction to her showing up unannounced at 9 at night on a Tuesday. As that fear slipped from her like a sheet to the ground, she knew that it was unfounded. He would always welcome her, she was silly to forget that. Pain is a greedy thing; it hides away all the good so that all that is left is the pain. It casts up shadows where there should be none and creates doubt in the things that should never be doubted.

Like Eddie's care for her.

It has no shadows, it has no hard edges. It’s pure and smooth and wonderful, and it has been fresh air to her suffocated and damaged lungs.

He let her cry herself dry, till there was just small hiccups breaking up the quiet air. Eddie was swaying them slightly from side to side, his arms never loosing their grip. Chrissy pressed her forehead to the center of his chest as she took a deep, cleansing breath.

Eddie finally pulled back just far enough so that he could put his hands on her face, checking her over for any visible sign of hurt.

“You need to tell me what happened, whose legs do I need to break?” Eddie asked and it made Chrissy laugh. It was a joke she knew, but the look on his face said that the feeling behind it wasn’t entirely a lie.

She sobered quickly though when she thought about the answer.

“She finally kicked me out, Eddie,” she said. That was really all she needed to say. Eddie knew the rest of the story. He’d been there for all of it.

After Eddie found her in the Upside Down, after almost dying to Vecna, Chrissy’s life took a whole new shape in front of her. Going through hell and coming out on the other side and knowing that the only reason she had been drug there to begin with was because of her mother, and everything she had been putting her through her whole high-school life; she wanted it to end. The iron clad control she had over Chrissy, it was going to end.

Vecna had saw it all, fed off of it, and it had almost killed her. And for the first time Chrissy was ready to say no. She was ready to look her mother, her very own living breathing demon, in the eye and say no.

She’s done diminishing herself to please her un-pleasable mother. She’s done starving, she’s done being walked on, she’s done taking less in every facet of her life just so others can have more.

Jason was the first thing she purged.

Once back on solid ground, the others had told her what had been going on. Lucas had explain in full detail how Jason had lost his mind, and the whole town with him. Believing in his witch hunt for Eddie and ready to kill at first sight. It had turned her stomach in a rotten way, and more so when she realized she wasn’t as shocked as she probably should have been.

Chrissy hadn’t let go of Eddie since he found her tied up in the twisted version of the Creel house. His hands were gentle and his voice almost reverent since he first saw her there.

After Vecna had gotten into Nancy’s mind, she had told the group that he had shown her his plan, that the three taken were still alive. Eddie didn’t really believe her until he had seen Chrissy with his own eyes.

She can still feel the almost desperate and raw relief she had felt at seeing Eddie’s face, can still feel the burning tears on her face as she called out to him as he pulled her away from the creeping vines that had held her tight for what felt like years. How he held her so close and cried with her. Her heart had felt tied to him in that moment and it hadn’t changed since.

There was no going back to the life she had before that.

After every pain staking moment and decision and life saving testimony from the three that were taken to clear Eddie’s name, the whole town felt different. She could see people’s true colors now. See how bias so many people were, how quick they were to point fingers at the less fortunate, the weird.

Jason was the first straw that broke her tie to her mother.

And then stepping down as head cheerleader.

Every action she took sent her mother into an abusive spin. Demanding she be obeyed, that Chrissy take back Jason, that she tell the coach she wasn’t thinking straight when she stepped down. To apologize and grovel before her for her outrageous behaviour.

But Chrissy wouldn’t do it. Not any of it.

So she was punished, stowed away in her room, and left without meals. Met with nothing but iciness from her mother and a guilty look from her father. He never came to her rescue, he never spoke up, never dared go against his wife and it did nothing but leave a bitter taste in Chissy's mouth.

She was always left to fend for herself in the face of her mothers vileness. She was done with that too. She confronted her father once, shortly before her final exit of the house.

Chrissy wanted to know how he could stand by and watch as she nearly withered away.

He couldn’t really answer her, and Chrissy felt like that hurt her the most.

He didn’t come to find her when she was kicked out. Didn’t stop her as the door closed at her back.

She lost both of her parents that night.

————

Chrissy was frozen to the spot, feeling helpless as she watched her dad get out of the car, his eyes sweeping quickly over the scene and never quite landing on her. This was the first time she saw him in weeks. The last time from across the street as her and Eddie were driving to school. He’d seen her then, his face shocked and then sad before Chrissy turned away, not wanting to see it.

And now here he was. Standing on the lawn of the place she called home.

Chrissy lost all thought, couldn’t think of a single word. Everything just went blank. She was distantly aware of the music fading away, and she felt a brush at her back left shoulder and knew that it was Eddie.

Tom closed the drivers door quietly and made his way to Chrissy. She had a moment of terror at the thought of her mother climbing out of the passengers side, but she never appeared.

Her father put his hands in his pockets as he came to a stop a distance from her. Wayne stood from his chair and spoke up.

“This okay?” he asked and Chrissy didn’t know how to answer. It really wasn’t okay. She wasn’t prepared for this, she never pictured him here, never hoped for him to reach out.

Chrissy felt her mouth open on instinct but no sound came.

Eddie stepped around her and stood just a hair in front of her to the side. She noticed he was now wearing a shirt, still damp from the wash.

“Was there something you needed?” he directed towards Tom. Not unkind but not inviting either.

Chrissy held her breath waiting for the answer.

He finally met her eyes. He had been carefully avoiding her gaze, sweeping over the trailer, the laundry, the men at her back. But now his eyes settled on her and Chrissy`s own stung from the horrible tears that threatened.

He took a deep breath and finally said, “I thought…that we could talk.”

We never talk, Chrissy’s mind spoke up.

She looked over at Eddie and then Wayne. Their visible support was so clear to her, the tone just their posture gave off. She had no reason to fear her father and his presence. The Munson's were there for her.

“You go on inside. We need to finish up the laundry out here anyways,” Wayne said softly and with a side-eye to Tom. “You just holler if you need anything.” A clear warning to Tom that his visit could be cut short in a second.

Chrissy nodded, feeling almost numb as she took a step towards the trailer door. Eddie grabbed her hand before she got too far, facing her head on and looking at her with a tilted down head. He was asking if she was okay, she could see it painted on his face.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered to him, not feeling the words at all, but wanting to reassure him anyways.

“Okay,” he whispered back, concern in his eyes, clearly not believing her but letting her make the decision. He always lets her make the decision. He never chooses for her, he never assumes. That’s what she loves about him, how truly free he makes her feel. She's never been free before.

Chrissy squeezed his hand once and turned back around with a tiny speck of confidence that wasn’t there before. This is my choice, she thought.

She went up the steps and into the trailer, hearing her father behind, and the soft click shut of the door. She went to stand by the table, crossing her arms in comfort and turning to look at him.

Tom was looking around in clear wonder. The living-room with fishing magazines on the coffee table mixed in with homework. The kitchen table with three placemats, and the clean counter tops that she insists remain that way. She needles Eddie when she catches him leaving dishes there.

The room smelled of the fresh laundry from that morning.

She wonders if her father can see the difference between this place and her family home. If he can feel how different it is here; happy and safe and so much better. She would choose this tiny trailer over and over again given the choice.

Chrissy waited.

Looking at her father here in her space, in the place that was so freely given to her in safety, added to that small confidence that was now growing the longer she looked at him. This was hers and no one could take it away except the two men that gave it to her in the first place and she knew without any doubt that they never would.

Not like her mother did. Not like her father, who stood and watched it happen.

Chrissy stood taller as her father looked back at her.

“So, this is…this is where you live?” he asked, sweeping his gaze around the room before coming back to her.

Chrissy took a calming breath and found her voice again. “Yes,” she said. She wasn’t giving him more than what he asks for. Why would she?

Tom nodded his head and put his hands back in his pockets, looking to the floor and back up again. “And, you’re okay here? With, with them?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

Chrissy frowned. Could he really ask that? Could he really care after all this time?

“Are you asking if I’m safe?” Chrissy retorted. “After what, almost two months of me being gone? You ask that now?”

The sick feeling was back in her stomach. She hadn’t missed it one bit, but it was there again. Just like when she was back in the home he shared with her mother. Where nothing felt right, and it was always a struggle just to get through a day. She didn’t want this, this feeling wasn’t welcome here. This was her safety and sickness had no place here.

“Why are you here?” she asked. She didn’t think holding her tongue would work anymore. She wanted this to be over.

Tom looked almost confused at her questioning, at her brash reply to him. “I wanted to see you, Chrissy. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I wasn’t even sure where you were, I had to ask around about that boy out there.”

That boy.

Chrissy’s heart was pounding now and she desperately pushed down the sick in her throat. “That boy saved my life. That boy took me in when my own parents kicked me out,” she raised her voice.

“Your mother,” her father tried to say.

“No. Don’t finish that sentence. Mother may have said the words, but you stood there and watched it happen, you let her say it and you watched me walk out that door. You’re my dad,” she cried. “You’re suppose to keep me safe, you’re suppose to be there!” Chrissy said, her breath coming quicker with every second. These are the things she has been tucking away inside of her for years. These hidden things that could never be said. But she’s not that girl anymore. She not under anyone’s thumb anymore.

"You were never there for me. And you come here? After months and dare to question Wayne? And Eddie?” She wiped her cheek, not even realizing she had started crying till she felt it at her chin. “I came here after I was kicked out and they took me in. They made sure I was okay. They gave up part of their space and life so that I could be here! And they’ve never complained, they’ve never made me feel unwelcome and wrong.”

The memory of her first night there shot across her mind; how Eddie had brought her inside, tucking her under his arm, how Wayne immediately asked what was wrong. How he went and tried to make her tea before realizing that they didn’t have any and apologizing for it. She had smiled through her tears and said that it was alright. He got her a glass of water instead and it was the nicest thing he could have done for her in that moment. She cradled that glass in her hands like it was something to treasure.

She couldn’t remember the last time her own father did something like that for her.

Tom rubbed at his mouth, one hand going to his hip as he turned away from her. “Chrissy,” he tried after a minute. “I wanted to try to bring you home,” he said quietly, looking at her again, his eyes glossy.

Chrissy shook her head. She felt sorry for him in that moment, with how lost he looked.

“I am home,” she stated firmly. “I never want to go back to that house again, dad. I never want to feel the way I did every single day of my life, like I did in that house.”

Tom was shaking his head in a sad way, his eyes shut. “Chrissy,” he said, “honey, I’m…” But he couldn’t even finish. There were tears on his face now, and Chrissy wished that she could hug him. But that wasn’t the world they lived in. The relationship she had with her father was just as broken as the one with her mother, just in a different way. Maybe someday, she thought. A lot of things would have to be different…but maybe.

Maybe someday he’ll be able to say it. Maybe someday she’ll be able to believe it. It just wasn’t today.

Chrissy sighed, and lowered her arms to her sides. She really looked at he father then. Took in the defeated stance, the deep lines of sorrow on his face, and the ruffled lay of his hair.

Hopefully someday, she thought.

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” she said softly, not unkind.

He nodded, still looking down. She let him take a moment to gather himself again, straighten and clear his face.

“Can I come see you again? If that’s alright,” he asked in earnest.

Chrissy thought about it, and nodded. “Maybe. It’d be best if you called first,” she replied, setting a boundary.

“I can do that,” he said, nodding and trying to smile. He didn’t quite make it.

Chrissy walked around him and opened up the door. Still barefoot, she walked down the steps to the grass and waited for her father to follow. He made his way back to his car and opened the door. Looking back at her he asked, “The number?”

Chrissy looked over her shoulder to where Eddie and Wayne were trying to look like they weren’t paying attention, and smiled.

The sick feeling was gone, and the warmth in her chest was back. Family, her mind whispered.

“It’s in the phonebook,” she said back to her father, still looking at the two fiddling with laundry. If her father wanted to be in her life, he would have to work for it.

“It's under Munson.”

My family.

[rosemaryreaper]

Minutemen Danse and Haylen? Sure, definitely.

But at what cost?

At what cost…

(Slightly spoilery WIP sneaky peak. Content warning for a panic attack and brief emetophobia.)

* * * *

That was all it took: the last metaphorical blow against the fractured wall of the dam. All at once, the weight of the world came crashing down.

Then Haylen was on her knees, dry heaving into the grass. Something touched her back, and she took a swing at it. But then the world wobbled—or maybe just her—and she made a noise like a dying animal and threw up for real. Her body spasmed, the bile hot in her throat and bitter on her tongue. The something grabbed her again and pulled her onto her backside and dragged a cloth against her mouth, all while she was saying, “No, no, no, no,” but her mouth wasn’t quite making those sounds, so she kicked and thrashed and punched until the something released her and she flopped onto her back on the ground.

A million miles underwater, a voice was saying, “Breathe. Haylen, sweetheart, breathe,” which was stupid because her chest was constricting tight enough to squeeze all her organs up into her head and out her ears. Or maybe she would vomit them up as one big bloody mess. She didn’t care which happened as long as one of them made it stop.

Which was also stupid because she knew what was happening. She’d seen it in the knights who woke up screaming, the initiates whose hands shook too hard to hold their guns, the paladins who begged her through tears not to tell—not to fill out that damn report. She’d stayed with them all—talked down the ones she could, sedated the ones she couldn’t. She’d held their hand if they’d needed it. And she’d filled out that damn report: unfit for duty. Usually temporarily. Sometimes permanently. It had been a kindness.

Like a bullet between the eyes of a wounded doe.

She was sobbing. It took her a while to recognize the sound. Even longer to recognize it as coming from her. Still a million miles away, Delaney kept repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay,” which was so untrue Haylen wanted to take a swing at her again. She was not okay. She was not okay.

Something cold and wet snuffled against her hand. She flinched when the sensation turned slimy, dragging along her skin.

A warm weight settled over Haylen’s pathetic shuddering, sobbing body, draping from her thighs across to her shoulder. It put a pressure on her tight chest that made it harder to shudder and sob. A different heart beat over her own. A different breath heaved at a different time. She wrapped her arms around the weight; ran her fingers through its fur. Dogmeat’s heavy sigh brushed her cheek as he wiggled comfortably into place.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she came back to herself—before she felt the prickle of the grass beneath her head or the chill of the breeze on her wet face. She didn’t know when her body returned to a form vaguely reminiscent of solid, no longer in danger of unraveling like the entrails of some poor gutted creature. It was around the same time her ears came up from the water to hear Delaney’s attempts at soft, soothing sounds, which embarrassed Haylen as much as they helped. However much time had passed, it couldn’t have been quick.

The change must’ve been visible, because Delaney eventually concluded Haylen was coherent enough to speak—or at least listen without throwing a punch. As gently as possible, the General said, “I’m going to get Danse.”

Haylen made a noise in her throat that threatened the immediate return of hysterics. “Danse hates me.”

“No. No, honey, he would never.”

“He does. You didn’t hear him. I destroyed everything.” She resumed crying. Or maybe she had never stopped. It didn’t particularly matter.

“No,” Delaney said. “He was upset. He doesn’t hate you. He loves you too much to even consider it.”

“No, no.”

“Yes. You’re practically his little sister. Nick had to hold him back from charging before the firing squad himself to save you. The worst you did was scare him half to death, and that wasn’t your fault.”

Haylen was too busy sniffling to reply. Dogmeat licked her cheek, which was gross. She hugged him tighter.

Delaney continued, “Danse has a lot going on. Not all of it has to do with you. I’d wager most of it doesn’t. He’s been alone in that bunker two years now. We’ve given him time, we’ve given him space. He’s had more than enough. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, I swear I’ll march in there and drag him out—by the crotch of his power armor if I have to. I’m his friend, but you’re his team. There’s a lot both of you need to process, and you’ll do it better together.”

Haylen took a shaky breath. She was afraid to move. Afraid to close her eyes. Afraid to sleep. But most of all— “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Delaney said. “I’m going to make sure of it. As soon as you feel well enough to stand, we’re going to see Curie, all right? She’ll look after you while I get Danse—same as she looks after me or Ros or Cait. All right?”

The implication was almost more terrifying than the predicament. But it was the “almost” that made Haylen whisper, “All right.”

Delaney exhaled in relief, and Haylen knew she had noticed the “almost” too. “We’ll make this better, honey. I know I can’t fix it. I know I owe you more than I can ever repay, and I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. We’re going to make this better, I promise.”

Haylen didn’t have a response to this, since she very much wanted to stop crying now. So, she held Dogmeat and breathed until she felt brave enough to sit up without falling right back down. With time, sitting led to standing. Standing, eventually, led to walking, if unsteadily. Delaney wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her up. Dogmeat stayed glued to her leg.

With more time, they stumbled their way to the clinic. Too focused on moving one heavy foot in front of the other, Haylen lost track of the minutes again. She didn’t care to pay attention to much of anything until walking and standing led back to sitting, and suddenly there was a hospital bed beneath her. She blinked at Delaney, who had somehow let go of her, and at Curie, who had somehow materialized to wipe her face with a cloth. The phrase “panic attack” got said. Haylen tuned the rest out. It wasn’t that she was underwater anymore; she was just too damn tired to translate the sounds into comprehension. More accurately, the “almost” made her too scared to.

A pill capsule got placed in her palm. She accepted the accompanying water automatically. She knew this part. She was used to being on the other side of it.

She downed the pill with the water. Fingers traced the hair alongside her ear. Arms lowered her onto the bed. She still didn’t want to close her eyes.

She didn’t have a choice. Down she went, like a bullet to the head.

It was a kindness.

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

Okay, I've got a request. An angst filled Captain (who is also Y/N from Heist and DA from WKM) who is very distraught about not being able to share everything they've been through before the Invincible II with the Engineer because they are afraid to confide in him, because they suspect that this is yet another role of the Actor and they have no idea who to trust. What will come out of this premise is up to you!

omg anon i LOVE the way you think! hehehehe i had fun with this one, definitely came easier to me than fluff lmao

Enjoy!

TW: panic attack, unreliable narrator

----------------

The Captain sat forward in their chair. Their hands were splayed on their desk. Mark stood at the room’s door with his arms crossed and a leg over the other. He looked smug. What else was new?

“A toast?”

“Yeah! We’re on day 241 since the last reset.” Mark smirked as he offered the Captain a glass of red wine. “I counted.”

“Evidently,” said the Captain. They graciously accepted the glass and opened their visor, revealing their face. They had a relaxed smile. “What a life.”

“Well, life is for the living, eh?” Mark said, grinning.

What?

Distantly, something crashed. Maybe fell. 

No. That smile. It’s uncanny. No no no no no no no no no no

“Hey-- Captain? What’s wrong?” 

He can’t be back. He can’t he can’t he can’t

“Captain?”

Why? WHy is he here

“Captain--”

He killed me. He did this he did this he did this it’s all his fault he did this

“Captain!” 

The Captain gasped. They brought a hand up to their chest and could feel their lungs heaving in the sterile air. The walls were cold. Too cold. It felt almost suffocating --- this suit felt suffocating. A suit? A formal suit. One for a party or a business conference or a date or a judicial proceeding--- no, a space suit. With a helmet and everything. Space suit. Helmet? Close it. Done. Check. 

Mark was crouched in front of them. He started to reach out to the Captain but stopped. “Captain, is it okay if I touch you?”

The Captain shook their head.

“Okay. Well-- yeah, that’s okay.” Mark sat down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Another head shake. No. 

Mark nodded and eventually, as he sat and waited, the Captain’s breathing slowed down enough

“Where--” Their throat felt dry. “Where did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Mark!” the Captain yelled. They banged their face on the metal walls. Mark looked concerned. Then, after a deep breath, in a quieter voice, they said, “...the saying.”

“Life is for--?”

The Captain nodded solemnly.

Mark scratched his head. “I dunno. I think I heard it in some video on the holonet once. I thought it sounded cool. Real poetic.”

Narcissistic bastard--

……

if this is really him. 

“Captain, do you mind me asking why?”

Tell him. He’s your friend. “It’s nothing. I just needed to… ground myself.” 

Not a friend?

Mark looked like he had something to say but the Captain started to get up and he moved quickly to support them. The Captain jolted. Hesitantly, they accepted the help. Mark helped them move to their desk chair. But then his hands grabbed at the Captain’s helmet, mere inches from their visor, and their arms reflexively stopped him, gripping his wrists harshly. 

“What are you doing?” Fear laced the Captain’s voice.

“Removing your helmet? You sounded like you hit the wall really hard and--”

“Who gave you permission to do so, Head Engineer?”

“But. We’re old friends. You’ve said this is okay before--”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Mark gaped. He took a step back and tightened his hands behind his back, maybe rubbing at his wrists while he was at it. He looked small. “Apologies, Captain. Permission to leave?”

“Granted.”

As soon as Mark left, the Captain turned off the lights. In the comfort and anonymity of the darkness, they struggled to stifle a sob.

[heydorothea009]

Bread on Toast 2162 - A Future Man s2 Fanfiction

After saving the world from the Biotics, Josh and Liv are catapulted into Tiger and Wolf’s time, 2162. The gang is separated from each other and contention begins to brew. Tiger and Liv find themselves face to face with an old “friend”, while Wolf gets caught in being someone he’s not, and Josh’s life is on the line. Things can’t possibly get any worse.

Warnings: strong language

Chapter 2: The I of the Tiger

“SHIIIIIT!!” Tiger shrieked as she felt herself falling through the air. Wolf and Liv didn’t scream like her, just clinging to her. They couldn’t breathe from the DMC gas. Their fall was broken by some shallow water, Tiger wasn’t sure where it came from, but that was something she would worry about later. She forced Liv and Wolf’s weak bodies to come up for air with her. Wolf and Liv both gagged and started coughing up water.

“How did we…?” Wolf dry heaved. Liv spat out a shit load of water, hacking and coughing. Tiger realized she should probably be coughing too, not just spitting out water.

She fake coughed. “Get outta there?” She pretended to splutter. “I dunno, mind fuck.” She helped Liv and Wolf up. Liv opened her eyes, looking around frantically.

“Where the fuck are we?” She asked in a rough voice. Wolf struggled to open the TTD, but when he did, he almost dropped it in disbelief.

“2162.” He and Tiger said.

“We made it.” Tiger gripped onto Wolf’s shoulder.

“Twenty-“ Liv collapsed back into the water, knees giving out.

Tiger looked around at the water and realized the were in a shallow pool.

“‘This reflecting pool commemorates the innocent lives lost in the horrific Kronish Tower Terrorist Attack’.” Wolf read off of the monument right next to them. “Oh my God. We fucking did it.”

“We did.” Tiger’s face broke into a smile.

“We did it!” They both cheered, embracing and sobbing happily.

“Tiger, we did it!” Wolf squeezed her as tight as he could. “Liv! We-“ Liv sat in the water, gently crying and pulling her knees into her chest, looking frightened. “Tiger look,” Wolf pointed to Liv. “Liv’s just as happy as we are! We did it!” He splashed some water around excitedly. “So long Biotics, you only exist on a plaque now, that’s all that’s left of your filthy kind!” Wolf jeered.

Tiger paused. “Yeah! Not a…” she saw her reflection in the water. “…not a single one left. So, we don’t have to talk about them ever again.”

“Liv, you don’t have to keep happy crying,” Wolf said, looking down at Liv, who was still crying quietly, head in her hands as she stayed sitting in the water. “We’re done with that.”

Tiger looked at Liv. “Wolf, I don’t think she’s-“

Liv looked up at them with red eyes. “You took me with you. You weren’t supposed to do that.”

Tiger knelt in the water in front of her. “Liv-“

“You promised!” She choked. “You promised and you broke your promise-“

“Liv, Liv!” Tiger grabbed her shoulders. “You were going to die, I had to save you, I-“

“He did it, isn’t that what matters? The little guy did it and now Liv, you live here with us.” Wolf said.

Liv’s crying grew uncontrollable as she looked up at the sky and back to Tiger. “You have to take me back.”

“What?” Tiger shook her head. “We can’t do that Liv, I’m sorry-“

“I don’t want to be here.” She wailed.

“That sucks.” Wolf clambered out of the pool.

“Wolf!” Tiger hissed. “I’m going to…” she shuddered. “I’m going to give you a hug to make you feel better.” Liv stopped crying for a moment, hiccuping.

“The fuck?” She sniffled.

Tiger awkwardly pulled her into the worst possible hug. “There you go. Are you better now?” Tiger pulled away quickly and got out of the pool.

“No.” Liv shook her head. “You give terrible hugs, Tiger.”

Tiger rolled her eyes and turned away. “Liv, I’m sorry I took you away from 2017 and Josh, okay? I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually feel really horrible about it and you’re making me feel worse, ‘kay? And I really don’t like this feeling.”

Liv held her knees tighter as she stared down at the water. “Sorry.” She whispered.

“Josh was very brave.” Wolf said proudly. “His name should be on that plaque, not those perfs.”

“Easy fix.” Tiger pulled a knife from her belt, etching Josh’s name into the stone. Wolf got back into the pool and scooped Liv up. Tiger messily carved out “Josh Footerman”. Wolf gently set Liv on her feet, swiping at her tears.

“It’s okay Liv, you’re with me, you’re with us now.” Wolf muttered reassuringly.

“Hey Tiger,” Liv said, watching as Tiger finished her carving. “That’s not how you spell it.”

“Oh…yeah, I guess you’re right.” Tiger stepped back and studied it. “It’s been a few hundred years, I’ve already forgotten.”

Liv let out a long sigh and looked back up at the sky. The stars were somewhat comforting to her at least.

“I guess we should say somethin’.” Wolf said, clapping Tiger on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I mean he died for the cause.” Tiger stuck her knife back into her belt.

Died. Liv almost lost it again, but made herself keep it together.

“Liv, would you like to say a few words for your…Josh?” Wolf asked.

Liv sighed shakily. “You guys go first, I’m still trying to get my shit together.”

Tiger exhaled and shook her head, trying to think of something to say. “How do you eulogize a man like Josh?” Wolf shook his head mournfully, but said nothing. There was a pause as the three of them waited for someone else to speak first. Tiger and Wolf genuinely couldn’t think of a single thing, while Liv couldn’t say a single thing without crumpling to the ground and crying herself to death.

“…oh you were really asking?” Wolf said as Tiger stared at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you know public speaking’s not really my thing.” Tiger started. “It doesn’t even have to be a formal thing. Just something…nice.”

“Yeah, yeah, just keep it casual.” Wolf nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh, yeah.”

They looked over at Liv, still looking up at the sky and trying to hold back her oncoming meltdown.

Tiger awkwardly cleared her throat. “He…made a lot of kills.” She looked at Wolf and they nodded at each other. “Look at all those names…I mean…I did a good portion of them, but it-“ Tiger stopped as she tried to think of anything else to say. “Wolf? Anything to add?”

Wolf nodded, speaking in a slow, sentimental voice. “Though his worldly body was incarcerated and turned to ash, I take comfort in knowing that it has become one with the elements, aerating the soil and earth that we walk upon…” he bent down and grabbed a pinch of dirt. Liv looked over, seeing Wolf looking at her with soft eyes. He was trying to comfort her, but it wasn’t exactly working. “…blowing in the wind and the air that we breathe.” He gently blew the dirt from his fingers.

“Except for his cock, that’s still kicking around, huh?” Tiger looked down at Wolf’s crotch.

“Yep, the living embodiment of Josh hangs off me like a Medal of Honor.” Wolf said, patting his crotch. Liv looked back up at the sky, rolling her eyes. “Though it was once a cause of great shame, I will wear it with pride for the rest of my days.” Liv’s head snapped back in Wolf’s direction, a look of annoyance covering her face. “Like him, it’s small, but sufficient.” Tiger’s head slowly turned to look at Liv, giving each other the same look. “It packs the occasional wallop…” he just kept going. “Not as big of a wallop as my original rod- you’re welcome by the way, Liv. This one is adequate though.” He gave a solemn smile. “Just like Josh.”

Liv heaved out a heavy, irritated sigh. “Wolf, that was terrible-“

“And when I hold it in my hand it will be like I’m holding his hand across timelines.” Wolf grabbed his crotch gently.

“Alright, I think that’s good, Wolf.” Tiger stopped him. She looked back at Liv. “Would you like to finish us out on a better eulogy than the eulogy Wolf just gave for his incinerated cock?”

Liv let out another heavy sigh. “Josh was my best friend turned boyfriend, at least, he probably would have been my boyfriend if some people hadn’t taken me to their future.” Liv side eyed Tiger.

“I was saving your life.” Tiger said in a flat tone. “You should be thanking me.”

“I-“ she got choked up. Wolf hobbled over to her and wrapped her into a big bear hug. “I loved him.” She bawled. “I loved him so much and I don’t know if he heard me tell him I did.” Liv had yelled after Josh that she loved him after he climbed into the possum chute back at the Kronitorium. She couldn’t say anything else, she was a mess.

Wolf rubbed Liv’s back as she cried into his chest. Tiger looked around and shoved her hands in her pockets as Wolf stared her down. He wanted her to come and hug Liv too.

“Okay, you know what, fine.” Tiger grumbled as she sauntered over and wrapped her arms around both Wolf and Liv. “If it makes you feel better Liv, this future already looks a million times better than our other one.”

Liv lifted her head from Wolf’s chest and craned her neck to look at Tiger. “Really?” Her voice cracked.

“Yes, but we should get moving, check the rest of this place out. Everyone feeling good enough to walk?”

“I’m feeling much better now,” Wolf said, letting go of Liv. “You okay, Liv?”

Liv’s arm still ached from being shot by the Biotics, but she could walk just fine. “I guess,” she mumbled.

“Is it just me, or is it really hot for the middle of the night?” Tiger asked, fanning her face.

“Is that not normal?” Liv asked.

“Not for our 2162.” Wolf shrugged.

“Damn, it must be global warming.” Liv half heartedly joked.

“…what’s that?”

They walked for hours. It must have been close to noon based on how high the sun was and how hard the heat was blazing down on them.

“…so it was me, Bob Evans, Lou Wasserman…” Wolf was telling a story Tiger and Liv were only half listening to.

“Okay, okay,” Tiger held her hand out to catch Liv and Wolf’s attention. “We’re closing in on something.”

Liv lifted her head and squinted. The heat waves made it hard for her to see, and she was significantly shorter than both Tiger and Wolf, they must have had a better view. She could make out what looked like skeletons, strung over some sort of wall. They looked like Halloween decorations to Liv, but clearly meant something bad to Tiger and Wolf.

“What are those?” Liv asked, panting. Tiger and Wolf looked distressed, Liv's heart immediately sank. It was something really bad.

“No…it’s the Three Strung Corpses of Alamore.” Tiger shook her head.

“It’s the Death Fields.” Wolf muttered. “I thought- I thought we changed things.”

Liv’s heart was pounding harder than it already was. There’s no way that I just got sent to Tiger and Wolf’s hell hole future. Liv thought through her growing panic.

Tiger and Wolf stumbled forward, trying to get a closer look. Liv scampered after them. As they got closer Liv started to slow, getting a better look at the “skeletons”, realizing that wasn’t what they were at all.

“No wait! Guys, they kinda look like some sort of scarecrows.” Liv said. Tiger and Wolf cried out in relief, stopping underneath the scarecrows and staring up at them.

“What the fuck’s a scarecrow? Those are Frighten-Birds!” Wolf cried happily.

“That means there must be…” Tiger and Wolf looked at each other excitedly.

“Outdoor food!” They cheered together. Liv followed the two past the wall and into a field of giant crops, Liv thought they looked like cashews. Tiger reached out and touched one curiously.

“It’s a…bean.” Tiger examined it.

“And what a bean!” Wolf grinned and panted. He paused and raised an eyebrow. “Have we created a land of giants?” Tiger cut a slice off of a bean, Wolf reached out and caught it. Tiger and Liv leaned over it as he studied it. He gave it a sniff.

“Is it a bean?” Liv asked.

“Oh it’s a bean. I’m sensing hints of lima.” He plucked a chunk off and tasted it. “Pinto! …and kidney? Black-eyed…navy…” Wolf chewed and swallowed, deep in thought. “This is like all beans rolled into one.”

“Mega-bean.” Liv breathed out.

“From Death Fields to bean fields.” Tiger’s face broke into a grin as she surveyed the rolling field in front of them. “What a magical world.” The sound of children laughing caught her ear. “Do you hear that?” She peeked further into the field to see children running around and playing.

“Um, Tiger?” Liv’s eyes went wide as Wolf reached out and grabbed her arm, struggling breathe and started to keel over, hand pressed to his wound.

“Younglings!” Tiger exclaimed. “Fresh and undead!” She didn’t hear Liv.

“Tiger?” Liv said a little louder, grabbing onto Wolf’s arm. He was groaning and clutching at his wound even harder.

“I think they want to play hunter v hunted!” Tiger continued. Liv heard some of the kids scream and the sound of their feet hitting the ground. Wolf collapsed, making Liv scream herself.

“Tiger!”

Tiger spun around to see Wolf on the ground and Liv kneeling over him, eyes frantic. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, but I think it’s his wounds.” Liv tried to pull him up.

“Strays in the All-Bean field!” They could hear the kids screaming.

“Maybe if we follow these younglings, we can find help for Wolf.” Said Tiger, wrapping an arm around Wolf. Liv tried her best to help lift him, but Tiger ended up doing most of the work. They followed the cries of the children, finding two men standing just outside the field, guarding what looked like a small shack made from scrap metal.

“Excuse me!” Liv called to them. “We need help, our friend is hurt!” The men, who Liv realized were holding spears, pointed them and looked ready to charge. She froze.

“I got this.” Tiger muttered to her, adjusting her hold on Wolf and confidently making her way towards them. Together, Liv and Tiger gently laid Wolf on the ground.

“That’s no stray, that’s Torque!” One of the men said, coming over and bending down over Wolf.

“He’s got two GX239 hand cannon wounds,” Tiger said as the two guards picked Wolf’s unconscious body up and lugged him away. Another guard rounded the corner of the shack and approached Liv and Tiger. Liv backed away, getting the sense she was not welcome. Tiger continued. “He was hit shoulder, thigh, I was hit upper abdomen, and this is Liv, she’s with us, she was hit arm, and-“

The third guard blocked the entrance with his spear, glowering at them. Liv got the sense that she and Tiger weren’t welcome. Tiger’s eyes lit up with recognition at the sight of the guard.

“Weasel,” she exhaled. “Is that you?”

“Who are you calling Weasel?” The guard gruffed.

“That- that’s your name!” Tiger smiled.

“My name is Wrench.” The guard tightened his grip on his spear. “There’s no outsiders allowed in the NAG.”

Tiger shook her head. “It’s me, Tiger, I’m with Wolf, and Liv-“

“That’s Torque, I know him.” Wrench narrowed his eyes at both of them. “I don’t know either of you.” Liv gulped and looked up at Tiger, eyes wide. Tiger glanced down at Liv, a flash of fear in her eyes. “Maybe you’re helping him or maybe you’re the ones who gave him those injuries. Maybe you’re trying to use him for cover to sneak in and steal our beans. Is that your game?” Wrench barked.

“They Bio-Tech?” A guard from behind them asked roughly, making Liv and Tiger both whip their heads around.

“They sure smell like ones.” Wrench glared at them.

“We’ll know for sure after they take the sewer mushroom test.” The other guard walked around them, looking them up and down suspiciously. Tiger’s hand hit Liv’s arm. This definitely was not good.

“Your pants make brown, welcome to our town. Your pants stay dry, you’re gonna die.” Wrench pointed his spear at Tiger’s throat. Tiger’s hand grabbed Liv’s arm, signaling to her that they were going to make a run for it. Liv’s body tensed. “Go get the Bio-Tester, Anvil.” Wrench commanded the other guard, who ran inside. Tiger and Liv watched anxiously as Wolf’s unconscious body disappeared into the mysterious shack. Tiger looked over at Liv, the spear still pointed to her neck.

“It’s okay Liv,” Tiger said nonchalantly. “Just back up.” Tiger let go on her arm. Liv took a little step back. “Little further.” Liv did so, raising an eyebrow. “Little further-“

“What are you doing?” Wrench snapped. In a blur, Tiger had stolen Wrench’s spear, knocked him out, and stolen his cloak. Liv blinked and missed half of it. Her jaw hit the ground.

“Tiger-“

Tiger wrapped the cloak around her shoulders and tossed the spear to Liv. “Go.” Tiger whispered. Together, Tiger and Liv took off running away from whatever the NAG was, leaving Wolf behind, and leaving their hearts heavy.

“Tiger,” Liv panted. They’d been trekking for another hour or so. “Tiger, when can we stop?”

Tiger hadn’t spoken to Liv, nor explained to her why they had to flee so fast. She seemed to be wrapped up in her own thoughts.

“I don’t know.” Tiger sighed.

“Why couldn’t we stay at that place?” Liv asked. “I mean, yeah, they were going to make us eat those sewer mushrooms, but I’m getting the feeling that that’s not all…” Tiger zoned out as Liv talked. She debated with herself on whether she should just tell Liv. They seemed to be stuck with each other for the time being. She had the right to know.

“I’m a Biotic, Liv.” Tiger stated, interrupting Liv’s rambling. Liv froze.

“What?”

“I’m a Biotic, Liv. I don’t know how or why, but I am.” Tiger pulled the hood of the cloak over her head.

“What- so what the fuck does that mean?” Liv asked, panic apparent in her voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Have I killed you yet?” Tiger asked, walking slightly faster than Liv.

“…no?”

“Then no.”

“How do you know?” Liv asked, clutching the spear for dear life.

“I wasn’t affected by the DMC gas back in the Kronitorium.” Tiger explained dryly.

“So does that make you evil?” Liv asked.

“Considering I still feel like myself, I’m going to go with no.” Tiger said.

“So if you took that mushroom test they would have probably, like, stabbed you or something-“

“Shh!” Tiger held out a hand and stopped Liv in her tracks. “Do you hear that?” Liv fell silent.

“Come!” A child’s voice said in the distance. Liv looked up at Tiger. “Come- come- come- come!” The voice glitched.

Liv and Tiger cautiously walked to the top of a hill. Tiger snatched the spear from Liv’s grasp and held it defensively. “Out with you boy!” She yelled.

“Tiger, I don’t think it’s a person.” Liv said, keeping behind Tiger for protection, just in case.

“C-come!” They heard it again. At the top of the hill, they could see reflective light flashing over the next hill. As Tiger marched towards it, Liv groaned and trudged after her.

“Come one, come all to the great red planet MARS!” The voice stopped glitching. Tiger and Liv crested over the top of the hill, seeing a hologram of a young boy being projected into the sage brush. “Yep, it’s me, Lil Jimmy McGurgan!” Lil Jimmy McGurgan was an adorable little black boy with a big smile on his face. He waved around to no one.

“What is he doing?” Tiger muttered, glaring at the hologram as they walked closer.

“Earth is dying. Luck- lucky for us, the solar system gave us a spare planet right next door!” Jimmy McGurgan continued.

Liv squinted, trying to read the sign- no, billboard behind him. It was an ad. The billboard was sun bleached and faded.

“I’m gonna be the first boy on mars- ars!”

“What?” Tiger looked at Liv. They walked right up to the hologram so they could read the billboard better.

“But before I get there, we’ve all got some train- training to do. Mons hab units are open now, no Ethereum down!” Jimmy McGurgan said cheerfully.

Liv could finally make out what was on the sign. “‘The future of tomorrow begins today’.” Liv read outloud. “‘The Mons…mandatory relocation doesn’t have to be a drag…prime habitation units available for immediate move in’?” Liv looked up at Tiger with wide eyes.

“Come!” Jimmy McGurgan started over. “Come one, come all to the great red planet MARS!”

“We have to go there.” Tiger stated, marching forward.

“We do?” Liv scurried after Tiger as Jimmy McGurgan continued his advertisement.

“It can't be far.” Tiger said. And Tiger was right, they came up the side of the next mountain, and there it was. The Mons, whatever The Mons was.

“Huh,” Liv folded her arms as she and Tiger studied the organized span of domes from above. “They seem to be environmentally friendly.” She said, taking note of all of the solar panels.

“Hold this.” Tiger thrust the TTD at Liv. Liv furrowed her brows as she took it from her. Tiger never trusted anyone but her or Wolf with the TTD. Using the bottom of the spear, Tiger began to dig at the dirt and tried to make a hole.

“What are you doing?” Liv asked.

“Burying…” Tiger grunted, realizing that digging with the spear was harder than she expected it. “The TTD for safe keeping.” She’d dug more of a slot than a hole. “Good enough.” She held out her hand expectantly. “TTD.” She muttered. Liv handed it over.

“How will we remember where it is?” Liv asked as Tiger put the TTD in the slot and buried it.

“It’s by this sign.” Tiger nodded her head at a weathered sign that Liv couldn’t read. After burying the TTD, Tiger trudged down the mountain, Liv following after her.

They both quickly realized they didn’t fit in at all. The people of The Mons, or the Bio-Techs, all wore the same yellow, gray, and black fitted jumpsuit with some strange plastic and metal collars resting on their shoulders. They all walked in the same way, none of them unique, swinging their arms in time with each other and looking freakishly peppy. It was unsettling to say the least. Tiger stopped Liv in front of one of the dome buildings and yelled at a random citizen.

“You,” she called out. “Moon man,” the man Tiger was referring to, stopped and stared at them for a moment, face falling, and hurried away without saying anything. Tiger looked at Liv and pulled a face. “What a bunch of freaks.” She grumbled.

“I wonder what that place is.” Liv mumbled, nodding to the dome in front of them, slightly bigger than the others.

Tiger and Liv walked into the clean, white dome. It was shiny inside and had one of the mega-beans, as Liv had called it, suspended from the ceiling, held inside a halo of thin silver loops. Liv and Tiger’s ears pricked up as a light five note jingle played as they walked further inside.

“Hello, and welcome to The Mons!” A cheerful automated male voice greeted them. Tiger held her spear defensively at the ceiling. “I’m your automated guide, Cassin-E. How may I be of service to you?”

Liv held her hand out in front of Tiger. “Tiger, it’s okay, it’s just a voice, like Sigorn-E.” Liv whispered.

“I want answers, Cassin-E, and I want them now.” Tiger snapped up at the ceiling.

“Okey-dokey!” Cassin-E said enthusiastically. “What kind of answers? Commonly asked questions include, ‘what does it smell like on MARS?’ ‘Is it hot or cold on MARS?’ ‘Will I need a jacket on MARS?’”

As Cassin-E rambled, Liv wandered up three circular steps and looked up at the suspended bean. Tiger appeared behind Liv, curiously poking the bean with the spear.

“Were all these people in these bubble huts Bio-Techs?” Tiger asked, her voice still sounded accusatory.

“Oopsie!” Cassin-E interjected as soon as the word “Bio-Tech” left Tiger’s mouth. “Hate speech is a no-no.” Liv turned around to Tiger with a confused look in her eyes. Tiger just rolled hers. “Please restate your question using the term ‘human beings’ please.” Cassin-E said cheerfully.

Tiger huffed. “These human beings,” she spat the phrase. “Were they given a super cure for all diseases?”

“You betcha!” Cassin-E answered. Liv closed her eyes and shook her head while Tiger gritted her teeth and let out a long exhale. “Their ancestors were given the cure more than 100 years ago.”

“Fuck me.” Tiger stomped down the circular steps.

“I cannot perform that service, but here are some local establishments that can! The Rub Hub, The O Zone, Spunknik-“ Cassin-E listed, bringing up a map of The Mons on a small screen and highlighting the domes he was talking about.

“Cassin-E, stop.” Liv rolled her eyes, following in Tiger’s wake. Tiger and Liv approached the small screen.

“Was there a war because the government forced a super cure on the unwilling?” Tiger asked, trying to sound patient.

“No!” Cassin-E said. They both sighed in relief. “There was a war because the government withheld the cure from a large portion of a desperate and dying populace.” Cassin-E continued. Article after article flashed over the screen with concerning titles. “Thus kicking off 100 years of global bloodshed, the likes of which our planet has never seen.” Images of fires, cities in ruin, and more disturbing things flashed in front of their eyes. Liv tore her eyes away and looked up at Tiger, who looked horrified as she shook her head.

“No, I can’t believe this.” Tiger breathed out.

“Retrieving more visual proof.” Cassin-E summoned images of war, more fires from explosions, piles of dead bodies, dead animals, mushroom clouds, smoke-

“Stop.” Liv said as she glanced between the pictures and Tiger’s face. “Stop!”

“Cassie-E, stop!” Tiger barked. “The next thing out of your squawk box better be some good news about the last 100 years.” Tiger’s voice came out gravelly and panicked.

“How about this?” Cassin-E brought up a picture of a signed treaty. “Thanks to the Armistice of 2142, humanity has enjoyed 20 years of lasting peace.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tiger nodded, stepping closer to the screen impatiently. “Tell me more about these peace accords.”

“The Peace Accord Bombing of 2094 devastated Western Europe-“

“Does that sound like good news to you, Cassin-E?” Tiger snapped, smacking the screen repeatedly with the spear.

“Tiger!” Liv cried.

“Ma’am?! Ma’am?!” Cassin-E changed the screens to say ‘ALERT’. “You are currently breaking the Violence Against Machines Act of 2139!”

Liv grappled at Tiger’s arms, but Tiger shoved her down to the ground. “I’m gonna break a lot more than that you fucking dork-a-tron!” Tiger screamed.

“I am computer code and cannot be physically harmed.” Cassin-E said as Tiger’s attacks slowed, her own wounds reopening. “You appear to be injured.” He observed. “Your current rate of blood loss is 9.6 milliliters per minute.”

Liv scrambled to her feet and supported Tiger as she groaned. “You need help.” Liv muttered, gripping Tiger’s arms. “I know you won’t ask for it, but you need it. It’s bad Tiger.” Blood was seeping through her black shirt.

“I advise you to seek medical attention.” Cassin-E said. Tiger rolled her eyes and hunched over, holding her stomach. Liv helped Tiger out of the dome, wincing as she wrapped her injured arm around her. “Oh, uh, have a wonderful day.” Cassin-E said quickly as the door swung closed.

Liv looked around for anything that looked like a hospital, a Red Cross or something. Three domes from where they stood, Liv saw just that. “Over here, come on.” Liv helped Tiger walk to the dome labeled Unit 06. As soon as they walked inside, Tiger broke away from Liv and rushed over to a desk, digging through its drawers for any bandages, anything to staunch the fresh blood really. Liv held her arm as she watched Tiger, unsure of what to do.

“Do you need medical attention?” Tiger asked, throwing open more drawers and grunting when she couldn’t find anything useful.

“Not as bad as you do.” Said Liv.

“You need something too Liv, roll up your sleeve.” Tiger turned around after shoving everything off of a shelf.

Liv gingerly rolled up the long sleeve of her shirt just below her shoulder. Her wound was nasty, but not bleeding anymore. “See? It’s okay-“

Tiger was back to digging through things. As Liv looked around, she felt more and more confused. Why didn’t they have anything useful in this medical dome? Tiger picked up a spray bottle of some kind, lifted her shirt and sprayed it directly on her wound.

“What is that?!” Liv cried and Tiger screamed in pain. “Is that even helping?” Tiger picked up a stapler, a retractable blade, and a pin. “Tiger, what are you doing?!” Liv hissed.

“They seem to be out of medical supplies, I’m getting creative.” Tiger hissed back, eyeing some kind of gadget sitting on a table behind her.

“That is not safe.” Liv held a hand out, as if that would stop her. Tiger picked up a clothing hanger and held it between her teeth as she tried to turn on the unidentifiable gadget. “Tiger, that’s not-“ The door to the dome opened and Tiger froze. Liv shrank behind Tiger.

“Is Tony in?” A woman’s voice asked as she walked in, holding one of the Bio-Tech suits on a hanger. “I was hoping to have this clean by…Monday…” she stopped as she saw Tiger with her bloody wound holding her makeshift medical tools and Liv hiding behind her. She stared at them and slowly lifted an eyebrow. “You do know there’s an infirmary two quads up and three over?” The woman asked.

Tiger looked over her shoulder at Liv and took the hanger out of her mouth. The gadget turned on in Tiger’s hand. It was a steamer.

The two left, faces red and slightly embarrassed. “There was a red cross,” Liv muttered. “Red cross means…” she trailed off as she looked up at the small sign over the door. “Tony’s Dry Cleaning” was what the sign read. The cross was the “T”.

“That’s misleading.” Tiger sighed. “What was it again, two quads up and three down or something?”

“I think so.” Liv mumbled.

Tiger took the lead again, her and Liv walking out amongst the Bio-Techs and trying to seem nonchalant. As they walked two quads up, Liv noticed Tiger’s body language change, the way her grip on the spear tensed, the way her head kept turning subtly. Tiger’s hand nudged Liv’s arm again.

“Don’t look back. We’ve got company.” Tiger whispered, a faint smile on her lips. She seemed excited to take down some of the Bio-Techs. Liv’s heart began pounding in her ears as she tried to calmly keep up with Tiger, following her behind a small dome. Tiger somehow quickly scaled the side of the tent-like material and planted her boots into the side to keep her from sliding down. She held out a hand to Liv. “Come on.” She whispered. Too confused and anxious to ask, she let Tiger help her up. Three Bio-Techs came around both sides, they must have been their company.

“Where did they go?” One of them asked. Tiger readied her spear.

“They’re right here.” Tiger stated, deadpan. She launched herself onto one of them, wrapping her legs around his neck and flipping him over. She lunged at a woman, hitting her with the flat side of the spear. Liv slid down the side and kicked the third Bio-Tech, another man, behind his knees and he buckled and fell. Tiger pointed the spear at him as he knelt in front of her, raising his hands in surrender.

“You found us.” Tiger narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you want.” Liv stood at Tiger’s side.

“To invite you up there.” The man pointed up to a structure built into the mountain.

“What is that?” Tiger pressed, pointing the spear into his chest.

“He wants to see you.” Was all the man said. Tiger’s brow furrowed as she looked at Liv, but lowered her weapon.

“Who wants to see us?” Liv asked. The man wouldn’t answer.

Leading them up a staircase in the mountain and to the main doors of the giant house and up a gold elevator, the man brought them to some glass doors. The room was beautiful, all white and clean with a giant window overlooking the Mons. A man sat with his back turned to them, playing “Claire De Lune” on the piano beautifully. Tiger grabbed Liv’s arm, keeping her at her side protectively. She shot Liv a look, both of them looking confused and nervous. The piano playing stopped as the man realized he wasn’t alone. Stu Camillo turned around. Liv stopped in her tracks, recognizing him before Tiger, who took a few more steps before realizing Liv had stopped and was gaping at him. Tiger looked harder at him. Stu’s face broke into a giant grin. Tiger recoiled immediately upon recognizing him, stepping back to Liv’s side.

“I can’t believe it!” He gasped. “You’re here.” He walked down the steps that led to his small stage. Liv realized he meant Tiger, and was paying no mind to her. Stu’s face fell as he took in Tiger’s bloody hands and realized it was from holding her still bleeding stomach. “Oh no, you’re hurt. Dr. Hogeveen!” He called, patting the stage, signaling for Tiger to sit down.

Liv led Tiger to where Stu had offered for her to sit. “How are you here?” Tiger huffed, seeming annoyed.

“How are you here?” Stu was in awe. Not once did he look at Liv. “It’s been 144 years, seven months, and three days since we…since we met.” Stu blushed and looked down. Liv shot Tiger a disgusted look. Tiger shook her head at her, looking equally as disgusted. “You haven’t aged a day.” He gushed.

“I’ve aged one day, one shitty, shitty day.” Tiger grimaced as Liv helped her sit all the way on the small stage.

A woman in the Bio-Tech uniform rushed in, medical kit in hand. She had blonde, super short, slicked back hair and a serious look about her. She rushed to Tiger’s side.

“One day?” Stu asked. “How is that possible?”

Liv stepped aside to let the woman, Dr. Hogeveen, take care of Tiger. “Time travel.” Tiger grunted as Dr. Hogeveen inspected her wound. Dr. Hogeveen faltered at Tiger’s response, looking up at her and slightly raising an eyebrow. Liv looked at her suspiciously. Dr. Hogeveen caught Liv’s eye and turned to her medical kit. Liv tore her eyes away from her and folded her arms.

“Time travel?” Stu laughed. “That doesn’t exist.”

“Well, obviously it does because I’m here in your…mountain lair.” Tiger scoffed as she looked around the room. Dr. Hogeveen got to work on the wound, scanning it with a gadget. “What did you do, freeze yourself?”

“This is a miracle.” Stu was just bubbling with giddiness. “This is happiness I don’t deserve, a bolt of joy, a-“ Stu gushed further.

“Yeah, uh huh, uh huh,” Tiger interrupted him. “How did Kronish’s cure get out?”

“Kronish?” Stu furrowed his brows. “His work died with him.”

“What?” Tiger and Liv both asked at the same time.

“Ow!” Tiger yelled, glaring at Dr. Hogeveen, who was prodding the wound.

“These wounds…” Dr. Hogeveen started, turning to Stu. “It would help if I could see the weapon that caused them.”

“Yeah, let’s just pop back 140 years and take them off the chucklefucks who shot me.” Tiger spat, rolling her eyes. “Who developed the cure?” Tiger demanded.

Stu looked bashful suddenly. “Well, I don’t like to toot my own kazoo, but it was me.” He shuffled his feet and smiled shyly at Tiger. “It was my life’s work.”

Tiger sat up straight, making Dr. Hogeveen, who was cleaning the wound, stop. “Why would you do that?”

“Because tens of millions of people were dying and I wanted to save them.” Stu said, smiling awkwardly. Tiger shot up, making Dr. Hogeveen lean away, and charged at him. Before Liv could even react Tiger was thrashing and attacking.

“You monster!” She screamed, grabbing a curved blade concealed in her belt and stabbing at him with it. Only her hand went all the way through him. She kicked at his legs, but her foot went right through him too. Stu just nodded, knowingly.

“Alright, just get it out of your system.” He said as Tiger continuously tried to maim him. She turned around and looked at Liv, wild eyed and panting.

“What-“ she panted. Liv was just as shocked, jaw dropped onto the ground. Tiger spun around, frantic. “Reveal yourself!”

“No, I’m not hiding.” Stu tried to explain. “This is me, I’m a hologram.”

“It’s true.” Dr. Hogeveen confirmed, packing her kit up. “He is.”

“What kind of sick techno nightmare is this?” Tiger shook her head, backing away.

Stu’s eyes flickered over to Dr. Hogeveen. “Eunice, could you give us a moment?”

Dr. Hogeveen, Eunice, nodded, closing up her kit and walked towards the door.

Stu approached Tiger. “I…I know this is a lot to take in but, I’m an AIS, an Augmented Intelligence System.” He explained to Tiger. “I uploaded my brain, my memories, everything about me still exists, I just don’t have a body.”

“So you’re…what? A robot-ghost?”

For the first time, Stu’s eyes landed on Liv. She saw a flash of annoyance in his eyes. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Liv was slightly taken aback. Stu didn’t recognize her. That was right, Stu didn’t know her back in the fucked up 2017, of course he wouldn’t know her now. It made sense why he wouldn’t know her, but she was confused about why he seemed so obsessed with Tiger though.

“I’m Liv,” she almost stuck her hand out for him to shake, but then remembered he was a hologram.

“She’s my companion.” Tiger added.

Stu looked between them and nodded for a moment. “Excuse me.” He said, turning away and disappearing.

Tiger rolled her eyes and groaned the second he was gone. “Tiger, does this have something to do with you tracking him down a couple days ago?” Liv asked.

“All I did was make him dinner and make him tell me about Kronish, I don’t know what his deal is.” Tiger grumbled.

“Yeah, well, he wants you and he wants you bad.” Liv sauntered over to a dining table and took a seat.

“Wants me bad for what?” Tiger asked, looking annoyed. Liv stared at her, saying nothing. Tiger put two and two together. She wrinkled her nose. “Fuck no.” She took a seat next to Liv and let her head sink down and hit the glass table.

Stu was gone for several minutes. Liv poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher and drank it down in two gulps. Tiger held a hand out for the pitcher and drank straight from it. Stu appeared back in the room, looking much happier.

“So! Where were we?” He asked cheerfully.

“You were blabbing about being a computer zombie.” Tiger set the pitcher down.

Stu walked over to them. “Your feelings are understandable and valid, TyAnne.” Stu said gently.

“TyAnne?” Liv whispered.

“Oh yeah, that’s,” Tiger gave a light, unconvincing laugh. “That’s not my name, actually. I’m Tiger, and I’m from the year 2162, but not this bullshit version. I’m from the version where I was sent back to stop the cure from ever getting out. You were just a mark for my mission.” Tiger shrugged. “I blew up the Kronitorium and all of Kronish’s research.” She drank straight from the pitcher again.

Stu shook his head. “What? You didn’t blow up the lab that was the Krona-bomber, Joosh Futturman.” Tiger and Liv exchanged glances. “Little Boy Blew.” He added in a terrified whisper.

“Yeah,” Tiger let out a scoff. “Well, he was with us.”

“You were working with him? He was a cold-blooded killer! He was remorseless during the trial.” Stu was stunned.

Liv couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, picturing Josh on trial and being all remorseless and heartless. Maybe he learned how to lie after all.

“This does not compute.” Stu shook his head, looking horrified.

“You know what else doesn’t compute?” Tiger asked viciously. “The world I come from, we were in the midst of a thirty year war, now, thanks to you we’re up to 100.” She leaned back in her chair looking over at Liv and shaking her head. Liv sat with her hands clasped on the table, biting the inside of her lip.

“114, actually.” Stu mumbled. “We round down for morale.”

“Do you understand now why you being the father of the cure is not exactly the bee’s knees.” Tiger pinched the bridge of her nose.

Stu let out a mix between a sigh and a nervous chuckle. “Oh boy, uh, the foundation to any healthy relationship is honesty and I want you to trust me…” he twiddled his fingers.

Liv’s eyes raised to look up at Stu with a questioning look. Tiger rose to her feet, not afraid to jump down his throat immediately. “Out with it, phantom!” She demanded, storming at him. Stu backed away. Liv questioned whether or not she should also stand menacingly, but figured she’d let Tiger do that part.

Stu raised his hands defensively. “When you stab me, it doesn’t hurt physically, but it does hurt my heart.”

Tiger rolled her eyes (again). “That just makes me wanna stab you more.”

Stu sighed as he was backed into a corner. He technically could just go through the wall, but he didn’t. “Okay, if I’m the father of the cure, then you’re kinda the mom.”

That was it. Liv rose to her feet so fast her chair crashed to the ground. “What?”

“What?!” Tiger shrieked and attempted to strangle Stu. This time he went through the wall as he yelped.

“Tiger, what did you do with him?!” Liv cried.

“Nothing!” Tiger yelled at Liv.

Stu came through the wall again, about six feet away from Tiger. “When you saved my life by telling me not to go into work that fateful day, I wanted to thank you, but you vanished! I had no way to get in contact with you!” Stu explained defensively, backing away from Tiger who was still advancing on him. He backed through the table and through Liv, who shuddered and tried to shoo him away, but he didn’t pay any attention to her. Tiger walked straight into the table, forgetting she couldn’t do that too.

“Fuck!” She hissed.

“Then! I remembered that I’m a scientist.” Stu kept explaining, walking up the stairs of his little white piano stage again. “I could find you using something you’d left behind.”

Tiger walked around the table and stomped quickly after him. “Like what?” She demanded. A glass tube appeared on a glass display. A single purple hair was suspended inside. Liv followed Tiger up the stairs and couldn’t hide the disturbed look on her face. Stu Camillo, you were always a weirdo. Liv thought, looking at the tube and pressing her lips together tightly. Tiger just looked confused.

“The genomic structure of your DNA was like nothing I’d ever seen.” Stu said.

It hit Tiger all at once. With one hand, she grabbed Liv’s arm in shock, with the other she tried to swipe at the tube, but her hand went right through.

“Oh, uh, that’s a hologram too, the original was bought by Elon Musk.” Stu said before taking in a nervous breath. Tiger’s eyes flickered over to Stu, full of disturbance and rage.

“You used my Biotic DNA to create the cure?” She whispered, trying to understand. She gripped Liv’s forearm tighter.

“I thought you were an angel sent from heaven, I thought that this was my life’s purpose, to use this to heal the world.” As Stu spoke, Tiger turned away, rage melting and turning into something like panic, Liv could hear it in her erratic breathing. She reached out to calm her. “I wanted to save humanity the way you saved me.” Tiger shook her head and turned to Stu, putting out a hand to lean on his piano. “Wait! No, that’s a-“

Tiger’s hand went right through it and fell off the raised flooring and down to the ground.

“Shit!” Liv reached out but missed. She shot Stu a glare.

“It’s a hologram! I’m so sorry!” Stu apologized, looking guilty. He looked at Liv. “That was the worst time to happen.” Tiger sat up and gave Stu a burning glare.

“Liv,” she never took her eyes off Stu “We’re leaving.”

“What a fucking weirdo, you know, he always gave me a weird vibe. He would always yell at everyone when he was our boss, once he yelled at me and Josh for not putting up those yellow caution signs up ‘straight enough’? Cool man, do it yourself.” Liv rambled as she and Tiger stormed out of Stu’s mountain lair. “And you know what? He was mean to Kronish all the time, and Kronish was never mean to him. Asshole, I can’t believe that he’s still around, fuck that guy and fuck him for using you to make a cure…” Liv rambled on and on as they walked down the stairs that led down the mountain and back to the Mons.

Tiger and Liv walked back through the Mons, Liv unloading everything she hated about Stu Camillo onto Tiger. “And he was such an asshole at the Kronish Ball when he-“ Stu appeared right in front of them. “Son of a bitch.” She groaned. Tiger stopped and groaned loudly.

“Look I get it,” Stu said, nodding his head. “You hate me.” He looked at Tiger apologetically.

“I don’t,” Tiger sighed. “This isn’t your fault, okay? It’s mine. I’m the one who left behind body relics, and that mistake made it so I destroyed humanity.”

“No! You saved it.” Stu stepped closer. Liv kicked up some dirt and sighed, realizing they weren’t getting away from him that easily. “None of these people would be alive if it wasn’t for you.” Stu said to Tiger. “If you hadn’t left behind those body relics, humanity would have gone the way of the bees. And the bats. All the animals, really.”

“What happened to the animals?” Liv asked. “You kill them all off to make room for your…” she gestured around to the domes. “This?” Stu didn’t pay attention to her as usual.

“Great,” Tiger said sarcastically. “I saved the doofus brigade just in time for the planet to die.”

“We are not gonna die with it,” Stu said proudly. “These people are not worrying about the end of the world, they’re looking forward to starting a new one on-“

“On Mars, yeah, we heard.” Liv interrupted. It felt good to sass Stu Camillo the way she’d always wanted to. What was he going to do? He was a hologram. Stu shot Liv an annoyed look. He noticed someone else and his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Jimmy! You excited about the MARS launch?” Stu called out to someone passing by. Tiger and Liv watched as Lil Jimmy McGurgan, now teenage Jimmy McGurgan, excitedly pranced up to Stu.

“You bet, Stu! Check out this new suit!” He showed the three of them the big 1 embroidered on his arm. “First boy on Mars!” He cheered.

“No one can take that away from you!” Stu gave him a thumbs up as he pranced away again. As soon as he was out of ear shot he said to Tiger and Liv, “Really wish I could take that away from him, but the rules of the radio call-in contest were clear.” He chuckled. He looked seriously at Tiger. “For the first time, humanity is working together in pursuit of one single goal-“

“Does that include the spear-wielding man-mountain over at the NAG?” Tiger lashed. “‘Cause His goal was to make us shit ourselves.”

Stu sighed. “The good people of the NAG are invited to MARS. I’ve reached out countless times, but they’re so anti-tech that they don’t trust me. When I finally made enough cure, I sent it to them. You know what they did? They smashed it with rocks. When puppies went extinct, I sent the PUP-E, an adorable robo-dog! They smashed them with rocks.”

“Damn…” Liv whispered to Tiger.

“I am trying really, really hard. I know I can’t force anyone to see the great thing we’re doing here, but I hope you will.” Stu pleaded.

“Okay, Stu.” Tiger finally agreed. Liv squinted up at her with a confused look. “Yeah, maybe this world is better than where I came from, but that doesn’t mean I have a place in it. I still don’t know who I am or how I got this way.”

Stu nodded, taking in what Tiger said. “I…I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Tiger and Liv begrudgingly made the trip back up the staircase up the mountain and back to Stu’s place. Leading them back into the same room, Tiger and Liv were met with…Tiger. Tiger and…Tiger. This Tiger had long purple hair and wore a neon yellow shirt with teeny tiny black shorts and a furry shawl. Tiger, the real one, slowed down, looking this other Tiger over. Other Tiger slowly lifted an eyebrow, taking in the real Tiger, cocking her head. Liv looked between the two, feeling sick to her stomach.

“Tiger,” Stu grinned. “Meet TyAnne, my daughter.”

Tiger froze. Liv sharply turned her head to look back at Stu. She looked back at TyAnne, who twirled her long purple hair around a finger.

A fake smile spread over TyAnne’s lips. “Hiiiiii.” She drawled in a nasally, high pitched, annoying voice, her smile falling and giving Tiger a deadpan look, not a Tiger deadpan look, a bitchy deadpan look. Tiger glanced over at Liv, looking green.

A Check In With Our Friend Wolf aka A Wolf in the Torque House summarized

Having been separated from Tiger and Liv in the NAG (or the New Above Ground), Wolf wakes up to find himself surrounded by his own counterpart, Torque's, cluster. His cluster (or 6 family members) include his wives Thimble, Level, and Rake, his husbands Lathe and Hatchet, and their daughter Lugnut. After learning about his counterpart, Torque, Wolf decides to take on his role until he can figure a way out of the NAG. He takes on the title of Wheelmaker, making wheels for the NAG, and meets old friends who don’t remember him. Despite this, Wolf begins to form a close bond with his now sorta daughter, Lugnut, eventually deciding that it probably won’t hurt for him to stay in the NAG a while longer…

A/N: Hi! Sorry there was no chapter last week, I think I’m going to upload on an every other week schedule kinda thing since I’ve been busy lately, but I’m back!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!!!