#he sealed his fate when i was training him n he muttered under his breath that he did it wrong becuase i was talking to him

[shamblz]

Boomer broke the skiving machine at work again >:^)

[mooniefics]

— personal punishment

pairing : nanami kento / fem reader

word count : 1.8k

tags : pnp, degradation, authority kink, office sex, semi-public sex, boss / secretary, nanami literally being the sexiest man to ever live and breathe

warnings : nsfw, power imbalance

summary : He couldn't expect you to be perfect—but he could definitely expect you to pay for each imperfection in more ways than one.

notes : thank u so much to @suna-reversed for hosting the incredibly creative jujutsuhub collab and allowing me to participate !! much love (୨୧•͈ᴗ•͈)◞*♡

you couldn't exactly say you weren't proud of your performance today.

for one, you'd come into the office late, knowing that your penalties would be formally waived by your boss but well aware that you would have to face his own personal punishment. it was just your luck that this very day was the most busy the office had been all month, leaving you running papers back and forth from your boss' office for hours, nearly tripping over your own heels three times too many before you even reached your lunch break, praying that you weren't screwing anything else up in your frantic rush.

but before you could even think about escaping the confines of the office building to make up for your missed breakfast at a cafe nearby, your boss was already calling back into his office. you already knew exactly why he was requesting your presence, fear and anticipation immediately tangling into a heavy knot in the pit of your stomach. but still you went, obediently as you always did, keeping your head low as you passed your coworkers in the hall.

your fate had been sealed the moment you made a mistake, the same outcome that had been repeating for months now each time you made an error, whether it was as small as not taking the trash out from the waste bin when it was too full for his liking to something as grievous as spilling his morning coffee all over one of his pristine white button-ups. for any and all errors, you were certain to face this punishment.

the position you were in wasn't unfamiliar, bent over nanami's desk, pencil skirt hiked all the way up to your waist with your underwear around your knees, completely at the mercy of the man caging you in with his body from behind.

"if you keep making all that noise, you're going to end up getting us both fired." he growled, voice low in your ear, one hand still pressed firmly over the center of your back, forcing your chest down onto his desk. the other was occupied between your legs, two thick fingers plunging mercilessly into your needy cunt as you struggled to hold in every whimper and moan each snap of his wrist drew from the back of your throat.

"'m s-sorry, s-sir..!" you barely managed to breathe out, nails beginning to scrape at the edge of the wooden tabletop, teeth digging almost painfully into your bottom lip.

"'sorry' doesn't even begin to fix everything you've fucked up today," his stern tone persisted, ribs aching between the pressure of the heel of his palm and the hard desk, "you know just how much stress i've been under and yet you went out of your way to make it worse."

"no, n-not that..! p-promise!" you whimpered, breath coming in pants, struggling to not rock back into his hand with the knowledge that he'd stop entirely if he noticed you doing it.

you had no choice but to keep your eyes trained on the door in front of you, thighs trembling with anticipation, muted gasps and mewls managing to find their way out into the open air despite your efforts. you knew he didn't mind the noise as long as you were making a conscious effort to keep quiet, only loud enough for him to have the pleasure of hearing, only expressing the pitiful broken attempts at showing remorse that seemed to arouse him to no end.

he curled his fingers to rub at spot inside you that made your knees weak, barely chuckling when you writhed under him. "enjoying your punishment like this... you're just a pathetic slut. That's all you'll ever be, isn't that right?"

Your head hung low as you came over his fingers, shuddering, biting firmly at the inside of your cheeks to hold back the whine threatening to escape your heaving chest. you knew you should be ashamed to be so excited in the face of his cruelty, but when it was his voice and hands—discipling you harshly but still paying such good attention to you and your body—you couldn't help yourself.

before you had enough time to begin catching your breath, you could already hear the clinking of his belt buckle as he pulled it free from the belt loops of his pants, the warmth of naked skin as the length of his cock met the back of your thighs, already hard. the hand resting at your back slid up to rest at the base of your neck, fingers working their way into your hair to firmly grasp, holding you still while he eased himself between your thighs.

"please, s-sir.." The words spilled out of you before you could even think to maintain your obedient silence, earning a tug at your hair harsh enough to jerk your head back, arching your body further.

"snd who are you to be making any demands?" He muttered scornfully, the head of his cock now rubbing directly over your dripping pussy, making no effort to do anything more than painstakingly tease.

"i'm not, i j-just—" You sucked in a quick breath as you felt a sharp sting over your ass, certain there was a reddening welt where his hand had just struck it, "i pr-promise i'll be better..."

"and how can I be certain that you actually will? you say the same thing every damn time, and you still have yet to show me any improvement."

your eyes watered as you searched for a proper response, stammering over your words for just a moment too long—long enough to reignite the anger you'd found a momentary mercy from. you just barely pressed your hand over your mouth in time to muffle your own cry as he slammed himself inside of you, the desk shifting across the ground with a harsh squeak, insides struggling to accommodate his size all at once. he found a quick, ruthless rhythm of thrusting almost immediately, paying your quick gasps and pitiful whimpers no mind, almost painfully deep.

"is this is really the only thing you're good for?" he huffed, groaning lowly despite his apparent ire, "just taking cock and nothing else?"

"n-no!" you protested, barely able to hold your voice steady enough to respond, swallowing down each hiccuped breath interrupting your words, "this is the l-last time, i swear..! p-please sir, please—"

he shushed you harshly before you could continue, large hand rubbing over the aching flesh he'd previously slapped in a silent threat to repeat the action. you wouldn't be entirely opposed to feeling his large hand strike you again and again, leaving prints of red across your skin that wouldn't fade until hours after you'd left the office for the night, but you knew that you still had the entire second half of your day ahead of you to pretend as if he hadn't completely ruined you just meters away from the rest of his hardworking employees.

"at this point, i might as well just be paying to fuck you." he muttered callously, the speed of his hips slowing the slightest bit, each thrust still hitting deep enough for you to feel in your stomach, "then what does that make you, hm? a prostitute? my personal little plaything.."

you strained to vigorously shake your head side to side, fingers aching from how tightly they were clenching around the edge of the desk, your own arousal trailing down between your trembling thighs, hot tears dribbling down your flushed cheeks. you should've felt more inclined to deny his assertion, to prove yourself to be more than just a toy for him to used whenever he desired, when he needed to take out the pent up frustration he saved for your errors and your errors only—but you knew in the back of your mind that you were perfectly content with your position, as immorally lucrative as it was. you would embarrass yourself everyday for the rest of your career if it meant you could experience this at least once more.

"sorry, s-sorry..! oh fuck, sir, 'm so sorry!" the apologies you knew he loved so much spilled from your lips in a pathetic, broken moan, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as you held out for a few more mind-numbing moments before cumming around his thick cock.

you barely registered his hand grasping your hair painfully tight as he grunted a few low curses beside your ear, shakily exhaling a sigh when he emptied himself inside you, finally letting you rest back against the hard surface of his desk while you both caught your breath. it was all over far too soon, the intense intimacy that never lasted longer than the half-hour of your lunch break, even though you were sure he could steal you away for far longer without anyone daring to question him.

you wiped at your damp under-eyes with quivering hands, trying to not further disturb your already ruined mascara, swallowing down a whimper when pulled himself out of you and tugged your underwear back into place, readjusting your skirt for you before moving away from your body entirely.

he had already tidied up his own clothes by the time you pushed yourself to stand, that familiar expression of cool indifference having already resettled onto his handsome features. he barely ever let you see his face when he was disciplining you, always making sure you were facing away from him, or that you couldn't lift your head enough to get a good look at his face. it made it all feel so impersonal, inspired something that felt like sadness in the back of your mind, despite how you tried to remind yourself that what you had wasn't true intimacy, and that he could really replace you any day if he felt so inclined to do so.

"go clean up in the bathroom." he said without looking at you, straightening his tie back into place and checking the time on his watch, "you will need to take a call from a new client soon, and it is imperative that you give them the perfect first impression of our company. i expect you to be back here within the next ten minutes." his brow furrowed, the look of someone who'd just thought of something unpleasant flashing across his features when he finally met your gaze. "no more exceptions today."

"yes, sir." you replied obediently, voice hoarse, quickly turning away before the weight of a sudden sadness could show, advancing towards his door as briskly as your state allowed you to. you didn't look back on your way out, even though you so desperately wanted to, maybe deliver a genuine apology now that you knew he was genuinely irritated with you.

but you didn't, and the day continued as it always did, phone calls and document filing keeping you occupied for the rest of your shift, not receiving another word from your boss regarding anything. you tried not to take it personally when he didn't bid you farewell before leaving the building, reminding yourself that it was most likely just the pressure of a busy quarter, cursing yourself for screwing things up and enjoying your momentary bliss before the true consequence of genuine disappointment from nanami anchored you back to the somber reality of your situation.

it was foolish of you to think you'd be anything more than a secretary in his eyes.

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TEN || IDLE TRANSFIGURATION

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda + ieiri shoko from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 11 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1,8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : small fly and reverse retribution 

↳ next episode : narrow-minded

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, it’s getting a bit difficult to write the series because the episodes in the anime does not match with Y/N’s timeline/story right now since Itadori and her are in two completely different situations, but i am trying my best ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ i hope you enjoy today’s episode even though, once again, it isn’t that interesting at all to be honest... but at least nanami will appear in the next one!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Y/N has been sleeping a lot lately, don’t you think?” Zenin asked curiously, as she looked towards the direction of where you were, which was under the usual tree at the track field that you were peacefully sleeping under with your track top used as a pillow for the time being.

“Kelp,” Inumaki replied, as he was also looking at your direction with his classmate while nodding his head in agreement - he was worried since it seemed like everyone was tiring you out due to the 5 vs 1 practice matches they would do…with you being the sole target that no one could defeat yet.

“Did we tire her out that bad? Has she been getting any sleep?” Panda continuously questioned, leading the rest of the second-years to look at you with concerned expression while the other first-years were sitting between you to keep you company after you woke up.

“It’s so boring with you, I want Y/N to wake up soon…” Kugisaki muttered as she looked down at you with a pout on her face causing her classmate to give off an irritated expression before soften up once he turned to look down at you as well.

To them both right now, you seemed to be so in peace for the first time in a while as your breathing was set at a steady and light rhythm with few spots of sunlight shone down your face due to the leave areas the leaves above you three right now, there was also no sort of hints of you having a nightmare at all, no wrinkles could be seen to indicate that there was any right now.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki couldn’t deny the fact that they both could sense that they were improving in their combat skills with you as their mentor and opponent during the practice matches since each time as each match went by, they seemed to last a second longer than they did before leading them to be motivated and encouraged by the small but satisfying achievement.

“We don’t seem to get a scratch on her though,” Fushiguro commented, as he admired your face to see no indication of you even fighting all five of Zenin, Inumaki, Panda, Kugisaki and himself, it seemed as if you didn’t even lift a single finger during training today. However, the same could be said with them since you were also practising your reversed curse technique on them ever since you had been taking lessons with Ieiri Shoko - to which you had to admit, Gojo was right when she didn’t explain the concept of the technique really well.

“Do you think we’re making her use too much of her cursed energy?” Kugisaki asked in an anxious tone, as she was concerned about the number of times you had fallen asleep during the training session during the week since you were using both some cursed energy during training as well as healing their wounds to improve your use of the reversed cursed technique that you were aiming to perfect it by the time of the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

“I don’t think so, she processes an immense amount of it but it’s probably because she isn’t getting enough sleep,” Fushiguro quietly answered causing Kugisaki to look up at him in confusion since even though you and her were quite close with one another, she still knew so little about you when it came to jujutsu.

Fushiguro, however, knew almost as much as he was allowed to due to Gojo’s explanation about your background the other day when he had a conversation with him.

“The L/N clan are the stability of the Jujutsu world, as much as I hold the fate of this world, Y/N is someone that can support it’s pillars to keep it up, that’s probably why the Zenin clan wanted an alliance by marriage...to obtain one or all those pillars to themselves”

Deep in thinking, Fushiguro couldn’t help but wonder what Gojo meant by those words. From what he could recall, once Gojo mentioned your role within this complex world of jujutsu sorcery, he also mentioned something that your ancestor did to make sure Ryomen Sukuna was sealed for the time being as they weren’t able to cast the cursed spell that was specifically needed to exorcise the special grade curse, yet a year ago, the phenomenon of the rumoured ‘falsified’ technique seemed to be used during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons - which lasted for only a short 0.5 seconds - leading Gojo to suspect that you had already executed something that no other sorcerer from your clan had ever achieved.

Yet, Fushiguro had no idea what it was.

However, before he could even utter out a comment to Kugisaki, from the corner of his eye he noticed something shining from the corner of your eye causing the shikigami user to turn his head slightly to have a closer look only to suddenly discover an unexpected tear swiftly rolling down to the side to which caught him by surprised.

Steadily, Fushiguro reached out his arm to wake you up from your slumber to ask what was wrong, only for someone to beat him to it as an arm with what seemed to be a white coat sleeve suddenly appeared into his view.

“Y/N, can you wake up for me?” the person asked, as they gently shook your shoulders which completely surprised Kugisaki since she was in a daze after it had gone silent between her and Fushiguro.

After a few seconds, a groan could be heard from you as you gradually opened your eyes before steadily blinking a few times to let your eyes focus on the setting in front of you only to come across Ieiri, who was looking at you with a small smile on her face while the prominent dark eye circles were completely visible to you even when you were in the tree shade.

“Shoko-san?” you quietly called out, before grudgingly sitting up as you stretch your arms to release some of the stiffness that was building up leading to the Jujutsu Tech doctor to explain the reason why she had woken you up.

“I have someone I want you to practice your technique on since you progressed a lot over the past few weeks, is that okay?” she questioned, causing you to nod and smile at her before your mind came to a sudden question that you had in mind.

“Is it really okay for me to heal the person? Wouldn’t they want you to be in their care?” you asked curiously, before covering your mouth to let out a small yawn.

“Don’t worry, I asked him if he would allow it this once and he agreed,” the doctor stated in reassurance before standing up from her crouched position that she was in. “I need you there in about a few minutes, take your time to wake yourself up,” Ieiri stated before walking away in the direction she came from to go attend the sorcerer that needed to be healed at this moment in time.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt a sudden click before doing the same to the other side to relieve some of the tension that was lingering from your sleeping position - having a track top as a pillow wasn’t as comfortable as you wanted it to be.

“Gojo, when you come back do you want to come with me to get some drinks?” Kugisaki asked with a bright smile on her face causing you to smile excitedly at her as you agreed to the invitation since you were craving orange juice quite a bit.

Standing up on your feet, you rolled your shoulders back to hear the familiar cracks that released some more firmness from your bone and muscles. However, before you could even take a step forward on going to the designated location that you needed to be, you noticed that there was someone else who was standing next to you, leading you to give a side glance to see Fushiguro ready upon his feet, while Kugisaki had already rushed to Zenin’s side.

“I’ll take you there,” Fushiguro randomly stated to you, causing you to give him a perplexed look.

“I don’t think that’s needed, I know where to go and you need to train more,” you informed the shikigami sorcerer before informing the second-years that you needed to go for some time, which they understood, as you then processed to walk in the same direction that Ieiri went. However, you didn’t expect the erratic-hair sorcerer to follow you regardless of your previous comment.

“Didn’t I say you didn’t need to take me there, you drag?” you questioned, as you continued to make your way to the infirmary only for Fushiguro to not answer you at all causing you to let out a sigh of frustration as you decided not to fight against his decision since you knew he wasn’t going to listen to you - he never did to be honest.

“Are you okay?” Fushiguro asked bluntly, leading you to once again look at your classmate in confusion since it was the most random question he could ever ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine, what’s the reason for you asking?” you commented, as you placed your hands in the pockets of your black nylon cargo joggers leading the sorcerer next to you to look at you with an expressionless look on his face.

If you were really okay, you wouldn’t have shed a tear in your sleep right? Or maybe he was overthinking it?

Fushiguro wasn’t quite sure.

Ever since you and him met, you have never shown a side of vulnerability to him at all, you have never shown a hint of fear, sadness or insecurity to him or anyone else ever from what he could remember. From Fushiguro’s perspective, one side of you was calm, supportive and intelligent due to both your knowledge of everyone’s techniques as well as your battle tactics that you can come up suddenly on the spot, the other side of you were just your moody side when you would yell at him or flick his forehead randomly to express your irritation when he wouldn’t listen to you - which he did quite often than he would like to admit.

“No reason, just worried about you,” Fushiguro mentioned, hiding his real intention of why he questioned your wellbeing, as continued to look at what was in front of him to avoid making eye contact with you since he could feel your eyes peering at him with curiosity filling them.

Sighing once again, you slap the back of his head causing him to groan since you put more strength than you intended to. “You shouldn’t worry about me Fushiguro, be selfish,” you commented before walking faster to be ahead of him, leaving him confused about what you had just mentioned to him.

“Be selfish?” Fushiguro muttered in confusion leading you to turn back to look over your shoulder before smiling at him.

“You were going to take me there right?” you asked, as you halted your movement causing the shikigami user to finally catch up to you while you had a lingering question in the back of your mind.

‘What was that dream?’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[looooooooomis]

F I N A L  G I R L  |  T H R E E

You were his final girl.  And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t   t h r e e  |  j e a l o u s y

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 4.3k warnings: angst tbh. and not the healthiest relationship but ya know what it’s billy so we persevere, unwanted advances, more angst x

I had a request for a jealous billy, so I hope you like my take on it x

That was the third time in the last thirty minutes that Steve Shit-For-Brains Orth touched you. Three fucking times. The first two times he was willing to look past but the third? Fuck no. The asshole, who was sitting with his clunky arm on the back of your chair, had not-so-casually rubbed his thumb along your spine, inciting a rather surprised look from you and a rather murderous one from Billy.

Of course, Steve couldn’t see the rage practically oozing from Billy, but boy was it there. Especially when you went out of your way to lean further into your desk as though to avoid his grabby little hands.

But that didn’t stop Steve.

Billy could see the frustration on your face as you fought to keep your cool in front of your classmates as his hand dipped beneath the desk to give your thigh a firm squeeze.

The same thighs that Billy’s face had been buried in just this morning.

All Billy saw was red as you pushed Steve’s hand away, muttering something to him under your breath before raising your hand to excuse yourself. With an anger so palpable radiating from his every pore, Billy watched you leave the classroom and thought of the various ways he could kill that fucker before you returned.

“Billy,” the girl, Sam, he’d been paired up with groused, “are you even paying attention?”

“No,” he simply said, barely hearing her above the sound of his own blood coursing to his ears. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry, of course, only irate. The vein in his neck pulsed against his skin as his blood pressure skyrocketed. This was the type of thing that drove him to the brink of insanity when it came to having to keep the two of you a secret for the sake of his plan. It was bad enough that he couldn’t parade you around like he wanted to, even worse that he knew, deep down, that your little arrangement hurt you beyond belief – but this? Watching you get pawed by these dickheads all the while he was forced to take a backseat?

He couldn’t stomach it.

His knuckles were white from the grip he had on his pencil but even as he felt it splinter off into his palm, his grip never waned. Not for a second. It was either that or kill Steve Orth and, while that sounded great, he couldn’t. Not yet, at least.

Just as the pressure of the pencil in his hand got to be too much, you waltzed back into the room with your head held high, seemingly unfazed by the naked eye – but Billy saw right through it. He knew you, more than either of you would like to admit, and he could see the irritation as clear as day in those gorgeous eyes of yours as Steve smirked playfully up at you from where he sat.

Subtly, you gave Billy a gentle nod, silently talking him down from doing anything stupid in the middle of the classroom, before taking your seat yet again.

Thankfully, Steve managed to keep his hands off of you for the remainder of the class but, unbeknownst to both you and Steve, that assholes fate had been sealed. Billy might not have been able to do anything to him yet, but he would. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

The bell eventually rang out and Billy, wasting no time at all, pushed himself off of his desk and walked up beside you. “You okay?” He asked, but his eyes were trained on Steve who was much too busy high-fiving one of his friends to notice Billy’s murderous stare.

“I’m fine, Billy,” you laughed, “he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.”

“Harmless?” Billy’s voice was low and impressively tame considering the fact that beneath it all, his blood was boiling. “He has no right to touch you.”

Glancing over your shoulder you smiled at one of the other cheerleaders before looking back at Billy. “I appreciate the concern, Billy, but I’m fine.”

That casual tone of yours just about killed him every single time. It was a punch to the gut compared the woman he had all to himself behind closed doors. This version of you, this censored version, was just a part of the charade, he knew that much, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

The rest of your classmates slowly filtered out of the room, eventually leaving you and Billy alone as you tossed your notebook into your bag. That weighty stare of his was ever present, but you pretended not to notice in fear of someone walking in. Billy Loomis was a lot of things, but subtle, he was not.

At least where you were concerned.

“That’s bullshit,” he seethed, “someone ought to show that fucker he can’t just go around touching what isn’t his. He—”

“What isn’t his?” A bitter laugh tumbled out of your lips. “I’m not a piece of fucking meat, Billy. I’m not his, sure, but I’m not yours, either.”

You watched the muscle in Billy’s jaw clench and that vein in his neck that always seemed to swell whilst he was under pressure visibly strained and pulsed before your very eyes. “I didn’t say you were,” he muttered, “I just meant that he needs to learn some respect.”

“He does,” you agreed, “but that’s not your job to teach him.”

Leaning against the desk, he ran a hand through his hair and glowered across at you. “I could tell it bothered you, so why the hell are you defending him?”

You rolled your eyes and swung your bag over your shoulder. “I’m not defending him, Billy. Steve’s an asshole, we all know this, but I don’t want you to get in shit thinking it’s your job to defend me. I can look after myself, Billy. I promise.” With another futile glance towards the door, you reached forward and gently ran your thumbnail against his bottom lip. “Besides, you’re too cute for a fistfight.”

Upon dropping your hand back down at your side, Billy caught it and gave it a squeeze. “I can’t help it if I get heated about all these assholes. Look at you.”

“You can help it, actually,” you laughed. “Don’t engage, first off. And, secondly,” you leaned in a little closer so that your lips were dangerously close to his ear, “try to remember who it is I’m fucking at the end of the day, hmm?” You pulled away and offered him a quick wink before walking out of the classroom. “See you at lunch, Loomis.”

»»-------------¤-------------««

“All I’m saying is that if he didn’t want me giving sage advice to those renting a fucking movie, then why hire me in the first place?” Randy asked with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You, Tatum, Sid and Randy were all outside eating at the fountain whilst waiting for the other two idiots to join. Pushing your sunglasses further up your nose you smirked across at Randy. “Randy, you told the guy not to rent the movie. Your job is to make people want to watch these movies.” You popped a carrot into your mouth. “How you’re still employed is truly a mystery.”

“That’s the thing,” he laughed, “he fired me!”

“Shocking,” Sid chuckled, “what did you say when he fired you?”

Randy stole a celery stick out of your Tupperware container and bit down. “Nothing, I kept working. Fire me? Not on my watch. No thanks.”

With a shake of your head, you stretched out your legs on the concrete slab of the fountain and found Stu bounding towards you with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you guys hear?” He asked, swooping down to kiss Tatum’s cheek. “Our man, Billy, snapped.”

You froze mid-bite and immediately looked at Sid who had sat up looking concerned as ever. “What?” She asked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Billy and Steve, man,” Stu laughed and snatched a carrot stick from your stash. “The two of them got into it during one coach’s drills and Billy just,” he bawled his hand into a fist and slapped it against his other hand. A resounding smack echoed out around you. “Clobbered him, man. It was awesome!”

With your appetite long gone, you slowly swung your legs back onto the ground and pinched your brow. You were raging. Not only had the idiot ignored you by engaging with Steve, but he’d gone ahead and fought him, too.

“What?” Sidney croaked. “W-Why would he do that? He’s never been the type to just fight someone like that. Did Steve do something to provoke him?”

You chewed on your lip and stared ahead as Stu merely shrugged. “Don’t think so,” he stole another carrot and grinned at something in the distance. “Ask him yourself, here he comes.”

Your blood was boiling beneath your skin as you watched Billy casually waltz over to your group as though he wasn’t wielding one hell of a fucking bruise on his cheek, accentuated perfectly with a small, clean slice along his cheekbone that would almost surely scar. The fucking moron.

“Billy!” Sid gasped, jumping up to tend to her boyfriend’s injuries.

You, on the other hand, forever the other woman, remained dutifully planted on the edge of the fountain. Not that you would have tended to him in any way, shape, or form in that instance. In fact, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to add to the mess on his face.  

“I’m fine,” he muttered, giving her hand a quick kiss as she gently observed his cheek. “Things just got heated on the field, is all.”

“You should see the other guy,” Stu beamed, “I hear Steve lost a tooth!”

Your anger swelled, momentarily blinding you as the rest of your friends laughed and asked for a play-by-play of events. Not quite trusting yourself, you pushed yourself up from the edge of the fountain wall and grabbed your bag. “I’ll see you guys later,” you hummed, not looking up at the bruised idiot in fear or snarling at him.

“You don’t want to stay for story time?” Stu asked, looking between you and Billy in amusement.

“Can’t.” Smacking on what you only hoped was a convincing smile, you shook your head and gestured to the school. “Forgot I had a meeting with Miss Wills about getting my biology grade up.”

Just before you turned on your heel to head back into the school, you just managed to catch Billy’s eye as he dutifully sat beside Sidney. She was leaning into him, gently prodding the scar along his cheek with a concerned frown marring her pretty face. He, on the other hand, was staring evocatively across at you with a small frown of his own.

Clearing your throat, you waved them off rather quickly before heading back inside of the school. You were too angry to care about how you felt the weight of his stare all over you before finally disappearing from sight.

»»-------------¤-------------««

You locked your bedroom door that night and closed your curtains to avoid rolling over and seeing the idiot that was currently plaguing your every thought staring back at you from the second story of your house. In fact, that was what you did for the next three nights all the while managing to avoid Billy Loomis as much as humanly possible whilst at school.

So far, he had tried on four separate occurrences to get you alone. Whether it was subtly nodding towards an empty classroom with the gang around or lingering by your desk after English in hopes of pinning you down for a chat, it was obvious that Billy was desperate to talk with you. To smooth things over. To move on from this rather ugly display of jealousy.

But you weren’t. And, honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to be any time soon, if at all.

A small dose of jealousy was only normal every once in a while. Not healthy, by any means, but a normal part of any relationship. Only this relationship you and Billy had was anything but normal. He had a girlfriend. A lovely, kind girlfriend who would have given him the world three times over if he asked. So just how Billy was the one with the audacity to be jealous made no sense.

Whenever you thought about it, you got mad. The injustice of it all was truly something you couldn’t wrap your head around. Just how Billy Loomis, the one with a girlfriend, could get jealous of a guy you were barely even acquaintances with really threw you for a loop. And yet you, the asshole who had somehow fallen in love with him, had to quietly take a seat and watch him dote over another girl in public.

Dote over your best friend.

Oh, the irony was delicious.

Tossing the book you’d been reading aside, you let out a quiet groan and closed your eyes as you heard the familiar jiggle of your window. It, like it had been for days, was still locked, thankfully, and your curtains still drawn in fear of seeing him.

The commotion tonight, was brief. He only tried for a second or two before you heard him meander his way back down to ground level. With an annoyed sigh, you reached for your book only to stop dead in your tracks when your doorbell rang out through your whole house.

Shooting up from your bed, you immediately lunged for the door and held your ear to it as your mother quietly complained about just who it could possibly be at this hour of the night.

Please be anyone else, please be anyone else, please be—”

“Oh, Billy,” your mother gushed. She’d always liked Billy. The traitor. “It’s awful late, is everything okay?”

Furling your brow, you pressed your ear further into your door and heard Billy’s deep voice say something – something probably charming – before your mother’s voice called up to you.

“Y/N, sweetie,” she beckoned, “Billy Loomis is here.”

You opened and shut your mouth several times over as you thought of your next few words. Somehow swearing at him from where you stood didn’t seem like the best idea with your parents in the house so, instead, you opted for the next best option.

You said nothing.

Holding your breath, you stood at the head of your room in nothing more than your flannel sleep shorts and tank top while hoping beyond hope that Billy would be ushered out of your house.

“I’m afraid she might be sleeping, dear,” your mother sympathetically cooed, “was there something you needed?”

Pressing your ear tighter to the wood, you barely made out the words ‘book’ and ‘homework’ before another sympathetic cluck escaped your mom’s lips. “And it’s due tomorrow?”

Bastard.

You panicked. His ploy was obviously to come up here and search for a book that didn’t exist all the while your parents carried on with their regular scheduled programming downstairs – but your parents weren’t dumb, nor were they naïve. Surely, your mother would offer to come up and root around for whatever it was he lied and said you had before she would inevitably have to wake you up in order to deliver the goods to the lying Loomis.

Your anger pulsed as realization dawned on you.

You had to go downstairs.

“Did you say something?” You asked, feigning innocence as you pushed your door open and made your way down, barely glancing at Billy who still stood in your entryway. “What are you doing here?”

Billy licked his lips. “I, uh, wanted to swing by and pick up the book for our English assignment. I think you must have grabbed mine, too, when you were putting your stuff away.”

“Nope,” you shrugged, “I don’t have it.”

Billy awkwardly smiled across at your parents before looking back at you. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you replied coolly. “Maybe you left it at Sid’s house?”

His shoulders briefly fell at your tone and, for a split second, you felt your heart fall into your stomach. You knew you were hurting him with the callousness of your words, but you had to stick to your guns this time around for your own sanity.

“Guess I must have misplaced it,” he wryly admitted. “Sorry for the intrusion, Mrs. Y/L/N.” His eyes flickered to you. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You nodded, prepared to watch him leave, but before he could get a foot out of the door, your mother stopped him.

“Wait, Billy,” she ran out of the living room and into the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone for all of three seconds before she shuffled back in. “Here,” she held out a dish packed to the brim with Shepard’s Pie. “I know your dad’s been working a lot of late nights so dinner’s might not be the most well-balanced, but a growing boy has to eat.”

Feeding the enemy. Typical.

“Y/N made it,” she bragged, unwittingly fanning the flames of annoyance in your chest. “It’s delicious, too.”

Touched, Billy grabbed the Tupperware container from your mom before glancing at you. He knew you could cook, you’d cooked for him several times in the span of your friendship – long before the two of you began…doing whatever it was you were doing – but as he accepted the container, there was an emotion there that was much too raw and real for you to try and decompress.

You realized, slowly, that your mother’s offering of Shepard’s Pie was probably the first time a maternal figure had paid him any mind since his own mother had walked out on him all those months back.

Your stomach dropped at the thought.

“Y/N is a great cook,” he agreed. This time, his voice was much quieter. “And thank you again, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

Once again, you watched him turn on his heel to leave the house but, with that niggling feeling of guilt twisting inside of your belly, you opened your mouth before you could so much as think to stop yourself.

“I’ll walk you out,” you muttered, flashing your mother a fleeting smile. “Be right back.”

Slipping on some shoes, you ignored Billy’s obviously surprised face as he lingered in the doorway before finally looking across at him. “Let’s go.”

The night was brisk as the two of you strolled towards his car in silence. You shivered absentmindedly as your pajamas offered no real sense of protection from the chill before glancing at Billy. Naturally, his eyes were already on you.

���Do you think your mother’s watching us right now?”

“Knowing her?” You shrugged. “Probably.”

He swallowed hard. “We should talk about what happened.”

“No,” you shook your head, “I know what happened. You saw Steve touch me and got irrationally jealous over it and, rather than deal with it like a grown man, you punched him and he lost his fucking tooth.”

A flicker of anger crossed over his handsome features. “It’s not that simple, Y/N, he—”

“That is probably the only simple thing about our little situation, Billy,” you acknowledged quietly. “You got jealous and you punched a guy. Doesn’t get simpler than that.”

“He deserved it,” he argued. “He’s a moron and shouldn’t have touched you. Do you know how hard it is to see that and not defend you the way I wanted to while it was happening?”

“Defend me?” You sneered. “Or stake your claim on me? No offence, Billy, but the entire male population of our school could ask me on a date tomorrow, and you’d have no fucking say in the matter. Whether they touch me or ask me out or anything, because you and I aren’t a thing.”

Billy chewed on his bottom lip as his grip on the Tupperware tightened considerably. “Yes, we are.” His voice was eerily calm despite the panic surging through his chest. “I love you, I told you that at the cornfield and I meant it. I fucking love you, Y/N.”

“You did,” you said, “and my feelings haven’t changed but you can’t be blind to the fact that this isn’t working, Billy. You getting jealous over me getting unwanted attention from a guy all the while expecting me to sit there and watch you and Sid flaunt your shit all over town?” You could feel your eyes begin to water as your emotions got the better of you, but you wouldn’t cry in front of him. You wouldn’t dare. “I’m supposed to sit there and trust what you’re telling me. That you will break up with Sid, that you do love me, that, if things were different, it would be me you’d be with and only me. But one guy squeezes my thigh and you lose your shit? Where’s the fucking sense in that?”

“I fucked up,” Billy admitted, his bravado long gone. “I see that now, I fucked up. But --”

“But,” you scoffed. “See, there it is. An excuse. I don’t want your excuses anymore, Billy. I want you and while I thought that was enough, I’m seeing it’s not that easy anymore. Not if you get to act like this unhinged asshole whenever I get a sliver of attention.”

You watched Billy’s eyes search your face as his hands trembled. He wanted to reach out and cradle your face, you could tell that much, but – tale as old as time – with an audience, even if it was just a possibility that it was your mother, he remained still. “Don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice shaky. “Please. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sosorry.”

“I just think we need to take some time away from each other,” you muttered. “For our own sanity.”

“No,” Billy argued, stepping towards you in desperation. “No, Y/N, I need you. Please don’t do this.”

“I think you need to either make a decision with Sid or be more open with me about what the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours. You can’t go around punching people because you get jealous, Billy. And, until you figure your shit out, I think we should stop this. Whatever this is between us.”

“It’s a relationship,” Billy’s brows furrowed in outrage. “Two people who fucking love each other is a relationship, Y/N.”

A sad smile broke out across your face as you stared up at the starry sky above you. “Two people who love each other but can’t show it. Who have to hide whenever people are around in fear or being seen as anything more than good pals.” You shook your head and met his frenzied stare. “That’s not a relationship, Billy. That’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.” You sniffed and gestured down to the Tupperware in his hands. “Enjoy your food. I’m going back inside now, and I meant what I said. We need some time apart so, please, don’t come around here anymore. At least not until…” you let the sentence hang in the air, unsure of your next few words.

“Until what?” He was clinging to your every word but there was an anger so palpable radiating off of him that made you take a small step back. “Until you decide that you don’t want me anymore? Walk away and leave me like my mother did?”

You cocked your head to the side and hoped like hell the hurt you felt at that accusation didn’t directly show on your face. “If you truly think I would do that, Billy, then we’re even more fucked up than I thought.” You sniffed and began to turn back to your house. “I have a lot of faith in you, Billy, and a whole hell of a lot of trust. It’s about time you showed me that same consideration.”

The raw emotion on his face was jarring and almost made you hang back long enough to console him like you would any other time, but you couldn’t. If he couldn’t trust you, what the hell hope did either of you have at this becoming a real thing? Walking back to your house, your heart broke and any emotion you fought so desperately to keep down began to bubble to the surface. But you wouldn’t break down though, at least not yet.

You always had your cards on the table when it came to Billy Loomis and it was about time that he started showing his, as well.

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 1: Paper Planes

A/N: Hey guys!! Here is the first chapter of the fic, “Devil’s Advocate”!!! I’m excited about this, and writing it is getting me through a lot right now, so I hope you all enjoy it too! Here ya go :)

Summary: After a traumatic experience, you are forced back into the field with Neil, but the mission is personal and possibly too close for home for you to handle. Neil helps you through it, but you’re not sure if you can get the job done.

Warnings: Violence, guns, death, drowning, injuries, angst, cursing, and yes, luckily some fluff :)

Word Count: 4,405

The weight of your cold, dark black glock settles heavily into your right hand as you pick it up off the table to your left. You secure a pair of noise cancelling headphones around the top of your head. You load the gun and cock it. 

The headphones blast with music, helping you to concentrate on the man-shaped target in front of you.

Everyone’s a winner, we’re making our fame.

Bonafide hustler making my name.

 You extend your gun out in front of you as you shut your left eye tightly to aim. 

All I wanna do is…

BANG BANG BANG BANG 

And uh, and take your money. 

You lower the gun as the target pushes forward towards you. You can’t help but smile confidently as you look at the deep hole you made in center of the paper man. You reach to take it down, but a warm hand grabs onto your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, freezing you in place.

The hand twists your body slightly, just enough to make you turn around. You reach up to the top of your head and slip your off headphones, letting them rest around your neck. 

A charming, wild grin pulls at Neil’s lips as his gaze meets yours. “That was bloody incredible!” He shouts. There’s a bright flash of excitement in his eyes. His hands gesture towards the hole you made in the wall. You had aimed perfectly, shooting in the exact same spot each time you pulled the trigger. 

“Thanks,” You say back as your cheeks flush with heat despite the boost of confidence rushing through your veins from Neil’s praise. A compliment from Neil means a lot to you, even though you’ve known him for years. He was your closest friend and made sure to tell you the truth, even when it hurt. That honesty grounded you in the chaos of your life. He was a constant, a steadfast star in your sky. 

Neil chuckles a bit as his eyes look down to the headphones hanging around your neck. You don’t hear how loud your music still is. Your mind is too focused on the sound of Neil’s laugh. 

M.I.A Third World Democracy

Yeah I got more records than the KGB

So uh, no funny business!

“A bit loud, isn’t it?” Neil laughs again as he steps closer to you. He brings his hands to the back of your neck, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he grabs the headphones and slips them off of you. 

That smile, You think before mentally slapping yourself across the face. Snap the fuck out of it. 

Your feelings for him were always at the back of your throat, clawing for supremacy, climbing up to the tip of your tongue, threatening to force your mouth open to spill your guts. Somehow, even after all these years, you were able to hold back. Maybe it was because you didn’t need more than what you had with him. That was an absolute lie. Maybe it was because he never belonged to anyone else. There was no need to be jealous. Maybe it was because there was a certain, silent promise of belonging to each other despite the lack of an official relationship.

That was more like it. 

Neil puts the headphones back on the table as the next song plays. The absurdly loud riff of the guitar pulls you back into reality. 

Fell in love with a girl,

I fell in love once and I almost completely.

She’s in love with the world

But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading. 

Blushing again, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to press the pause button. The music stops and you smile shyly. A creeping sense of embarrassment crawls into your stomach. You were beyond happy that Neil was able to see you in your element, and usually his presence made you feel good, but his attention was overwhelming at times. Now, the confidence that settled in before had been sucked from your soul and replaced with a racing heart and a cluttered mind. 

You push thoughts of Neil to the back of your head. “So what’s up?” You ask, setting the gun on the table next to your headphones. You casually slip your hands into the pockets of your baggy jeans. You mentally acknowledge that you may be overdoing the whole ‘playing it cool’ thing in front of Neil, possibly even to the point that he might be able to see straight through your act. 

“Well,” Neil pauses. His hand moves to the back of his neck. “I’ve got some news,” Neil says finally, his smirk falling from his lips. Your heart skips a beat. He looks unbelievably nervous. His brows furrow cautiously, knowing his next words are going to achieve some sort of poor reaction from you. 

You gulp anxiously and nod. “W-what is it?” You stutter as you predict the words Neil is about to say. 

I can’t fucking do this, not yet. 

Neil steps closer to you and grabs your hand in his. The touch was familiar but still shocked you to your very core, your nerves tingly frantically under his fingers. 

Please don’t say it, please don’t fucking say it. 

Neil’s voice is quiet in anticipation of your panic. “The boss, he wants you back in the field…” Neil trails off, continuing on about something in London, something about him going with you. You feel your chest tightening. You’re not listening anymore. You’re too focused on what happened last time, too focused on the trauma, too focused on the tears, the shouts, the deaths. 

“NO!” You scream, your long, HDM hung heavily in your hand. The lifeless body of a new recruit crashes to the floor. 

You raise up your arm and cock the gun. You’re ready to aim and shoot, but two large men grab your hands. Your gun falls to the ground with a clatter. 

The man with the dark hair cackles cacophonously. He shakes his head, his piercing emerald eyes dissolving your soul as he picks a new body to hold roughly in his arms. A revolver presses tightly against the person’s head. You can’t tell exactly who it is, as there’s a burlap sack covering their face. There are 8 other people in a semi circle, each appearing the same as the last, tied up in a chair with a burlap sack hiding their identity. 

“What?” He shouted barbarically, his voice echoing against the silver, metal walls of the chamber. “You think your fucking screams can get you out of this?” He grinned maliciously, licking his lips as he cocked the gun. Tears roll down your cheeks. 

You are helpless. 

You are useless.

“(Y/N),” The voice of the person cries out, knowing that their fate is already sealed. It was a woman’s voice, and you felt a bit guilty as you prayed to God that it wasn’t Wheeler.

BANG! 

The lifeless body slumps into the chair. You whimper, stifling a sob in the back of your throat. 

The man with the dark hair moves onto his next victim. You struggle, trying to shake off the two men holding you back. You look around the room, searching for something, anything to get you out of this. 

The man’s face lights up with malignant excitement, sensing that his next kill would hurt you the most. 

Fuck, no no no no no, You think to yourself. You could recognize those stupid, posh little black dress shoes anywhere. You knew the curves of his body, the shape of his hands. Blood dripped down his neck from the cut on his forehead he had gotten earlier. 

Neil.

“Please,” You beg. “Don’t touch him. Just kill me instead.” 

The man with the dark hair only grins more widely now. “Darling,” He snarls. You cringe at his use of the nickname. Neil usually was the one to call you that. “Your begging only makes this more fun for me. In fact, it makes me want to kill you even less, just so you have to live with the image of everyone you care for dying in front of your very eyes for the rest of your life.” His cold words send shivers down your spine. 

He maneuvers differently around Neil, as he grabs the bottom of the burlap sack and removes it from his face. 

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. You heart feels like it’s being stepped on as it sinks deeply to the bottom of your chest. You can barely breathe now. You huff, trying to keep your sanity, trying to find a way out of this fucking mess. 

“I figured you would want to watch the life drain from his pretty little face, (Y/N),” The man retorts. You shake your head violently. You look left to right, searching for some sort of weakness in the two large men that were keeping you in place. You notice a brace around the knee of the man on your right. 

Thank God for shorts, You think to yourself. 

The man with the dark hair raises the revolver to Neil’s right temple. 

“(Y/N),” Neil mutters. “I l-,”

Before Neil can get his last words out, you raise your right leg, bending it in and snapping it out at the back of the man’s knees, launching him forward. With your right hand now free, you sucker punch the man to your left square in the nose. You round house him in the stomach, sending him backwards. You grab your gun off the floor and aim it back to the man with the dark hair. 

The man chuckles evilly. “You shoot me, and I shoot him. It’s really as simple as that.” Your heart pounds in your chest. 

An idea suddenly dawns upon you. You shift subtly enough so that the man doesn’t catch on to your train of thought. The gun is already cocked, all you need to do is pull the trigger.

BANG! 

“Fuck!” The man cries out, stumbling forwards into the center of the semi circle as he releases Neil from his grasp. His gun falls to the floor. You turn away sharply at the realization that you blew his hand off. 

You run over to Neil first, quickly untying his hands and setting him free. He starts untying everyone else and you walk over the the man with the dark hair. You catch a quick glimpse of Wheeler, and sigh in relief that she’s safe. 

You breathe in hard and part your lips. “Don’t you dare ever fuck with me or my team again,” You pause, kicking the man in your ribs. There’s something extremely personal about your tone.  He grunts in response. “Now tell me where Edgar is keeping the weapons. And tell me where the fuck the lab is, you prick.” 

He chuckles, breathing shallowly. “Prick?” He pronounces the word articulately. “That’s no way to address your uncle.”

“Fucking answer my question ass hat!” You shout, aiming your gun at his head. With another swift kick to the stomach, he curls up in a ball, clutching at his core. You cock your gun again, ready to shoot. Neil rushes to your side, giving you a look that implored you to let him finish before you blew his brains out. 

“F-fine,” He stutters. “It’s in London.” He gives you a set of coordinates, and Neil takes them down. “I suppose I should tell your father that you’re calling him by his first name now, hm?” 

“No, you won’t be getting the chance to,” You say. 

You pull the trigger. 

BANG!

You hear someone in the distance calling your name. 

Two slender, toned arms wrap around your back, resting on your waist as they pull you into an embrace. The smell of Neil’s musky, cinnamon and citrus cologne heightens your senses and brings you back down to Earth. 

Your breathing slows down a good deal as you press your face into Neil���s chest. His right hand comes up to the nape of your neck, and he begins to rake his long fingers through your hair. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” Neil whispers in your ear. 

You swallow roughly. “No,” You say without even needing to think. “I’m not ready yet. I can’t leave Headquarters yet. I’m just not ready.” You feel tears begin to swell in your eyes and you bite down on your lip, hoping to keep them at bay. It had only been a month since you had killed your own uncle. He was a piece of shit, but that didn’t make the situation much easier to deal with. 

It had only been a week since you watched two of your friends die. That part may have been the hardest for you to swallow. 

Neil shakes his head and breaks away from you bit, just enough to get a good look at you. “You’re ready, (Y/N).” His voice is calm and reassuring. “And unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. We have to leave for the airport in,” Neil pauses, checking his silver watch, “45 minutes.” 

“W-what?” You gasp. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“I just found out a few minutes ago,” Neil admits. “If I knew earlier, I would’ve told you.”

You nod, believing him entirely. “So we’re going to London? To the coordinates?” You ask, looking up into Neil’s ocean eyes. You could feel yourself beginning to drown in them, just as you always were. 

Neil simply nods back. He rests a hand on the center of your chest, feeling your heartbeat quicken with anxiety. “It’s just going to be you and I for a few days, and then everyone else will join when we confront…” He doesn’t same his name. He doesn’t want to make you panic again. But you know exactly who he means. 

Your father. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of him. 

“It’ll be okay,” Neil’s comforting tone relaxes you a bit. “I won’t leave your side for a second,” He adds. You sigh audibly in relief. 

You let a single tear slide down your cheek. “Thank you,” You whisper. 

Neil pulls you into his chest again. “Anything for you,” Neil responds. You shudder at his words. Sometimes you could swear that he didn’t only see you as his best friend, but something more. 

You let the ideas ruminate and run freely in your mind for a few seconds before shooing them away like pesky little children. 

You take a step back, allowing a small space to fill between the two of you. “I guess I should go pack now.” 

Neil instinctively closes the gap again. You can tell  that he’s worried you’ll break down, and you hate it, but his support feels nice. “Do you want me to go with you? I’ve been told I’m good company.” He grins and sends a wink in your direction.

The corner of your mouth turns up a bit into a half smile, and you let out a small giggle. He always had a way of making you smile, of making you feel good. 

“Nah,” You say, smiling fully now. “I’ll be alright by myself.”

Neil nods and smiles back. “Alright. I’ll meet you in the lobby at two o’clock,” Neil says. His smile turns into a smug smirk, and he turns his back to you. His dress shoes tap against the floor as he walks away. 

“Make sure to bring that silk pajama set you wore that time we went undercover in Monte Carlo,” He calls finally, wagging his pointer finger in the air. “I liked it.” 

You felt heat rising in your cheeks at his words. You almost tripped over the completely flat ground as Neil’s chuckle echoed down the hallway. 

————

You clutched the handle of your suitcase in your hands. You let it dangle in front of your legs, nervously bouncing it with your knees every few seconds. Your eyes searched the lobby for a head of fluffy blonde hair, but it was nowhere to be seen. You glance up to the analog clock above the front door. 

1:59. You were early. You were always early, for everything. Being late made you too anxious. You never wanted to miss a beat. 

The clock ticked 45 more times, and you counted each second. Finally, the sound of dress shoes echoed from down the hall. You looked past the reception desk to see Neil carrying a leather duffle bag in his right hand, and a bottle of water in his left. 

He smiled, releasing your butterflies from their cage inside your stomach as he finally reached your side. You open your mouth to say something, but Neil cuts you off.

“Don’t try to tell me I’m late,” Neil remarks sardonically, his eyes drifting off of you and onto the analog clock. “You’re just always early.” His smirk tugs at your heart, and you can’t help but smirk back. 

“I wasn’t going to say you were late!” You playfully smack his arm with your hand. “I was just going to tell you to be earlier next time.” 

Neil grins and shakes his head. He brings his hand up to the small of your back and brushes lightly. Outside the front doors, underneath the awning, a sleek, jet black town car pulls up. You feel your breath hitch in your throat at the realization that it was time.

This was it. 

Neil looks to you. “Are you ready?” His voice is reserved, almost as if he was scared to ask the question in the first place. 

You nod once. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” You swallow your fear and let Neil guide you out the doors. He grabs your duffle bag out of your hand, and opens the already popped trunk, carefully placing the luggage inside. You go to open the door, but Neil beats you to it. 

“I can open doors you know,” You say sarcastically, glaring disapprovingly in his direction. 

Neil doesn’t seem to care. “A thank you would be nice, love,” Neil says, shooting a charming smile in your direction. His hand is still holding the door open for you. You step inside the car and look up at Neil. 

“Thank you Neil,” You say mockingly. Neil smiles slyly and closes the door. 

The car ride to the airport is relatively uneventful. Neil gave you the run down. He told you your cover, where you were staying, and the overall gist of the mission. 

“So we’re married?” You ask, making sure you had heard that part of the plan right and hadn’t dreamt it up from a fantasy.

Neil smiles and nods. “We’re newlyweds, traveling the world together one city at a time.”  There’s a whimsy in his voice, almost as if he’s telling a fairytale. You can’t help but chuckle a bit, despite the anxiety growing in your stomach. 

The car turns onto an exit ramp, and suddenly the airport is in plain sight. You shiver a bit, feeling the air around you growing colder and colder. You check the temperature gauge at the front of the car, and notice that he hasn’t changed at all. You wrap your arms around your chest, rubbing up and down along your body, hoping to warm up. 

Neil’s smile fades away as he furrows his brows in concern. He wraps his right arm around your shoulders. You jump at the sudden warmth. 

“Are you alright?” He asks as he brings his other arm up to wrap around you completely. 

Your anxiety is begging you to tell him no. “Yeah, I’ll be okay,” You lie. Neil doesn’t buy it, and rightfully so. 

Neil squeezes you tightly. “I know you’re not okay, you don’t need to lie to me,” He whispers. “I’m here for you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Your eyes begin to well up, and a single tear rolls down your cheek. “Alright,” You sigh, wiping the tear away. You sniffle a bit, trying to clear your head in the process. The car rolls to a stop. “I’m ready whenever you are,” You say, trying to seem more confident than you actually were. 

You open the door and slip out. The chaos of the outside of the airport takes you aback, despite the fact you had been in an airport millions of times before. Neil steps out behind you, and goes over to the trunk. He takes the luggage out and steps towards to you. You stare up at the massive building, petrified to enter. 

Neil ticks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “There’s not much time, (Y/N). We have to go inside now,” He says, his gaze staring into the side of your head. You refuse to meet his eyes, you’re too focused on the building, the mission, the future. 

After a few seconds, you nod to Neil and walk into the airport. You and Neil only have one duffle bag each, and thus you could skip checking in any bags. He guides you over to security, which happened to be a breeze. 

A short walk later, you approach the gate. There was a line of people waiting to enter, and you and Neil shuffled to the back of it. A few minutes later, a nice steward scanned your ticket. 

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Ryan, you’ll be in row 2, seats A and B. Have a nice flight,” He smiles, and gestures for you to enter the bridge to the plane. 

Your heartbeat quickens as you take small steps. “N-Neil,” You stutter as you reach to center of the bridge. “I can’t do this. I really can’t do this. I mean it. I-I’m sorry I just can’t.” Panic is heavy in your voice. It feels as though the walls are closing in on you. 

Neil puts the luggage down and brings you to the side of the bridge. He pushes strands of your hair out of your eyes. “It’s going to be okay,” Neil reassures. “You can do this. I’m said I’m not going anywhere, and I meant that.” 

Neil picks the luggage back up, and guides you through the entrance of the plane and to your seat. You hesitantly sit down, quickly placing your hand on the armrest, wondering if there’s still time for you to run out of the door and back to headquarters. To your dismay, you watch the doors of the plane begin to shut. Neil wasn’t kidding before when he said there wasn’t much time. 

He stores the luggage in the overhead compartment, and takes his place next to you. He notices that you’re still shaking, and he places his hand on top of yours and brushes your skin lightly with his thumb. 

A comfortable silence rests gently between you and Neil as his hand remains on top of yours. Sometimes words aren’t necessary. You can get the idea of what someone means by their actions alone.

A few moments later, the captain makes an announcement, followed by a series of other voices sharing information. You're too wrapped up in your thoughts to pay attention to anything they have to say. Before you know it, the plane begins to move down the tarmac. It gains speed, and suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted in the air.

You shiver again, the anxiety becoming too much to handle. You try to ease into your seat in an attempt to calm down, but to no avail. You’re petrified and uncomfortable, a terrible duo of emotions to be faced with simultaneously.

Suddenly, you feel Neil’s warm hand leave yours. You watch in confusion as he lifts the armrest up, tucking it in between the seats. He lifts his arm, and wraps it around your shoulder, just like he had done in the car, and so many countless times before. You accept the invitation willingly, and snuggle into his side. 

Minutes later, you’re fast asleep in Neil’s arms. 

———

An evil chuckle echoes against the concrete and spreads down to the grassy beach below. “There’s no saving him now, (Y/N)!” A man shouts from the top of an overpass. 

You look down and watch as a familiar figure waves their arms frantically underwater, trying to swim up to the surface, but they can’t. There’s a brick tied around each of their angles. Their dirty blonde hair floats freely in the water as they continue to sink to the bottom.

“N-Neil!” You shout, trying to step forward to dive in after him. But your stuck, tied against a chair, guarded by two large men. “Please, please stop this!”

The man laughs, ignoring your pleas. “This is what you get, (Y/N). You’re worthless, and you fucking know it. Don’t you ever forget it, darling.” 

You shake side to side. The chair tumbles over and you fall into the dark, black, cold water. Your nerves are shot by the shock of the frigidness, and you can’t move. 

“Neil!” You gargle, left to watch as he sinks to the bottom of the lake. “Neil!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Neil!”

“(Y/N)?” 

Your eyes shoot open and you practically jump out of your seat. Your seatbelt pushes you down, keeping held tightly. You’re trembling. You can’t breathe at all. 

“(Y/N),” Neil repeats. “It was just a nightmare, you’re okay.” He wraps his arms around you, bringing you tightly into his chest. 

You bury your face into his white shirt, sobbing softly. His right hand reaches up to the nape of your neck, his fingers gently combing through your hair. 

“I’m so sorry,” Neil whispers, his voice filled with kindness. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” 

You whimper into his chest as pain explodes in your heart. “What am I going to do?” You mutter. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Neil says, his kind tone persisting in each word he utters. “I’ve got you, it’ll be okay.”

It needed to be okay. You needed to be okay. You couldn’t risk any fuck ups, not this time. This was real. This was life or death. 

This was the end of the world. 

Or at least it could be. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him for what he’s done to you,” Neil states, the kindness in his voice is replaced with anger and frustration. “I’m going to kill Edgar, I swear.” 

You shake your head against his chest. “No…

“Leave that part up to me.”

>>> Chapter 2

[funky1town]

fantasy world loki x asgardian! reader (pt 2.)

summary: with an attack on Asgard and each fighting for their people, the two become separated, constantly thinking of their other half

word count: 4.2k

warnings: angst, gore

part 1

Loki’s night with Zolanari fortunately didn’t last long. In fact, their time was cut so short that they didn’t even make it to the bedroom. It wasn’t long till a guard abruptly approached him in the empty halls, the mans footsteps echoing with urgency.

“Prince Loki,” the guard bowed out of breath, “The Allfather requests your immediate presence,”

Loki looked behind him, only a few feet from his door, “Can’t it wait?”

The guard swallowed and shook his head, beads of sweat forming on his hairline, “There’s been an attack,”

Loki’s face hardened as he let go of Zolanari. Now, if he listened, he could hear the distant sounds of feet running, a scream here and there.

He could only think of one person in that moment.

“Very well,” Loki nodded, “Go to your station,”

As the guard began to sprint down the halls, Loki followed, casting his armor upon him.

“Loki!”

He turned to Zolanari as he continued to walk backwards.

There’s no time to lose he thought. Her. I must get to her.

“Where will I go!”

Her golden dress was bunched together in her hands, reflecting the colors of the golden walls. He thought of the future bodies that will lay on these grounds in the morning, the families that will be separated and the lives he will have to take tonight.

The jewels that hung from her body, the innocence in her eyes. Nothing but a life of happy memories that shaped her, made her the woman she is today.

He could never love her he realized.

“Hide in my room, go fight with the others, I don’t care,”

“So you are leaving me?” she cried.

Loki shook his head and turned around once more, “I cant be there for you Z. We’re warriors, not children,”

He was sure that she spoke something after him, a blurb of obscenities that would diminish his ego, a jab on how Thor is the better brother. All words from her mouth had turned into white noise. He couldn’t care to look back, see which fate she had decided. He could only think of her.

Did she run for the gardens he wondered, the one place they would seek shelter when they were younger. Maybe Frigga had seen her, taken her in with the royals because even his own mother knows how deeply he cares. He didn’t dare think of the latter option that was running through his head.

This hadn’t been the first time Asgard had been attacked. One of the many attempts of other nations trying to control the nine realms.

Each time, the two friends have found solace in each other, always side by side if the attack ever reached their area. It’s different now, he ponders.

With age and responsibilities, he’s expected to fight rather then hide. Protect instead of cower. He still remembers when they were little and he would become frightened at the dangers of power shifting.

She would reach into her pocket, the silent rustle creating the only sound in the dimly lit room. In her hand was a golden pendant, a necklace she would hold out to him.

“My mom once told me this gives you eternal safety. The power from the warriors before who wore this around their necks and fought in decade long battles,”

Loki reached out towards her and wrapped the pendant around his hand, softly stroking the engraved designs, “Do you really believe in that?” he whispered.

She kept her eyes trained on the necklace, noticing the gentleness in his touch. She shrugged, “I believed in my mom,”

A foolish night he thought. A waste of time in his remaining days on Asgard.

If he would of just stayed back in the comfort of his own room, the fireplace lit, the distant sounds of the ball from below, none of this would be happening. She would’ve already been with him, their bodies resting in-front of one another’s as they practiced magic together, warmly lit by the fire. Her assured safety would’ve been sealed, a promise that would ease his worries.

As he appeared closer to the throne room, voices grew louder as Asgardian’s were ushered by guards down the halls, couples clutched to one another, children’s cries being silenced by their mothers arms. 

His eyes scanned the crowd frantically, a wildness behind them. He couldn’t miss her, he began to think. He’d notice her from a mile away, in a crowd of thousands. She just had that special spark to her.

Even tonight during the ball, in a room that is suffocating to all senses, he had seen her. Dressed in the same uniform he’d witness her bear everyday, the same hair she tucked away under gray fabrics, he noticed her the minute she walked through those grand doors. 

He had seen her every single day. Same clothes, same attitude, same smile. And not once did he grow tired of her. It was the one thing in his life he was sure of he realized. 

He bet that no one even noticed the small gold earrings that hung around her frame at the ball tonight. A small action of defiance, a small gesture of luxury, and a whole lot of her. 

As his eyes frantically searched the crowd, a familiar face appeared in his vision, bringing him back to reality. 

“Nan!”

The old woman stopped abruptly and turned towards the source. Loki had been a big part of her life just as much as Y/N, considering the two were never seen without the other. He remembered for his birthday once, when Asgard was at war and too busy to celebrate, Nan requested Loki’s favorite food from the kitchen staff, bringing the two for a picnic at the cliff side.

“Loki!” her face was tense, her frail gray hairs falling wildly out of her bun. A young girl was clutched to her side as tears streamed down her face. 

He rushed towards the pair and held onto the woman before him. Even despite Nan’s constant appearance around the palace, always bent over, scrubbing another corner, the woman was quite old and always needing assistance according to Y/N, “Are you alright? Where’s Y/N?”

She sighed heavily, looking behind her and holding the little girl closer, “I saw her for a brief moment. She was with all the other maids I - I don’t know where...” she shook her head, furious tears running down her face. Looking down to the girl below her she caught her breath, “She lost her parents, I -”

“It’s okay,” Loki interrupted in a soft tone, quickly guiding Nan and the girl towards the throne room, “Come with me you’ll be okay,”

The closer they got, the more the screams grew. The more bodies he imagined to be buried tomorrow. The little girls whimpers grew louder as Nan’s footsteps began too slow.  

“Loki?” Nan softly cried. He looked towards her, sorrow and regret settled upon her face. In her hands, she nervously played with small gold earrings.

Her earrings. 

“I don’t know where she went,”

Loki clenched his jaw and turned away, the grip on his staff tightening. 

“I’ll find her.”

****

Her heart continued to pound ever since the blast. 

One second she was serving Frigga her drink, the next she was wrapped around her frame, ducked under a table.

Blood continued to drip from her hairline, a sure few rocks digging in her skin.

“What were they?” Aldis huffed, one of her dear friends. She thought of how they used to play tag in these same halls together. Now they were running for their lives, five more killers now on their tail.

Y/N grabbed onto the shirt of another maid, quickly turning her around, “This way,” she nodded. 

She guessed there was about eight of them now, running in a tight knit group. Two girls she recognized from the kitchen, the man next to her Odin’s tailor. The guards had told them there wasn’t enough room in the hideouts for staff. And Odin dragged Frigga away before she could take Y/N’s hand.

They were on their own. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N panted. “I didn’t get a good lo-” 

Out of nowhere, an arrow wizzed past her, landing into the golden beam in front of them. They all screeched to a halt, only a few daring to look back.

Rounding the corner were five hideous beasts, all heavily armed with weapons that swung with each stomp. Dark blood painted the surfaces of the artillery, deep scars littering the skins of the animals in front of them. They showed no sign of stopping. 

“Fuck,” she muttered.

It’s alright, Y/N thought, building up her courage. Loki trained me for this. All those early mornings, sneaking away from the palace. He always wanted her to be his equal.

Well this was her chance.

“Okay go, go, go!” she exclaimed, gathering the group in-front of her and pushing them forward. 

Reaching into her pocket, she quickly pulled out her key, the ‘L’ engraved on it still showing,“In here,” she whispered.

As they all scrambled inside, she tried to push down the fear rising to her throat, booming footsteps growing closer and closer. But it was the ear defining screech of metal against wall that made her want to cry in her mom’s arms.

When the last of them had gotten inside and Y/N still hadn't seeked safety, Aldis stood up slowly, “Y/N...”

There were tears on her face as she looked to the side, her hands clutched to the door.

“Now’s not the time to be a hero Y/N,” Aldis cried.

She laughed sadly, smiling at her dear friend. 

Blue, Y/N thought.

She had blue eyes.

“Someone has to lock the door Aldis,”

Someone has to lead them away. 

“Locking the door won't matte-”

She closed the door before she could hear her one last time. She’d never been very good at goodbyes. 

Aldis was right, locking the door wouldn’t matter. The beast that rounded the corner held a five foot hammer while the one that came after had blood smeared on its chest. Still didn’t stop her from chucking the key over the terrace below them, letting it fall into the unknown.

She breathed deeply, sticking her chest out, not daring to let her voice waver, “You want Asgardian blood?” she shouted, bringing the beasts to a stop, “Come get it!”

One of the beasts slowly stepped forward, snarling its hideous teeth as it grumbled out in an unknown language. Y/N studied them all carefully as another smiled.

“He says,” it growled, voice deep and distorted, “Where are your friends?”

The rest smiled in unison, blood dripping from their mouths as they did so, littering the floors she had just scrubbed this morning. 

She swallowed deeply, digging her nails into the palm of her hand. Could that be Nan’s blood she wondered. Loki’s even? Had they found safety in the rooms she could not enter, or are they just as lost as she. 

A small part of her screamed that they were still alive, that she must continue to fight for the one’s she loves. Her whole life, all she has known, was to protect Loki. Many times she’d questioned if her love for him would be any different if he wasn’t all she’s known. 

In this moment now, with her life on the line, she decides it wouldn’t be.

What’s protecting him one more time?

“You want them?” she growled, “You’ll have to catch me,”

****

It had been three hours since the attack, his father describing the creatures as ancient beasts. For what they lacked in brains, they made up for in calvary. Thousands of them swarmed around Asgard, all broken into clusters attacking the main east and west wing.

He had lost his helmet hours ago, the horns probably shattered by the shear size of the weapons they were dealing with. Blood stained his knives as his energy depleted, his magic becoming less and less prevalent.

Each room they entered, each hall they fought in, he would whisper her name, unlock every door. Some doors led to a few helpless Asgardian’s, other were a beast in hiding.

None of them were her.

Grunting, he pulled a dagger out of the monsters chest, wiping the blood on his leather. Checking his surroundings, he saw one of the soldiers opening a door at the end of the hallway. With a steady face he shook his head towards Loki.

The pit in his stomach only grew.

Looking around at the soldiers in-front of him, he thought about how many of them had lovers waiting. If they too, were thinking the same self destructing thoughts he was. Here Loki was, putting his own problems ahead of their own, a narcissistic plea for the safety of another.

He was sure they weren’t as special as his own. None of them had that same spark.

His thoughts were cut short when the sound of bells rang. Once, twice, three times. If one was lucky, they would look to the skies and see the darkened purple vessel gearing away, far from the carnage they left behind.

He heard the sounds of metal clanging to the floor, the sighs of relief from the warriors left. Some were heavily injured, one woman with a deep gash in her side, being tended to by another soldier. At this point he would return to the throne room, discuss with his father the next course of action and if Asgard would engage in war or meet halfway.

In this moment though, he couldn’t seem to care less about what happened, of what his father had to say, of how many Asgardian’s were slaughtered. Across the courtyard he saw a family slowly crawling out a door, a child sound asleep in its mothers arms. The sun had just started to rise as the man held his wife in his embrace, her body shaking with cries. Through her tears she looked ahead towards Loki, darkness behind her eyes, flashes of the night before more visible then the stars above.

He promised to hold Y/N once he found her. Even longer than the man infront of him. He promised he would take all her fears away.

With a quick nod of assurance towards the woman, he turned on his heel and headed down the halls, retracing his steps towards her.

He walked past multiple beasts, all strewn across the golden floors, pools of blood painting them red. It dawned on him who would be scrubbing these floors the next few days, a constant reminder of the fear they all must of ran from.

He needed to remember to fake a sickness that week .

As he ran down the grand stairs below him, he caught sight of blonde hair.

“Aldis!”

The woman snapped her head towards Loki, the group around her stopping. His steps became even faster as he reached the bottom, desperately grabbing onto the woman’s shoulders. The sight of him made her cry again, already stained tears littering her cheeks.

“Where’s Y/N? Did you see her? Is she okay?”

Aldis shook her head, shaky breaths as she held onto his arms for dear life, “She -“ the woman’s voice betrayed her, breaths too shallow as she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head furiously as if to rid her plagued mind of the bloodshed, “She closed the door I… I couldn’t stop her,”

He pulled himself out of her hold, stepping back. What does she mean? Where are the simple answers he was hoping for?

She made it into safety with the royals, she took us to the gardens in your secret hideout, she is completely and utterly safe.

Where were those answers, that blanket of reassurance?

“Where is she?” he asked again, his voice lower and dangerously quiet. Never before has his heart beat so fast, not in battles not even around her presence. He was sure if adrenaline wasn’t coursing through his veins he’d be panicking, out of breath and gasping for air.

Aldis pointed to the right, “We came from there,” she spoke, leading Loki immediately to stalking towards that path. It felt like he was walking to his death, years of bad karma finally cycling back to the beginning.

It was a long corridor, filled with countless rooms and places to hide. He remembered telling her to run here if she was ever in trouble, the secret bookshelf hideout being behind one of these doors. Infront of him was a long arrow, wedged into the gold of the pillars ahead of him. Maybe there wasn’t enough time he thought.

“Y/N!” he called out, turning the corner into another hallway. 

He thought back to all the times before this moment, when life had seemed just as hopeless and he was overwhelmed by all the thoughts in his head. This was worse, he knew that now. Still, she would go to him with hope in her eyes.

When Thor was gifted Mjolnir, when Odin would scold him for every mistake made, when Frigga’s magic wouldn’t click, she would approach him with care. A small hand to his face, the happiest of endings behind her eyes. 

“You can only go up from here,” she would whisper. 

Eyes closed, revealing in her presence, the tenderness between her actions. He swore he could never love anyone more. She felt like home, something otherworldly to Asgard, unknown to the family of his own. 

“So much faith,” he would mutter into her embrace, her skin soft, her hold desperate, “Why?”

He knew he was all she had. Despite Nan, despite the few friends she had made, all her life she was met with misfortune. A deceased mother, a missing father. Her best friend was the God of Mischief, a title that was apart of the gray areas that distinguished good from bad. And yet, all the good in her was settled in his heart, a promise, a reassurance that he too, was home.

“Glorious purpose,” she’d say, smiling bright, “You get to choose what that will be,”

Turning another corner, he began to call out to her once more, his words suddenly caught in his throat at the sight before him. 

The relief came as soon as the dread. 

Finally, he had found her. After countless hours of searching, countless stabs to another's chest, undying wishes to return, he had found her, intact, but still not the same.

He knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to shake the image ahead of him. Five beasts, all three times her size laid strewn about the hallway, blood pouring from the corners of their mouth, weapons scattered feet ahead of them. Laying in the center was her, the center of their universe, of his. 

Her hair had fallen out of its hold, blood soaking it down in place. The bottom of her dress was torn to shreds, visible claw marks the culprit of the carnage before him. It took all the strength he had to not vomit at the sight of the arrow lodged in her side. 

He dropped his staff in a frenzy, legs stumbling towards her unconscious body as he moved at what felt like an agonizing pace.

“Y/N...” he muttered, dropping to his knees as he carefully brought her body to rest in his lap. Hands shaking, tears threatening to fall, it felt like his heart was beginning to collapse. 

A limp body, skin turning pale, he weakly shook her shoulders, hands rubbing at her blood stained cheeks, “Y/N,” he cried, “Y/N wake up. Please my love wa-”

Suddenly, her hands shot up, desperately clinging to his forearm as shallow breaths followed, her nails digging into his leather. 

Blood was caught in her throat, making it hard to breathe as she tried to bring Loki closer. It didn’t matter she was dying, it didn’t matter how much pain stung at her body. He was here, she was in his arms. She was home.

“Loki,” she whimpered quietly.

Despite it all, he laughed. Laughed tears of joy, laughed that she was still alive, revealed in the chance that there was still hope. There was always hope when it came to her.

“Come on,” he muttered, trying his best to be gentle, speak softly as to not scare her further, make this night even worse than it already has been. She was always there for him.

Now was his chance.

As he gathered her in his arms, slowly lifting her to not let the arrow sink any further, she cried out in pain, hands squeezing into his arms even harder.

“No,” she sobbed as he placed her down once more. A mix between coughs and cries ensued, blood beginning to spill out the corners of her mouth. He was beginning to see stars, the walls closing in at an alarming rate as he couldn’t help but think this was all his fault. So helpless, needing a sense of relief and comfort that he could not provide. It was heartbreak in its realest form, a gut wrenching hole in his chest. 

“It hurts,” she cried weakly, gasping for air, “It hurts Loki, please,” 

He sighed shakily, holding onto her tighter. He couldn’t lose her, didn’t dare to think about the person he would become if he couldn’t see her everyday, hear her voice, feel her touch. Reaching towards her hand he continued to ignore the blood stained palms, his other hand holding her face, “Y/N...”

Thumb stroking the sides of her face, fingers combing through her hair, a desperate attempt at comfort, “Love look at me,”

With all her strength she willed her eyes open, relieved to see anything but the beasts she fought. Loki looked wrecked, brows furrowed in concern as blood spilled from the cut rested in his brow. His hair had fallen from the bun she had put it in hours before, framing his face to let the tears that have fallen shine.

He was so beautiful she thought.

“I need to get you help,” he cried, trying his best to put on a brave face, “I need...”

Choking on his words, he couldn’t help but sob, bringing his face into the crook of her neck, clinging onto whatever life she had left in her. So many things, he thought, some many things he needed.

A long warm bath, calm waters to wash away the hours of bloodshed, the comfort of his own room, his silk sheets enveloping him whole. He needed her to smile once more, to laugh so sweetly that his ears buzzed and his heart soared. He needed her to be okay.

“Please Y/N,” he muttered, putting himself together. Remembering, he quickly reached into her dress pocket, searching till he pulled out what he was looking for.

Her gold necklace.

He reached out, placing the necklace on top of her heart as her hand quickly followed, resting on top of his, “Please,”

She sighed heavily, blinking the tears away as she slung her arm around his neck, bunching his green shirt into her’s. Looking at him one last time she recognized the creased lines upon his face, situated at the corners of his mouth for that smile that was only for her. The beauty mark above his brow, the one she would poke at whenever he was mad. And his eyes.

She smiled, “They’re blue,” she whispered.

Unaware to if he heard her or not, she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the agonizing flow of pain. Quickly, and without warning, Loki lifted her into his arms, her cries muffled by his armor she hid herself in.

She tried to stifle the pain, the shoots of electricity that numbed her body with each step he took. There was no way of her distinguishing how fast he was moving, what time of day it was. How far gone she had become. All of her senses were heightened and dulled at the same time, a murky sea of overwhelming emotions that she couldn’t navigate.

She had seen him one last time. Heard his laugh and felt his hands upon her face. That was enough for her to let go.

One last time, she willed herself to speak, clearly and with more conviction. She needed him to hear her one last time, remember her as strong.

“I used your magic,” she said, eyes still closed, head buried into his neck, “Did you see?”

He bit down on his lip, drawing blood as he stifled a cry. Of course he noticed. It was the first thing he saw when he turned the corner, multiple green daggers scattered across the floor. If he wasn’t so distraught, heart set on saving her, he would’ve been proud, the numerous bodies that had surrounded her a testament to her strength.

She didn’t hear what he said after. Couldn’t if she tried. She hoped that he was proud of her, that Nan was safe and her friends had made it out alive. She held onto that feeling, that surge of hope, wishing that it would carry into the next life.

****

do you guys want a final part 3?? also did I do the taglist right lol

tag list: @strawberryizuku​ @imagining-harrypotter​ @uhohmando​ @lareinedususpense​ @generationallyfluid​ @lokistan​ @chipster-21​ @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ @jessyballet​ @just-a-wandering-star​

[ccelinewritess]

the distance between us

pairing- draco malfoy x reader

word count- 9.7k

summary- the first time draco uses the muggle post system, it goes so terribly wrong, and a letter falls into the hands of a girl who was never supposed to see it, a muggle at that.

warnings- curse words, ptsd, anxiety/ panic attacks, depression mention of death, murder, blood and burns aswell as insomia, seperation anxiety (?) and my grammar.if these may trigger you, i suggested not reading.

a/n- this took me a while to get out, sry abt that. the reader was set to live in a canadian town called kelowna, british columbia. it takes place in readers grade 11/12 and dracos 6/7 year. i hope it’s not to self inserted, and you guys can enjoy and relate to it. big thank you to @dracodear for the help on this, love you! also thanks to everyone who left owl name suggestions, all were awesome and i ended up going with @winnsmills suggestion ‘noctua’ ! tumblrs been acting weird, so i hope it lets me post the whole thing. letters are in italics. also please note, this is off the movies timeline! i tried to fit in as many details as possible but some didn’t make it.

-

the town was widespread. wineries and mountains everywhere, the okanagan lake splitting it down the middle, reconnecting the cities halves by a bridge. little snow and tons of rain. jeep wranglers in every colour roaring around into unholy hours of the night, bustling with life yet all to lonely at times. but hey, that’s kelowna for you.

rain was running down the windows of y/ns most boring class, last period biology. she knew she should be paying attention. she had a high gpa to maintain, and couldn’t afford to fail another class besides french. the last five minutes of blabbering ended after what felt like a year.

‘you are dismissed, ill see you all monday, have a good weekend’ and with that everyone rose, heading to the parking lot as fast as possible in an attemp to dodge traffic. despite pouring rain, the air was hot, and on the ride home y/ns mind raced over every single assignment she had to complete over the next two days, while her hands tapped the steering wheel.

‘english essay, math review, history paper, business management graph’ she muttered under her breath. the town was busy, many students often blew off class to go shopping, or hit a movie, or smoke weed, the possibilities were endless. her house was cool compared to outside, and empty. no one was home, not that it was a surprise to the girl, people weren’t usually home, siblings gone to university, and parents working absurd amounts.

something caught her eye on the counter, an envelope, an ordinary seeming one, but absolutely covered in small pictured stamps with ‘england’ underneath each one. eighteen of them, all different. she knew shouldn’t open it, so she didn’t. at first. but it was irresistible. there was a return address written in the smallest writing she’d ever seen. wogshell, no, wiltshire? she took it to her room, and locked the door before ripping it open. she didn’t want the one time she had something intresting going on to be interrupted by whoever might show up.

her mouth fell open at every line of the same scroll. who was snape? why was this draco boy sending him a letter? he didn���t need his help to kill who? what the fuck was an unbreakable vow and why shouldn’t snape sign it? why was his mum going to see snape? who was the dark lord and why did he pick draco for a task? what kind of name is dumbledore?

what she already knew was confirmed- this letter was most definetly not for her. but newly- she opened a letter from a potential murderer or maybe it was a prank, a sick prank if it was one.

so instead she crafted up quite the response, whoever wrote this was either hysterical or in distress, and needed some sort of company- she thought, atleast.

-

it had been thirteen days, why wasn’t the letter back yet? the owl still couldn’t fly even about the house without damaging itself further. maybe using the muggle post system was a mistake. but better have it land into the hands of a muggle, who would likely throw it out, than a wizard who would know a death eater would soon be wondering around hogwarts.

as if on que, the door bell rang and echoed through the empty manor. on the porch sat an envelope, with only one stamp, his name in the middle and another he didn’t recognize in the corner. shit, this couldn’t be good. his eye caught the stamp. canada? fuck, this was supposed to go to cokeworth not bloody canada. no one was home so he opened it right there in the foyer.

hello, draco.

i am not snape- nor do i know who snape is. i am also very unfimilar with some of the vocabulary you used. dark lord? unbreakable vow? you seem to have quite the situation going on, if i read correctly. im not exactly stupid, but i do know that this letter was most definitely not supposed to be in my possession. i didn’t know who to send it to, id send it back to you, but you probably don’t want a copy of your own letter. i also know you likely have enough on your plate, but if you’d like someone to talk to im only half a world away, have no sort of schedule and am a good listener, well reader in this case. good luck with whatever task you’ve mentioned. p.s. you had about seventeen stamps to many, first time sending a letter? unfortunate fate, huh ? what kind of name is snape and what the heck is a dumbledore? i suppose it’s none of my business, knowing you likely won’t respond, but if you do i wrote my address on the front. have a good day/ night/ whatever time it is wherever you are.

y/n l/n

tears were welling in dracos eyes, he was floored, in a good and bad way. his task was already going downhill. the letter he sent snape had fallen into the hands of a muggle, who did not throw the letter away, but responded. and snape was likely going to bine himself into the task through the unbreakable vow, which draco was more than able to complete. he wouldn’t have been chosen if he wasn’t, right?

not only had she responded, she offered him help, well distant company, to a stranger who obviously had quite a few problems and she clearly had no regard for her own safety. he couldn’t tell her about the wizarding world. not that he could tell her about anything, she could be lying. he had a task to focus on, he couldn’t write her back.

and that was true- at the time. he had no intent of writing the girl back. and yet he found himself reading the 201 words over and over, running his hands across the paper, expecting them to fade away as he wiped. counting and recounting. he surely couldn’t talk to any of the twats at hogwarts, maybe a stranger could help numb the pain. and as long as he didn’t tell anyone- she couldn’t get hurt, she was to far.

draco was packed for hogwarts, the response at the bottom of the trunk, underneath his clothes. he’d just have to get to the damn school, then he could write all he wanted- without his parents knowledge or ridicule. his mind jumbled together what he was going to say while his friends rambled on. the train pulled up to the castle after dreadful hours and he could barely sit still during the opening feast. his thoughts did falter though, when dumbledore gave his speech, he felt guilty- the shame of his family weighing on his shoulders. he looked around, all his classmates staring in adoration at a man who would be dead ten months from now, and they were sitting in the same room as his killer.

the singular room was nice, he knew it wasn’t for lounge, but for plots of death.

before he began he started making promises to himself. if i get behind on the plan ill won’t write, if snape notices anything about it, ill stop. the list went on and on.

he couldn’t put his pen down, the words continued to fly out the end, was he oversharing?

dear y/n

my deepest apologies that my last letter found it’s way to you. im sure you didn’t expect whatever you may have perceived from it. honestly, i don’t know how it arrived all the way over there. im almost positive you have better things to do than listen to my problems, and i know you had no control over the fact it arrived, but i ask you to please not share this information with anyone. i am unsure if i will take up your offer of amity, if you were serious that is. im at school now, so if you’d like to respond, not that you have to- you can send letters back with my owl, it’ll be faster (and i won’t have to worry about stamps- thanks for the tip by the way)

draco malfoy 

and with that noctua was off into the night, and he could only hope that it would make it to her.

-

droll was running down y/ns chin and she was caught in a dream. suddenly a vigorous tapping on the window pulled her into consciousness, the sight of owl knocking her backwards in a scare. a crash sounded, if the tapping didn’t wake anyone up, that surely did. she almost considered just trying to ignore it, until she noticed a letter tied to its neck and reluctantly opened the window. she’d never seen an owl in real life before, but was aware from school that they weren’t exactly the kindest of creatures. this one just perched on the window while she removed the new enevelope, no stamps in sight. just a neatly printed address, and his in the corner.

from the new letter she learned even more- this wasn’t a prank, draco was a real person, was still in school, and whatever the first misplaced letter contained was true. he had some sort of task and didnt want help, but that was all. so with what she could, she wrote another response. it took an hour and she wasn’t exactly sure what she had written by mid morning.

draco

you’d be quite suprised actually, it gets lonely over here. i still haven’t exactly deciphered your original note, so if you would like to help me understand i think i’d be ready. and no worries about me, my lips are sealed. what is an unbreakable vow, im curious? you go to boarding school? and owls, really? what the hell is up with that? im pretty sure it’s illegal to own one here, but we are countries away, so perhaps it’s different all the way over there. send whatever you want. i do not- by the way- have anything better to do in the slightest.

y/n

-

he continued to write throughout the month of september, which bled into october before he knew it. he was avoiding questions about the task, just wanting someone to talk to. it wasn’t easy, she was curious, which draco couldn’t exactly be mad at her for that since he continued to write her, accepting the distant friendship that was forming.

he was learning a lot about her aswell. besides french, which he informed her he spoke fluently numerous times, she was a very good student. she was single, he didn’t remember how that came up but made a note in his mind- he couldn’t date her, nor did he know enough about her to be properly involved.

she read a lot of books, sappy romances mostly, couldn’t cook anything deemed edible by anyone, and her favourite colour was green, he smirked when reading that for the first time. she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her future, just not a doctor like her parents wanted.

-

y/n was sitting in english as her teacher reviewed about univeristy application requirements. only next year they would be getting accepted and denied from their dream schools. she’d spent years dreaming of it, university, and yet somehow a boy half way around the was racing through her mind. she felt horrible about it, the small crush. it was incredibly selfish, falling for a boy with so much going on, he certainly didn’t need her as anything more than a friend to talk to, but he was good with his words, and making her feel important too. her dismissal came and so did a classmate, approaching confident and cocky.

‘hey, l/n’ he said, a smirk on his face

‘oh, uh hey, will’

‘what are doing tonight?’ her mind went blank, any excuse, come on, say something

‘i have plans’ wow real specific, great job, y/n

‘like what’

‘fish funeral, real important stuff, my family is just devastated’ her voice was clearly sarcastic and that was all before she walked right out. no she didn’t exactly have plans, but waiting for dracos owl provided much more company than any date could have. the sight of dracos owl flying towards the pre-opened window was somewhat relieving, she didn’t know why, just the fact that he had not failed yet, and was still out there was nice. she hadn’t had this much company. since last year at least, when her supposed best friend started ghosting her because of some petty shit.

thankfully noctua ad gotten quite good at being discreet when delivering the letters. of all the things on y/ns junior year bucket list, explaining to her parents that she had befriended a british boy with an owl who flyed into her room while her neighbours had a clear view, wasn’t one. she also began keeping a bowl of water under her bed for the owl to drink when it arrived, knowing it couldn’t have been easy travelling back and forth.

y/n

im not fully sure you want to know the depth, yet you seem to want me to corrupt you with my villain with a task baggage. i suppose it couldn’t hurt if i told you about the unbreakable vow. it’s like a promise or a bond, but if you break it then you die. if you can stomach that i may be able to tell you more. how far away do you reckon we are?

draco

-

draco wasn’t falling behind too far, but his first attemp had failed, and panic attacks were taking up most his time. he never had any, at least not this bad until this year. at least once a day he would start sweating, no matter how cold he was, unable to control his breathing or tears, feeling like the walls were caving in upon him.

that is, besides writing y/n as much as he could. apparently she was being honest, she had no schedule of any sort besides going to school. he hated to say, but he was becoming attached, he didn’t exactly know how either, but everytime he recieved a letter a small weight was lifted from his shoulders, even just when he read it.

noctua was doing the weekly, almost daily round at breakfast with the other owls and draco watched with anticipation as a letter dropped on his lap and owl on his shoulder. he tried to conceal the letter into his robes but pansy had taken matters into her own hands. likely jealous that she’d spent collectively around six hours with him the whole year, and he never talked to her like he used to.

‘ou draco whats this’ twirling the envelope between her hands. the letter had no name, no stamp, only a small heart drawing in the corner.

‘hands off parkinson’ he said while taking the letter back. ‘a letter from my mother, if you must know’ he said knowing that neither his mother or father had written him anything, despite having all the time to do so.

he got up and left the second he was done, not wanting to draw snapes suspicion about who could possibly be more important than working on this task.

he rushed to his room, desperate for more of her words. he tried to picture her voice in his head, but had to remind himself she wasn’t british nor was she from southern america.

draco,

so you just die if you break the promise? intresting. it’s not as hard to stomach as you seem to think, very unique tradition i suppose. you are not a villain draco, you haven’t told me much about it but your to good of a person to have picked any of this for yourself. i calculated when we you were home, seven thousand three hundred something, i don’t know where your fancy boarding school where you have owls for pets is, so it may be further. im ready whenever you are.

y/n

her letter was relieving for him aswell, even in the slightest it helped, but she deserved some sort of answer for helping him take his mind off the task for a couple minutes. he could tell if she wasn’t scared off already, this would do it.

y/n

if you are sure, here it is. dumbledore is my headmaster, the dark lord is a very powerful wizard, and snape is my professor. if i don’t kill dumbledore before july, he will kill me and my family, if i can’t complete the task, snape will kill him under terms of an unbreakable vow. im not a very good villain that’s for sure, my first attemp failed, and my classmate is out cold. i understand if you dont want to write to me anymore, just don’t tell anyone about this, please.

dm.

-

the only words to describe the feeling that overwhelmed her senses as she read were devastation and shock. tears pooled in her eyes as she tried to imagine herself with that much responsibility to wildhold until july. another detail that caught her eye, wizard? what did he mean by wizard? is that the word for dictator in england? certainly he wasn’t talking about the wizards she read about in storybooks as a child. her hand shook slightly and she debated mentioning it.

draco

you’re silly if you think i’d stop writing you. you need company now more than ever. please don’t hold things back from your letters, you deserve someone to talk to. that is quite the situation, im sorry if i pushed you, you do have enough on your shoulders and i want to help you as much as i can. i hate to ask, but you mentioned ‘wizards’ and i am a bit confused.

all my love

yn

-

initially, draco went into shock. he knew he was probably oversharing, but didn’t expect to slip up in that way. he begrudgingly admitted; knowing that if this went badly he would likely be banished from the wizarding world, which didn’t seem like such a horrible punishment to him anymore. and yet she was fascinated, by the coins he sent her, the subjects he learned- which she compared to her own much less exciting ones, and everything he told her about it. he could now talk to her about much more, since both his secrets were now out in the open to her. he told her about the about the houses, and they both agreed she would probably be in hufflepuff, well he thought so, her kind and accepting nature, and she didn’t know enough to disagree. and for the first time in the long time he was seeing things differently, completely diminishing the rude behaviour he often displayed towards the house.

she even sent him a picture, the first time he ever saw her face. a large smile spread across her beautiful features, she seemed to be laughing. eyes glistening in the sun even prettier than he could have imagined. he slept with it under his pillow, and could stare at the still image for hours. no it didn’t move around, but he couldnt care less. he only had one picture of himself in his possession and he was young, about four. she was facinated by the moving image, his blonde hair and attitude shining right through. he would owl his mother for a more recent one, but didn’t want to explain why.

the letters were helping him, but the task wasn’t advancing. his second attempt had failed, he was caught sneaking into slughorns party, and harry was onto him. they were also causing him doubt. say they did get the cabinet fixed, he couldn’t see himself killing dumbledore anymore, the more he talked to her he realized he couldn’t be a killer, as cold as he was to some people, but he had to, didnt he?

most importantly every letter she sent gave him a sense of hope. that the second this is over he could move. away from voldemort, and potter, his parents even, england in whole. perhaps not to canada, but it could be a change, half way across the world with the girl who was helping him stay alive through his letters. he just needed to stay alive long enough too see her.

the seasons changed around draco, but his room stayed the same. hot from mysterious potions, for himself and some for dumbledore, he had not had much hope after the wine, though. it was lonely, not that he’d like y/n here, he’d much rather be there, all the way across the world.

-

may came in a blur, and finals were creeping up. one week y/n sat at her desk, every night, waiting for a letter that didn’t come. on the fifth letterless day she cried. not exactly knowing why, it wasn’t her that had much of a reason to cry, but dracos company had filled her lonely life up with light of its own, leaving it darker than it was before she saw the first letter. she was silly to be so attached and silly to expect him to reciprocate the feelings she had proclaimed in the last one she sent, and should have expected him to stop eventually. so she continued on with school, finding it a bit easier to concentrate now that a draco sized whole was missing from her brain, and her heart aswell.

the next week, though, a letter came, very appreciated by y/n as the whole other universe, british boy forgetting thing wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

y/n

im sorry for not writing, the classmate i mentioned all those months ago woke from the curse, and the potter twat hexed me with a spell id never heard of before. i would have tried to contact with you but i couldn’t exactly trust what my brain was planning on writing, and the cuts are still a bit sore. the cabinets fixed, but even if everything works out okay i won’t be writing very much at all. i’ll be home in july, but the manor will be infested with death eaters and i can’t let you get hurt. thank you for everything l/n.

draco

it stung a little, knowing that the empty feeling the girl just experienced would be more frequent, he didn’t mention anything about what she had said, and that this could be the last time she ever heard from him if he didn’t kill dumbledore. in hindsight, practically telling her she loved him in a letter wasn’t what he needed, she knew that.

-

he left out the fact that he the spell put a him in a huge emotinal draught. he was exhausted constantly, crying even more than before. the cuts were sore, so he wasn’t holding everything back.

the last month of school came and went all to fast for dracos liking, and death eaters now roamed around the castle, causing havoc where ever they could. his trunk had been shurken so small it looked like a small muggle toy he put into his pocket easily. the dark mark that was stretched across his left arm was now hanging in the gray sky, and the headmaster was no where to be seen. he paced anxiously around a vacant corridor until he heard a pop in the astronomy tower. he didn’t think people could apparate into hogwarts, it would have made his job much easier.

‘harry, get snape, i need snape now’ he seemed exhausted, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard

‘sir im going to sit you down okay, and then ill go get madam pomf-‘

‘severus, harry, I need severus now, go get him and talk to no one else’ he said in a shallow yet somewhat urgent and angry tone.

draco waited for footsteps to disappear, before whipping the door open with his wand already ready.

‘oh hello, draco, nice to see you on this fine evening’ he said nonchalantly, leaning his weight against the wall.

‘EXPELLIARMUS’ draco boomed, successfully disarming the man without counter attempts before glancing around to see a second broom

‘who else is here?’ he said sounding confident but feeling the opposite

‘i could ask you the same question, acting alone are you? you don’t seem supported’

‘no, there are death eaters in your school tonight, and i got them here’ he snarked ‘they’ll be up, any minute now, their fighting down below. i’ve got a job to do’

‘well done boy, if you don’t mind me asking a few questions, before you get on with it, im very intrested’ was he kidding? he knew draco was about to kill him right? wanting to stall, and not fully wanting to kill him he nodded his head yes.

‘you seem scared to act until they join you

‘im not scared, you should be scared’ he snarled, unable to contain the fear in his voice any longer any longer

‘oh draco’ he sighed ‘while we wait for your friends arrive, care to explain how you smuggled them in here? i never imagined it possible, especially not by a student’

‘i had to mend the broken cabinet that no ones used for years, there’s another one in borgin and burkes. montague got stuck in told everyone stories about it, how he could sometimes hear what was going on in the shop and sometimes hear hogwarts like a passage, and i was the only one who discovered what it meant. not even borgin, not you either, i did it right under your nose, you didn’t realize anything’ he said

‘you are right, i didn’t know that. i do- on the other hand, know that you aren’t a killer’

he raised his wand a little higher, feeling wheezy and as though his legs would give in any second

‘how you know that, I’ve done despicable things, you wouldn’t even be able to fathom’

it was dumbledore’s time to pause, glancing up at the sky and looking around the room before continuing

‘draco i know you almost killed katie bell and ron weasley. you’ve been trying to kill me all year, forgive me for saying this, but they’ve been very feeble attempts. to be honest ive wondered wheather your heart has truly been in it’

‘it has, and if you knew why didnt you stop me’

‘snape has been watching over you on my orders’

‘ it’s not on your orders, he promised my mother-‘

‘ofcourse he would tell you that, but it happens to be that i trust professor snape’

‘your losing it then, he’s a double agent, he isn’t working for you- he’s been trying to get in on the action all year, helping me and all. doesn’t matter now- he probably doesn’t even know they are here yet, he will wake up tomorrow and no longer be the dark lords favourite, he will be nothing compare to me’ confidence was building within him

‘very gratifying, we all like being recognized for our hard work, but, draco?im standing here wandless and weak, unable to defend myself, and you have not made any move to kill me, dont blame me for believing you will not, but let’s discuss your options’

‘my options’ he laughed ‘im standing here with a wand, about to kill you’

‘oh dear boy, if you were going to kill me you would have when you disarmed me, not stayed for a little chat’

‘i haven’t got any options, don’t you understand, i have to kill you, or he will kill me’

‘okay, if you don’t want to join the order with your mother where we could protect you, i only have one more question’

‘better hurry, theyre on their way’ he almost laughed which was quickly replaced when Dumbledore said his next words.

‘who is y/n l/n’ at that a tear fell down dracos face, and he lowered his wand almost completely

‘i-i don’t know who that is, odd l-last words’ he stuttered

‘draco dont play dumb now, not after we discovered you are very intelligent. we left some of the security measures from last year that Umbridge enabled, and I couldn’t help but notice hundreds of letters flowing to and from her. i looked into student files, ilvermornies too, nothing, id never heard the name, a muggle i presumed. but of all the things, that had me the most confused. i couldn’t figure out why you would be contacting her, so i did some meddling’

‘WHAT DID YOU DO’

‘fiesty all the sudden, are you? i felt bad after opening this, it seemed very personal, and i probably should given it too you sooner, but i was a bit preoccupied double checking my drinks and all’ dumbledore said handing him the letter.

draco

how is the cabinet coming? it’s raining even more here than usual, all day and night. and don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. you are just a kid, you shouldn’t be forced to be a hero. you are protecting so many people right now, but i don’t need any. you have given my life enough light in the last few months than i ever recall, and im so thankful that letter came to me. i wish you were here with me right now, but i know you can’t be, so just stay alive, okay?

y/n

more tears fell, he hated being so weak at the mention of her, crying before he completed the blessing his father and bellatrix considered the task to be.

‘she’s right, draco, you deserve another chance’

he was speechless, and could tell Dumbledore knew he found his weakness.

‘i always pictured you and pansy, never in a million years imagined you to be in a relationship with a muggle’

‘no matter who does it, your about to be killed, and im not here to discuss my love life am i?’

‘so you do love her?’ before draco could even think he heard a door open and raised his wand, hiding the letter faster than he had ever moved.

‘shut up, they will kill her’ he said quietly and desperately

in walked fenrir greyback, yaxley, and bellatrix. they made banter of their own, but her words replayed. he couldn’t do it.

‘go on draco’ his aunt whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

‘DO IT, DO IT BOY’ she yelled, in a high pitched and annoying voice

he felt a strong arm over his chest, pushing him aside, and he saw the whoosh of snapes robes and an already pleading dumbledore

‘severus, please’

‘AVADA KEDAVRA’ snape shouted, a green flash producing from the end of his wand, hitting the old man square in the chest. draco rushed over to the edge, watching him fall. it was a long way down.

-

the rain had sudsided, sunlight leaking into her room during the day. watching the sky at night, failing to find constellations he described many times to her. her wardrobe was mostly untouched, remaining in pyjamas most of the week. the odd time she did leave, she saw her old friends walking and laughing out her car window. eating and socializing felt like a chore, and she hadn’t communicated with the boy since may. he could be dead, she didn’t know. there was no death on the ‘muggle’ news, and draco wasn’t on the top wanted list, not that he likely would be on the television all the way over here. he could be fine, in wiltshire, going to dinner parties and holding balls. or maybe, he too, was sitting in his room staring at the ceiling for days on end. she had now hung the picture of a young draco by her desk, not needing to worry about anyone seeing. her siblings were once again home, but out living their lives so much that it still felt like they were gone. for the first time she noticed his scroll on the back.

‘i was four when this was taken i believe, my hair is very similar, i was quite sassy, im sure that shows without explanation.’ she blushed while reading, it was true. his hands were on his hips whipping his head around.

-

every day was a surprise around malfoy manor. not the kind of surprise draco liked. not the feeling of butterflies in his stomach when he read y/ns letters, those were replaced by a pit as they were summoned around the large table in the dining room. the first one he attended was horrible, watching his muggle studies teacher being hung above their heads, pleading for the help of severus as she died. he bit his tongue in an attempt to avoid raging about about every comment surrounding muggle culture. each one tore his heart, as he imagined the girl all those kilometres away, the girl he had no contact with, but he looked at her picture as much as possible, and hoped one day he could make her smile again like she did in the image.

-

senior year was here, and y/n schedule picked up once again. her timetable was full, maybe it was best, a distraction, after a whole summer of thinking alone in her room. draco was on her mind at night, no matter how hard she tried to forget. she’d made friends with her creative promotions partner, logan. he was certainly not intrested in her in anyway besides friends, but company after all this time was enjoyable, just in the hour of class

-

draco had little privacy, with death eaters in every hallway, conversing with eachother. wherever he went someone was there, until he finally got sick of it and began going to the garden bench. with a book, sometimes, giving some of the sappy love stories y/n mentioned a try or even the poetry books she sent with noctua awhile back, they were okay, but his heart hurt at the feeling of relation in every line. he could only read one or two poems at a time, without tears forming in his green orbs.

sometimes he went with a pen and a notebook. he wrote about everything. the smell of the plants around him, the feeling in his chest when the dark lord called for a meeting. most of the notebook, though, was filled with poems of his own. and letters he had no intention of sending for her own safety. she wasn’t in harms way, though, other followers were preoccupied with ruining weddings and other things they considered fun. he blabbered on for pages, about how he missed seeing noctua fluttering towards him at breakfast. how he rereads the letter that dumbledore gave him the night he died. how she listened to him rant on and on, giving her support no matter how evil he felt. how he found love where it wasn’t supposed to be.

snow was falling once again, he had to dress in layers, making it hard to write often, the plants started dying as cold settled over and his mother no longer babied him like she used to before the death eaters began inhabiting the mansion. he couldn’t keep himself company any longer and gave into the pressure he put on himself. as long as they were careful, she’d be in no destruction- he prayed as he wrote what seemed to be an appropriate response after all this time.

-

like it had been decades, she flinched at the noise of the owl on the window, carrying a much larger scroll that he’d ever sent before, some parts scratched out and written above. his writing was much less tidy than she remembered, like the letters on the page were anxious for her reaction.

love,

after all this time, im sorry you are just now hearing from me. you have ever single right to be annoyed with me, after you listened to me for months, helping me emotionally in ways i never be able to repay you for. you do not need to forgive me, or write me back. i just wanted to keep you safe. but i needed to tell you everything before it might actually be to late. you’ve probably moved on and forgotten about me, like you should, but i guess im saying that i am alive. i didn’t kill him either. snape did. i thought i was going to be able to, but he started talking about you. he gave me a letter from you that he had already opened, the words repeated in my head over and over. you talked about how i deserved another chance, and how you wish I’d was there with you. right before he died he asked me if i loved you. i knew the answer but didn’t have time to say it. ive read your poetry books, they aren’t as bad as i once thought, i can’t read to many at once. i try to forget what dumbledore said that night, and that night altogether. but one day i read ‘that’s how you know you love someone, i guess. when you cant experience anything without wishing the other person was there to see it too.’ when i sit in the garden i imagine you smelling the flowers, myself picking one and putting it behind your ear. when i go on walks i imagine your hand in mine. youre in my dreams. my never ending thought. i remember the way i felt when we started talking a lot, and how I felt when we didn’t get a chance. you listened to me when no one else offered. not even my parents. i hope your doing okay, and smiling and laughing. i don’t care if we talk about absolutely nothing, i just want to talk to you. i know that’s unfair to you after all ive weighed on you. but i guess that’s all, i love you. draco ♡

well this certainly didn’t get him off her mind. she didn’t need to either. ofcourse she was going to write him back, but she needed time to think about her response. she missed the next day of school, and his owl was comfortably standing on her desk, nibbling away at the water and crumbs. she took an hour long shower, multiple naps, raided her fridge, and had to email the school pretending to be her mum, excusing her for the day. before she even knew what she was going to write, she began on a new piece of paper. she’d have thought longer, but was sure draco would be convinced she stole noctua out of anger.

draco,

wow. i don’t really know what to say. i knew you weren’t a killer, and i meant what i said about you deserving more chances. i will admit i was angry, and a bit confused. i sent that letter with high hopes. i don’t know what i was hoping for at the time, i was being incredibly selfish. but couldn’t help myself feel pained when you didn’t mention it in the next letter when you said harry hexed you. i know we can’t be together, especially not right now, but i love you too. i wish more than anything you were here with me right now, and it was you i’d be graduating with half a year from now. i wish you were in the passenger seat of my car while i drive through the city. i wish you could point out the constellations in the sky. i usually can’t read to many poems either, they get me thinking to much. im ready to write again if you are.

y/n

-

draco hadn’t felt more joy in a long time. around seven months. she loved him, and that was enough happiness for a life time. he just needed to stay alive.

they continued to stay in touch, almost as if they never stopped talking, entertaining eachother as much as possible, masking their separate misery and the distance between them. he could get time away from the reality that was his life for a while, he thought, until snatchers brought the trio he spent so long bickering with to the manor.

a very distorted looking harry fell before him, his hair tightly gripped by bellatrix.

‘well, is it him’ he knew it was harry. and yet a part of him couldn’t bring himself to letting the boy get killed.

‘i can’t be sure’ he lied

‘draco, look closely son’ lucius said loudly, getting a grip on the back of dracos neck before leaning in and whispering.

‘if we are the ones that hand potter to the dark lord, all will be f-forgiven. a-all will go back to how it was’

his father and the and a snatcher quickly got into an arguement. lucius was yelling something about the manor before narcissa calmed him with a hiss.

‘don’t be shy, sweetie come here take a closer look’

draco was know level with him. the scar was still visible on his forehead, and swollen eyes staring back at him, hopeless.

‘what’s wrong with his face’ draco said

‘yes what is wrong with the boys face’ a shrill voice repeated

‘he was like that when we got him, something he picked up in the forest i reckon’

bellatrix walked away, laughing away at something. the blonde boys eyes were still on harry, before he felt a tap on his shoulder. bellatrix began acting out, yelling about a sword, putting ropes around snatchers neck from the end of her wand. sword now in her hand she walked over to ronald weasley, grabbing his collar and demanding that the boys be put in the cellar.

a different draco would have gladly watched a mudblood be tortured by his aunt. but he flinched at every scream of hermione, unable to watch he went to the next room, resisting tears as he thought of the girl he fell for enduring the same. she had moved onto the goblin- ridiculing it about who got into her vault- and hermiones screams were now gone.

‘youre lucky, goblin, the same won’t go for this one’ he heard footsteps

‘like hell it wont’ he heard ron yell, followed by the expelliarmus and what must have been harry stupefying his father. draco rushed in, now dueling a more normal looking harry, until their attention caught on bellatrix, a knife to grangers throat. they dropped there wands, and he did as instructed, picking them up. lucius was summoning the dark lord when they heard a tittering on the ceiling, and the chandlier crashing. it all moved so fast and harry was now wrestling draco for his wand back. he tried, but harry had already pried it out of his cold and shaky hands.

‘STUPID ELF. THAT COULD HAVE KILLED ME’

‘dobby never meant to kill. dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure’ the house elf squeaked, and draco had never resisted a chuckle so hard.

‘HOW DARE YOU TAKE A WITCHES WAND. HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS’

‘dobby has no master, dobby is a free elf, and he has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.’ and with that they apparated out, not without bella throwing a knife into the mix.

-

meanwhile, y/n was receiving letters of her own. not from draco either. letters from the schools she applied to. so far everything was good, except for princeton, but she didn’t have the highest expectations. she was accepted to the university of british columbia, seattle university, even ucla. she only had one letter left, and the large stuffed yellow envelope sat in her hands. she wasn’t sure about it- would she even be able to go to the univeristy of london? it was far, but draco was there, well closer to there atleast. accepted- it read. it was an option, and she still had weeks to think about it.

-

draco was very hesitant to write after the incident at the manor, the screams of Hermione, and the terrifying looking potter still vivid in his brain and nightmares. he often woke from sleep in a sweat, yet freezing cold. whispers of the war around his house also haunted his mind and soul. he’d walk to the window and look up at the the stars, they were under the same sky, at least. eventually he had to write her, it had been half a month and he couldn’t leave her hanging alone again.

y/n

love, im sorry for being hesitant, but there is going to be a war. i hate to leave you contact-less, but i need you to be safe now more than ever. i couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt. potter and his friends were brought here to the manor, it didn’t last long- they escaped within the hour and a half. with that doped elf, and a goblin too. if you don’t hear from me again, remember i love you. and always will.

draco

of all the letters y/n had recieved, from draco in all, that was probably the most displeasing. a war? like with tanks and bombs? tears were shedding down her face as she wrote the shortest response yet. knowing he most definitely didn’t have time to listen to her talk about schools, and how she got accepted to london, but her parents deemed it to far, ubc would have to do, she’d find her way to him eventually, if they were meant to be.

draco

stay safe, i love you.

yn.

-

draco now stood at snapes new office, dozens of corpses on the floor, pooled in blood. the dark lord speaking parsel tounge to nagini. no one needed to speak it to know that the man was infuriated about something potter had done.

-

the information he left was lacking, was he serious? what did wizarding wars even look like? her graduation date was set, June 6th, but it all seemed irrelevant, suddenly picking out a dress didn’t seem as fun as she thought, same with getting portraits taken. should she have said more?

-

next thing he knew the protection spell was countered and he apparated in, grabbing zabani and goyle by the collar. rushing them into a corridor and waited for the door of the room of requirement to completely vanish before approaching himself. they successfully found harry, opening a box carefully before finally drawing attention to themselves.

‘well well, what brings you here, potter’ draco said, softly, much to his surprise as he meant it to sound snarky and rude

‘i could ask you the same’

‘i believe you have something of mine, and id like it back’ was he becoming… kind?

‘whats wrong with the one you have?’ harry replied

‘it’s my mothers, powerful but different, doesn’t fully understand me, im sure you know the feeling’

‘why didn’t you tell her. bellatrix? you knew it was me, and you didn’t tell her’ he wasn’t exactly sure what to say, nor did he know. harry really didn’t have anything to do with his feelings for y/n, maybe he should have just turned in him when he had the chance, it would all be over if he had.

‘don’t be a wuss draco, just do it now’ goyle whispered in his ear, making him chill the same way bellatrix did on the astronomy tower, almost a year ago.

‘expelliarmus’ hermione half shouted, causing narcissas want to fly out of dracos hands and run the other way.

‘avada kedavra’ goyle missed and weaslebee started chasing after them, yelling something about his girlfriend. turning back around after goyle unsuccessfully casted the fiendfyre curse.

fear was making his body almost rattle as he desperately climbed bookcases in an attemp to outrun the flames. he watched goyle fall, into the orange. yes, he was a complete and utter twat, but wasn’t a half bad friend during dracos bullying peek. his foot slipped, now just his hands were keeping him up, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on. in the distance he saw the three, zooming off to safety in the distance, leaving them their to die. not that he blamed them, after anything he did to them, he would have probably left himself there aswell.

but potter was flying towards him, arm out-stretched, grabbing onto his own and hoisting himself on the broom. had he already died? must not have, because the heat had finally caughten up. feeling as though he was going to pass out, he gripped tighter onto harry, maintaining his position on the broom. so much for staying safe. the second they made it out, they crashed onto the ground. he wanted to thank harry, but found himself running off instead.

explosions and hexes were being sent everywhere. people dying left and right. giants and trolls and spiders helping, he found himself in the slytherin common room. partially because he wanted to say goodbye, as he never wished to return to the building again once he had the choice. and partially as he was now aware of a large burn on his arm, and he felt a need to put off fighting until absolutely necessary. he entered through the portrait, for the last time. it felt like an aquarium, looking out upon the lake filled windows, merpeople and the giant squid often zooming by. he sat down upon the sofa, where he spent countless hours avoiding homework, plotting against potter and swimming in lust of his pure-blood status that now felt like a curse. he went up to his dorm, where he did very similar things. he wondered as to what he would be doing if he was a muggle right now. picking out a suit for graduation, buying a corsage for his date, but he wasn’t, so he best get going. running his hands along the furniture before leaving, not looking back.

the noise in the entrance courtyard had completely been diminished and draco found his way into the crowd of students pooling in. death eaters swarmed towards them at a painfully slow place, his mother and father near the head of the group. he noticed hagrid, towering above them, carrying what could only have been harrys corpse.

he watched carefully as they approached, trying to wedge himself inbetween and behind other students.

‘harry potter is dead’ voldemort paused ‘from now on, you put your faith in me’ silence fell over the hundreds of people who were know gathered. he swished his robes and turned backwards facing his followers

‘HARRY POTTER IS DEAD’ obnoxious and deafening cackles erupted

‘and now is the time to declare yourselves. come to our side, or die’ even more silence fell.

‘draco’ his father hissed before repeating ‘draco’

he felt eyes fall all over him, gazing expectantly. tears ran down his face.

don’t talk like that, saying you don’t have a future. you do draco, you deserve another chance and infinite amounts of them. was this what she meant? he’d been looking for another chance, maybe this was it.

he shook his head no, and noticed his father had fallen a shade of pale he didn’t know existed.

‘Draco, DRACO’ he yelled, clearly enranged, but before he could continue - a movement shifted in hagrids arms, and harry fell out. in a heartbeat draco threw his wand to the scar faced boy. he caught it, looking grateful as he could while casting some sort of spell at nagini. death eaters were disappearing into the air- including lucius, narcissa being dragged with him.

draco didn’t know what to do with himself, he was wandless and he couldn’t fight, unless he wanted to engage in an actual physical duel, which he didn’t. he found himself in the great hall, asking professor sprout if she needed help patching those up, she pulled him into a hug, unexpectantly. he never recalled such contact or connection with a professor. he spent the rest of the battle helping healing wounds with dittany, and caring for those left in the wake. it was a nice distraction from the fact he would most definitely be disowned, left a family-less orphan at 17.

-

y/n couldn’t blame him for not writing, he clearly stated that it might be the last time. but every night she cried until she couldn’t cry anymore, or until she fell asleep. how could she like him so much? they’d never even met. she didnt really need to see him to know him, his letters told him enough about him. and she could only hope- that if he managed through his six year without killing his headmaster, he could make it through the war.

-

he delayed going back to the manor for as long as possible, until he decided to apparate directly into his room. he considered packing his things up, but realized no one was home. he was thankful, he don’t think he would ever be able to fully confront his parents again. he fell asleep in his bed, and slept for 48 hours straight. he slept through very vivid dreams, ones of y/n being tortured the same way as Hermione, ones of the dark lord coming alive once again and killing his mother because of his choices. he couldn’t bring himself to sleep again purposefully, no matter how exhausted he was. the days weren’t much better, his mind raced at unbelievable paces. he saw the dead bodies laying around the great hall, the unrecoverable ones. maybe he should have just fallen into the fire, surely that would have been easier. he was slowly becoming thinner, and always needed multiple blankets to even stay at a somewhat warm temperature, his heart beat faster than normal. he often felt pains in his neck, and his eyes were almost always puffy from crying. he spent so much time in bed he almost didn’t hear his owl flutter onto his nightstand mid afternoon, a small package tied loosely around his neck.

he opened it to see a letter, muggle candies and a worn book. suddenly he felt more awake, and be shot up a little to fast then he should have, sitting on the edge of his bed.

draco.

i don’t know where you are, or if youre alive, if youre reading this now. i hope this doesn’t arrive at a bad time. but your 18 now, so happy birthday. if you are seeing this, i still love you. i think about you all the time. i hope you are okay, and safe. in case you don’t end up writing me back, i just thought I’d give you some random information to keep you company and away from your mind. i graduate tomorrow. i look at your picture everyday. I remember what you once told me about following my dreams, so instead of medicine, im going to study literature and business next year. im staying in kelowna aswell for now, hoping maybe you’ll be able to visit someday. im sure you’d like it. my favourite colour is still green. i don’t know what else to say.

always here to listen if you’d like to talk. yn.

was it actually his birthday? had it already been a month since the war? it felt like a year but the visions played over and over like it was yesterday. it took him awhile before it clicked. the war was over, Voldemort was dead and there was no one to stop him from seeing her. he completely disregarded the lightheaded feeling he got when he stood up to fast- and rushed to his wardrobe. it took him a bit longer than he thought to pack up all his clothes, including the thousands of letters he kept hidden in a large drawer. the trunk was a bit heavier than he may have thought, and he ended up needing to take a car, in fear that he may not be able to apparate successfully to the airport without injuring himself. he quickly found out that muggle travelling was harder than he thought, and security and customs were also apparently a thing that all people needed to get through.

he wrapped himself in his cloak and didn’t get a drop of sleep the whole plane ride. it was nighttime when they flew over montreal, and then toronto. the sun rose as they crossed through winnipeg, regina, and calgary. he didn’t know this himself ofcourse, but he aggressively hit the map on the screen in front of him, desperate to know where he was. he only got an hour of half decent sleep before he felt rattling of the plane landing, and he gripped tightly onto the arm rests. he struggled for half an hour before he even got sight of his luggage on the moving thing that went round and round. compared to London, kelownas airport was very small and easy to navigate. the air outside was hot, making draco feel even more self concious about his clothing choices.

-

y/n put her hair back into a twist with a clip taking a suprising amount of effort to make sure it looked okay. her makeup was natural looking, nothing crazy but she looked gorgeous none the less. she slipped into her black romper, some canadians didn’t wear their fancy dresses to convocation, only something simple to go with the cap and gown. she arrived at the ceremony, seeing everyone, with excited smiles and laughs, conversing amongst themselves. and every memory came rushing back. they sat in rows on a stage, listening to the heartfelt and extremely cheesy speech the staff made every single year. she’d never noticed how many kids were in her age group until they were being called up one by one.

‘alex can’

‘ruth lee’

and the list went on and on until finally

‘y/n l/n’ the moment had come, and she shook everyone’s hand, receiving her diploma and flipping her caps tassel to the left. ‘y/n is staying around next year, and attending the university of british columbia okanogan, good luck l/n’ her principal said and claps continued like they had and the rest of the list finished sooner, or seemed to go by faster, she wasn’t sure. 

-

draco had never had to find a taxi by himself, but once he did he gave the driver the only place he knew, the address he saw on the top corner of her first response almost two years ago.

-

y/n pulled away from the school grounds, watching them disappear in her rear view mirror. it was hot with a breeze, but she smiled the whole way home. she’d done it, made it through every assignment and class, dealt with attention hungry bitches, and crappy teachers. the next door was truly opening. pulling up to her house, and closing her car door as she hopped out, she watched her feet carry her up to the house. turning the corner, she saw him, sitting there on her steps, a present wrapped horribly in his hands, looking very out of place in his black cloak. she stopped in her own steps and he hesitantly stood up, before she launched herself into his arms breathing in his cologne, finally together after all this time.

[amintyworld]

Mentors - Dream SMP Hunger Games AU

A/N: So this started as a one page drabble, then it turned into a six page fic. Oopsies! Anyway this is meant to be a sort of prequel to ‘The Victor’ drabble I submitted over at @dreamsmp-au-ideas, but can be read as stand-alone. Anyway, I wrote this in the span of an entire DAY because I have no self-control when it comes to writing and this AU has sparked some Middle School nostalgia in me. Anyway, hope you enjoy and please check out the blog where the AU idea came from, they’ve given me a LOT of inspiration for fics to write. -Minty

TW: Talk/mention of death, fighting, depression/loss, threats of death, slight insanity. (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

Summary: Tommy’s an angry orphan, Wilbur grows a soft spot for Tommy, Sam is the only braincell left in District 7, Tubbo has Dadschlatt and needs a lot of hugs, Phil earned the achievement ‘Oh no Feelings’. 

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

Tubbo intertwined his fingers as he walked with the guards toward the white porcelain-like door. The shock of his name getting pulled hadn’t exactly faded yet, and the dread of the logical conclusion he’d drawn up in his head did not exactly help matters. He knew he was dead - he’d never trained for combat, he wasn’t agile or fast, he knew next to nothing about surviving in the wilderness, or even whatever the Gamemaker threw at him for that matter. His fate was completely sealed the moment that boy with devil horns picked his name out of the bowl. 

He took a breath, his hand on the door handle. Time to say goodbye.

As soon as he shut the door, he could feel his father’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo.” His voice was gentle, warm, and kind. Tubbo’s emotions couldn’t help but become unplugged at the voice as tears ran down his cheeks and he clung to his father tightly, afraid to let go. Schlatt wrapped his arms around Tubbo gently, rubbing his back to give him some comfort. “Oh Tubbo, I know kiddo, shhh...”

“I’m so scared, Dad.” Tubbo’s voice wavered as his body shook with sobs, and Schlatt’s heart broke at his son’s voice. 

“I know buddy, I know.” Schatt moved so he could brush his hands through his son’s hair. “But… but you don’t have to be. I know you can do it, I know you can win.” A few tears slipped down Schlatt’s cheek. “You’re so much smarter than any of those meatheads in the Capitol, probably in any other District in Panem. You’re so much stronger than you know, kiddo. I know you can do it. Just survive, I know you can outthink any of them, I know you can win. Just survive, win, and I’ll be waiting right here when you come back, okay?”

“And… and we can finally make s’mores?”

Schlatt’s face broke out into a smile through tears. “Yes, yes we can make as many s’mores as you want! We… we’ll… I’ll show you the bee farms, and I promise I’ll be there every single night for dinner, no more late hours at the office. I swear.” Schlatt’s hands squeezed Tubbo’s shoulders. “But you gotta win and come home, okay?”

Tubbo’s eyes blurred with tears as he scanned his father’s face, words dying in his throat, not knowing what to say. “Dad, I-”

Schlatt pulled him down into another hug as the two wept, holding onto each other for dear life, not daring to let go. Then, a soldier appeared in the doorway. “He’s got a train to catch, Mr. Ram.”

Schlatt breathed deeply, pulling away from the hug to run his hand through his son’s hair one last time, taking in his face as he brushed a bit of hair out of his face. “I…” He bit his lip. “I love you, Tubbo. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“I love you too, Dad.” Tubbo gave a quick hug to his father, wrapping his arms around his neck.

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

When Wilbur was assigned as a mentor for District 7, he was more than a little nervous. The other Victors from Victor’s Row assured him he’d do just fine, but still, he was not exactly looking forward to it. He’d met the escort and advisor a few days ago, someone from the Capitol named Sam. For someone from one of the richest districts in Panem, Sam didn’t exactly dress in high fashion - no bright colors or extravagant hairstyles. Instead, he simply wore a clean formal vest and slacks. He gave Wilbur the firmest handshake he’d ever been given in his entire life, and despite the situation seemed almost cheerful. 

If he remembered correctly, he was supposed to settle in his personal car on the train and meet Sam in the dining car. Sam seemed to have every detail of their trip planned out perfectly, which Wilbur more than appreciated. He was already dealing with enough as it was having to mentor two kids and try to get them sponsors while basically reliving the worst time in his entire life. Ths screams, the blood… the memories were… they were not good.

They called him insane, unstable. The One Who Went Mad. When he used to panic and whimper and mutter to himself, they used to laugh at him. They thought what he’d been through, the things that he’s seen, and the nightmares that plagued him were nothing more than a funny joke. They loved his pain and suffering. Wilbur didn’t like when they laughed at him like some stupid monkey in a cage. That’s why he preferred to just stay home most of the time. But at this point mentorship was unavoidable, it was under Capitol orders.

It was a bit early before he was due to meet up with Sam in the dining car, and he craved a cup of black coffee. His mind whirred a bit from the familiar fancy train cars, and he needed something to clear his mind from remembering. When he opened the door, however, he didn’t expect to see one of the tributes already here this early. From his blond messy hair and his bright blue eyes, he assumed this was Tommy, the boy. Wilbur held up his hand to show he meant to harm before he moved past the teen sat near the window towards the tea cart, fiddling with the french press. Successfully pouring the pitch-black liquid in a very expensive looking teacup, he cradled it in his hands as he moved to sit across from the teenage boy, still focused on the train station outside the window. “Uh, interesting view?”

Tommy looked over at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in annoyance. “Something like that.”

Wilbur sipped the bitter coffee thoughtfully. He took a breath before speaking. “You know, you’re allowed to say goodbye to your friends and family in the Governor’s office, if one of the Peacekeepers made a mistake I’m sure there’s still time for you to…”

“No.” The teenager’s voice seemed firm, staring out of the window. “They didn’t make a mistake.” 

“Uh, well…” Wilbur felt the awkward tension in the room rise. “You are a… bit early, we don’t leave for another half-hour…”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. No one to say goodbye to, so I guess they just skipped that part for convenience.” He looked almost angry as he turned back to Wilbur. “Do you mind maybe not staring at me?”

“I’m trying to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” Tommy snapped. “You shouldn’t just start up a conversation just because you feel bored. I’m not paid to be your fucking entertainment.”

Add this to the number of reasons Wilbur didn’t want to be a mentor - teenagers. This kid certainly had a mouth on him. 

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed in anger as he gripped his teacup, trying his best to stay calm. “Well, whether you like it or not, you’re all of Panem’s entertainment now.” Wilbur quipped as he moved to walk away. “So maybe you should learn to be a bit more likable.”

As he began to walk across the car to move toward a table in the corner of the room, he felt a heavy weight on his back as he lost his grip on his cup as it landed on the metal ground of the car with a loud crash, the coffee staining the expensive carpets. He felt punches on his back and head as someone tried to pin him down. Wilbur sighed in frustration. With ease, he jabbed Tommy’s side, putting him off balance, and flipped the kid over, grabbing his arm and pulling it behind his back. Tommy struggled against Wilbur’s grip, angry. He could see tears in the teenager’s eyes as he practically growled at Wilbur. “Take it back you bitch! Get off of me and fight! Take it back or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Tommy’s anger slowly disappeared as he began to cry, his body shaking as he sucked in breaths, slowly realizing what exactly he said. “I’ll… I’ll…” Wilbur’s heart couldn’t help but ache at the sight of the poor kid, bringing back memories of that time, that feeling of being trapped.

The door at the other end of the train car flew open, to reveal Sam and the girl tribute from the Reaping, Sarah. “Wilbur, what are you doing?” Sam questioned as Wilbur quickly got off of Tommy, holding out his hand for the teenager to take. 

“Uh, right.” As Tommy’s eyes met Wilbur’s the mentor noticed how they scanned across his face, confused at Wilbur’s sudden change from annoyance to kindness. Wilbur smiled slightly. “Let’s save the real fighting for the arena, yeah?” Tommy hesitated before taking Wilbur’s hand as he helped him up, getting even more confused as he quickly wiped off his tear-stained cheeks.

“Sarah Teller and Tommy Innit, meet your Mentor, Wilbur Soot.”

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

Tubbo formally met his other tribute mate, a girl he knew from those fancy business dinners Schlatt would host - he never really talked with her much then, but it was nice to see a familiar face, that was for sure. Her name was Crystal.

They arrived and settled in without much really going on. Their advisor, the one with the devil horns a few hours earlier was their advisor, Bad. They were very confused at first why anyone would name their child that, until Bad insisted it was a nickname for ‘Badboy’… Tubbo couldn’t say he didn’t believe the advisor with some of the fancy and absurd names that seemed so popular in the richer districts. “Now, the best part is that even though you are both chosen as tributes, you’ll be able to see all the Capitol can offer before you’re in the arena. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“I guess it’ll be kind of cool to see the Capitol.” Crystal agreed as she took a sip of a fruitful smelling juice of some kind. Her eyes furrowed as if she was focusing intently on the next words out of her mouth. “I mean, this year economy-wise wasn’t particularly the best for them, seeing as their main exports have been plagued with attacks. It’ll be interesting to see how they fair under unseemly conditions.”

“E...Economy?” Tubbo asked in a silent question to his fellow tribute, whose face flushed in embarrassment. 

“My father is the head of exports for District 3. Knowing about stocks and stuff is kind of his thing… then, I guess, it became my thing.” Crystal shrugged, and Tubbo thoughtfully bit into a buttered crust of bread. “I don’t really think that’ll be too helpful in the Games, though.”

“Speaking of the Games, where’s that old man… I told him to meet us here almost an hour ago.” Bad thoughtfully added with a sigh. “He’s going to miss dinner completely if he doesn’t hurry up.”

Almost as if on cue, the car door slid open, and in walked a tall broad blonde-haired man who looked completely mentally checked out. He yawned as he reached over the table to grab an apple and one of Bad’s homemade muffins from the basket. He looked over to the two kids and gave them a slight smile and a two-fingered salute as if to say ‘hi’. “Crystal, Tubbo, this is Phil Craft, your Mentor,” Bad said, quickly gesturing to the man, anger bubbling to the surface. “Phil, where have you been?” Bad demanded, leaning over to snatch the muffin out of Phil’s hand. “No muffins until you eat actual food! We’re in District Two tomorrow and they expect us up and ready by 9 am sharp-!”

“Alright, alright! Stop freaking out, okay?” Phil pinched his nose in annoyance, turning his gaze to look over at the two teenagers again. Phil met Tubbo’s eyes and smirked. “Also, you said I needed real food?” Phil threw the apple up into the air as it caught wind on his arm, traveling over his shoulder blades and taking off of his opposite hand, landing in his mouth as he sunk his teeth into the apple flesh. “That count?” He asked between chewing as Tubbo and Crystal couldn’t help but smile and laugh, clapping to applaud Phil’s trick.

“You bail on us for a whole hour, show up to eat a single apple, and then got back to your little hermit hut?!” Bad’s voice raised slightly. “What do you even do in there that’s more important than this, huh??”

Phil’s playful smile dropped for a moment, replaced with something more melancholy as Bad clearly struck a nerve. There was a tense moment of silence before Phil resumed his happy persona. “Well, I didn’t mean to be a bother and disrupt your dinner. Now that I have my apple and my muffin, I’ll take my leave.” He looked over to the two tributes. “I’ll see both of you in the morning.” Phil smiled before quickly exiting the room once more, leaving a slightly irritated Bad, and two very off-put tributes.

Tubbo couldn’t sleep. The day’s events weighed too heavy on his mind - the Reaping, saying goodbye to his father, dealing with the thoughts of his own inevitable fate. He missed Schlatt’s warm embrace, he missed how his father ruffled up his hair just in the right way to say ‘I’m proud of you, kid.’ He missed home and its faint smell of motor oil and coal from the factories that always seemed to seep in through the windows and cracks in the walls just right. He didn’t feel safe here, he was in one of the fanciest bedrooms on a train that he knew he’d never be able to get a ticket for years, and yet nothing about this place felt safe.

He was being chased by something, something with claws and teeth that whispered nothing but death. But Tubbo didn’t want to die. Even if he knew it was his fate, Tubbo did not want to die. So he ran, his legs quickly getting sore and tired from overuse, yet he pushed on. He heard whispers in his ears, taunting him, laughing at his pathetic escape. Tears ran down Tubbo’s eyes as he pressed his hands over his ears and continued to run, something pinned him to the ground, claws sinking into his back as he whimpered in pain. A chill ran down his spine as the monster growled close to Tubbo’s ear. His heartbeat quicker as he begged, no pleaded to whatever was out there, please please I just want to live-!

He awoke with a start, looking around, tears streaming down his face as his body shook with an adrenaline rush. His hands found their way over his heart, making sure he was still alive as arms wrapped around him, shushing him and holding him close. “Woah there, Woah there… it’s okay, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare, it wasn’t real, shhh…” The panic in Tubbo’s chest slowly quieted as he wrapped his arms around the person, needing comfort desperately. The figure seemed startled for a moment before brushing back some of Tubbo’s hair out of his eyes. Tubbo looked at the figure for a moment, confused.

“Phil?”

“Hey mate.” Phil smiled warmly. “That was quite the nightmare, yeah? You were flopping around like a fish out of water.”

“But…” Tubbo sniffed, pulling away to wipe away his tears. “But why? How?”

“You sounded like you were in physical pain, I was worried. Can’t have a tribute dead before they even get to the arena, you know. Would really throw off the whole schedule.” Phil half-joked as he looked down at the mattress, not being able to meet Tubbo’s eyes at that moment. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on his mentor.

“Why’d you help me, we just met today for like two seconds at most-”

“It doesn’t really matter that much, I was just passing by-!” Phil dismissed quickly before Tubbo’s tone got more serious.

“Phil, if you’re going to be my Mentor you’ve gotta at least tell me the truth. I need you to tell me the absolute truth when it comes to this because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, what I’m up against, how I’m even supposed to survive, but you do. I need you if I ever stand even a chance of getting home. Please.” Phil let out a frustrated sigh.

“You reminded me of my son, that’s all. When he used to be a tribute.” Phil said, looking toward the ground. “He’d have nightmares, he was so scared but I told him I’d never leave his side, so when he got picked I went with him as his Mentor.” Phil sucked on his cheek. “I thought that if I went with him, talked him through it, got every single sponsor I could, he’d…” Phil sighed. “I just didn’t want for you to have to deal with the nightmare alone, no one should have to handle everything alone.” Moving off his bed, he looked over. “I’ll be across the hall, okay?”

“Oh...Okay.” Tubbo said, nodding. “Thanks.”

Phil nodded back as he turned and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand move toward his chest quickly, was he putting his hand over his heart or something…? As Phil moved toward the door, one question stood on Tubbo’s mind, he bit his lip for a moment, considering. 

“Phil, wait-!” Phil turned around, and Tubbo saw Phil’s hand wrap around a necklace of some kind he didn’t notice before, in the shape of a heart. “Did… did he survive? Your son?”

A tense silence followed.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Phil said. “No more questions, you need to get some sleep.”

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ twenty

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.7k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

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act three ➻ part two

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“You suck at this game,” you mutter, glancing over Jongho’s shoulder to see his hand of cards again.

“What? You can do better?” He scoffs in response and pulls his cards close to his chest. You shrug, propping an elbow up on the table and looking over to where Wooyoung and Yeosang sit. Both have cards in their hands as well, and Wooyoung keeps trying to sneak a glance at the other man’s hand, but Yeosang just moves further and further away from him. Jongho clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter as he continues to talk to you. “I’ll have you know that I am the best out of the whole crew. Unbeatable.”

“Well, damn. Everyone must be fucking horrible if you’re the best.” You crack a small smile, looking over at Jongho out the corner of your eye. He puts a hand over his chest.

“Excuse me–”

“You’re excused.”

“You’re jealous,” he counters through your childish remark.

“What exactly am I supposed to be jealous of? A bad poker skill?”

“Hey! It’s poker. It’s not like I get to choose what cards I get. It’s not even skill-based!”

“Then how are you the best? You just happen to have good luck?”

“No, I – listen. I have the best poker face, and I can lie better than anyone else on the crew.”

“Should you be proud of that?” You inquire, scrunching your nose up as you squint at Jongho. He opens his mouth to retort but snaps it shut a moment later. His expression is a bit dumbfounded, and he stares at the table with a small glare, seeming to realize your point. You manage to hold back your laugh, but Wooyoung doesn’t even try – a bright and noisy laugh resounding as he watches your exchange.

“You know it’s bad when Yeosang is winning,” Wooyoung says through a sigh. Yeosang casts a half-hearted glare at the man, but Wooyoung ignores him in favor of continuing to complain. “Why are you even winning? Out of everyone, you are the worst at poker. How am I losing to you? It’s one thing to lose to Jongho, but you? This is embarrassing.”

“You can’t lie, Woo.” Yeosang clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and continues to thumb through his hand of cards. “You turn beet red and start stuttering. I’m content with winning now. Break the losing streak.”

Wooyoung folds his lips into a frown, mocking Yeosang’s smug expression a bit as he looks through his own cards. “Break the losing streak. Content with winning. May as well just say ‘I’m better than you, Wooyoung.’”

“I wouldn’t say that. Maybe Y/N is my good luck charm.” Yeosang shifts his gaze over to you, one corner of his lips pulling upwards as he looks over you. You huff and glare back at him. You don’t make a habit of speaking to Yeosang, especially since he threatened you back on Medra and fucking choked you, but you also can’t bring yourself to trust his unknown motives. He maintains a certain level of teasing and playfulness, but all your one-on-one interactions have shown that attitude to be a farce.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you,” you retort.

“Hey, I thought I was your good luck charm,” Wooyoung whines, lips pouting out as he turns to Yeosang. Yeosang lifts a hand and pats Wooyoung’s cheek lightly. His gaze is softer than usual, but it quickly turns teasing again when he speaks next.

“You’ve never helped me win poker though.”

Wooyoung throws his cards on the table and shakes his head.

“Is there really nothing better to do? I’m bored out of my mind.”

“We’re on a spaceship, Woo. If you have any bright ideas of what there is to do on a spaceship in the middle of space, I would love to know what those ideas are,” Yeosang remarks, picking up Wooyoung’s thrown cards one by one. Jongho passes his cards over as well, although he is a lot more gentle than Wooyoung was.

“We’re actually not in space anymore.” Wooyoung jabs a finger at Yeosang’s chin and catches the man on the lip instead. Yeosang swats his hand away with a small grimace, but you can tell that Wooyoung’s antics don’t bother him too much. “We’ve already landed on Kebos. We’re just waiting for Captain and the others to do whatever it is they need to do.”

It’s been a few days since your awkward panic attack in the training room, but the mention of Kebos still makes you tense up, and your breath catches a bit in your throat. Jongho notes the way your shoulders lift, and his hand reaches down to the bench between you two, brushing over your knuckles just enough. You shift to look at him, lips pressed tight together, but he doesn’t look back at you. Instead, he keeps his eyes forward on Yeosang and Wooyoung as they continue their conversation.

“Stop being a smartass, Woo.”

“I’m not being a smartass!”

“You’ll get your ass beat if you aren’t careful,” Yeosang threatens, shaking his head a little while continuing to organize the deck of cards.

“You could never lay a finger on me. You love me too much.” Wooyoung crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back to grin smugly at Yeosang. The blond doesn’t even look at him before swinging his fist into Wooyoung’s arm.

“Hey!” Wooyoung exclaims, pulling away from Yeosang and rubbing at the spot where he was hit. “Ow? What was that for?”

“You said I wouldn’t hit you.”

“I didn’t mean for you to actually hit me though…” Wooyoung pouts and slaps Yeosang’s arm in return.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I didn’t do any actual damage, did I?”

“Ha! I knew you were soft for me!”

Yeosang huffs at Wooyoung’s accusation but neglects to counter again, letting Wooyoung bask in his victory (if it can even be called a success). You sit up straight as movement flashes across the edge of your vision. Seonghwa and San step into the mess hall side by side, both out of their casual clothes and armed with two pistols each. Jongho slides closer to you to make room for them, but Seonghwa puts a hand up and shakes his head a little.

“We aren’t staying. We’ll be heading out with Captain in a few minutes. Jongho, would you go take inventory in the cargo hold with Mingi later.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant. Consider it done.”

“We should be back shortly, but this will most likely take a few days. Maybe a week at most. Captain wants to scope out possible recruits for the crew.”

“Why all of a sudden like this?” Yeosang cuts in, leaving the deck of cards forgotten under his fingers. Seonghwa glances over at him with wide eyes. A small smile takes over his lips.

“Hongjoong will explain in time.”

“In time?” Yeosang scoffs. “So never.”

“He’s going to explain in time, Yeosang. If you expect me to tell you now, you’re sorely mistaken, so I would suggest you keep your mouth shut and wait for the captain to address it later.” Seonghwa levels Yeosang with a glare, the soft demeanor slipping away from his features, and for a moment, all you see is the Lieutenant of Death. Yeosang’s jaw shifts, but he doesn’t say anything else. “Y/N, could I borrow you for a second?” You become the focus of Seonghwa’s stare, but the fury in his eyes drops away as he looks at you.

“Y-Yeah, sure.” You push yourself up from the bench, stepping behind Seonghwa as he starts to walk towards a separate table. You turn to glance over at San, who takes your seat beside Jongho with a delicate frown pasted on his features. Even when you sit down beside Seonghwa, you can spot San over the lieutenant’s shoulder. He looks back at you, eyes lingering and watching, but as soon as he sees that you’re doing the same, he dips his chin towards the table in front of him instead.

“San is worried about coming along,” Seonghwa explains, noticing your stare. “Yeosang is going to be guarding the main airlock, and San doesn’t trust Yeosang, so… he’s not too happy about the situation.”

“Ah,” you exhale.

“All other airlocks are going to be locked down and sealed tight. I want you to go to the cargo hold with Jongho and Mingi. If anything does happen – which we doubt – both will be there to protect you and keep anything from happening to you. The military isn’t in this sector where we’ve landed, but just for extra precautions, Hongjoong reserved a private docking station. So only people with certain keycards can get into the bay, just the three of us who are leaving. The doors will lock once we’re gone. Yeosang won’t stay in one place the whole time, but he’ll be patrolling the corridors closest to the main airlock. San and I – we have orders from Hongjoong to return to the ship immediately if anything happens. Our location won’t be as far away as it was when we were in Echidna, so we’ll be able to return quicker than before. Nothing should get through Yeosang, Jongho, and Mingi though. How does that sound?”

You’re so immersed in listening to what Seonghwa is saying that you don’t realize he’s asked you a question until a couple seconds after he’s finished speaking.

“A-Ah, yes, that’s sounds… good. Great. Yeah.” You must still seem anxious and on-edge because Seonghwa’s brows furrow together.

“Do you trust us, Y/N?”

“I trust you. Not Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa dips his head and laughs through his nose. “That’s why I came up with the plan and not Hongjoong.” He glances over to where San is sitting, and with a deep sigh, he pulls himself back to his feet. “It’s time to go.”

Seonghwa says the words loud enough for San to hear as well, and the latter gets up, immediately looking over to where you’re still sitting at the table. You press a smile across your lips, one that San returns in an instant.

“Don’t do anything I would do,” you say as you stand up, moving back over to where Jongho and the others are seated.

“So, avoid doing something stupid?” San teases.

“Haha. Very funny,” you scoff. The second you’re within arm’s length of San, you reach out to smack his shoulder.

“Ow, hey, I’m fragile!”

“Fragile? Choi San, I–”

“You could break me,” San whines, shying away from your arm as you threaten to hit him again.

“I’ll hit you harder,” you sigh.

“Kinky,” he whispers back. He dodges your quickly-swung arm again, a snicker leaving his lips as he goes to join Seonghwa at the edge of the room. “We won’t keep you guys waiting long!”

“Watch them come back in three days,” Jongho mutters as Seonghwa and San leave the mess hall, and you slide back into your seat. He purses his lips at you when you sit down, brows raised high, and you narrow your eyes in response.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” Jongho shrugs and looks away from you. Yeosang huffs a laugh though, and that’s enough to tell you that it is far from nothing. At least Wooyoung looks just as clueless and confused as you. “I’m gonna go take care of inventory now rather than later.” Jongho slides off the bench. You sigh but get up as well, sending a half-hearted glare at Jongho’s head since he waited for you to sit down to announce his departure.

“Are you going with, Y/N?” Wooyoung asks. He watches you get up, eyes wide and questioning, and you nod at him. “Why? Didn’t Seonghwa ask Mingi and Jongho to take care of it?”

“Uh, yeah, I just want to figure out how to do it. For the future. If I need to.”

“Stop putting your foot in your mouth,” Jongho sighs. “It’s embarrassing.”

“That might be impossible,” Yeosang snorts.

“Hahaha, so funny.” You sneer and pass a glare in Yeosang’s direction, then turn away, so you don’t have to see his cocky expression any longer. “I hate him,” you mutter once you and Jongho are out of the dining hall. Jongho laughs under his breath.

“He’ll grow on you. Maybe.”

“I doubt it.”

“He does seem to enjoy infuriating you.”

“Wow, I feel so special.” You walk in step with Jongho even though you don’t know the way to the cargo bay. “I haven’t been back in the cargo bay since I first got on the ship.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but they slip out anyway, and Jongho glances at you out the corner of his eye.

“I find it funny, you know. I did the same thing as you when I first got on the ship.”

“You were a stowaway?” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you vaguely remember something – maybe Yunho? – mentioning Jongho being in a similar situation as you were, but the memory is too hazy for you to think about.

“Yep.” Jongho pops the syllable with a smile, bringing a hand up to run through his dark hair. “I was just trying to get free passage to a different planet. I had worked in a bar as a work mule on Dorado. Not too long, maybe only a couple months, but I heard lots of rumors and things while there. Captain and Seonghwa came through one day, and I overheard them talking about going to Aegos for a quick warehouse raid, then to Mensa. I was trying to get to Mensa, so I snuck aboard the ship and hid in the cargo bay. When we got to Aegos and retrieved the cargo, they brought San back. And he immediately found me hiding in the cargo bay. Sound familiar?”

“Well, I made it four days, so…”

“Are you bragging about how you were dying in a crate for four days?”

“I’m just saying I stayed hidden longer than you did!” You counter.

“I – hey, I’m a lot bigger and harder to hide than you are! Do I look like I can fit in a fucking crate?”

“Do you think I just look at people and think ‘oh they look like they would fit in a crate’? That sounds like a psychopath.”

“Listen, I was in that cargo bay for a full week. A week! I was only caught because of San! And the rest of the crew at the time were kinda… slow and didn’t notice a lot.”

“Right, yeah, if that makes you feel better.”

“I think I lose a year of my life every time I talk to you,” Jongho grumbles. You scoff and elbow him in the side.

“Don’t make me take more off right now.”

“Would you let me finish my story maybe? Please?” You lift your hands, dragging your thumb and index finger over your lips to show your silence for Jongho. He shakes his head ever so slightly at your antics, but continues with his story nonetheless. “Where was I? Oh yeah, San found me. He didn’t tell Captain about it, but he managed to sneak some food for me quite often, and he would talk to me a lot while he was there. Probably because he was new to the crew and didn’t really like chatting with new people at the time. Maybe it was easier to talk to me since I was a stowaway. But anyway, I asked him to tell me when the ship reached Mensa, and San said he would. He also offered to help smuggle me off the ship when we got there. Two days before we landed on Mensa, Captain came down and caught San talking to me. He made a comment about finally seeing the stowaway resting in his ship, so it turns out he knew I was there the whole time. San asked him not to hurt me since I was only around fifteen at the time. I was a “kid” or something. Captain said he never intended to hurt me in the first place, but he knew I was trying to get to Mensa because the barkeep I worked for was a bit loose-lipped. “

“Does Hongjoong recruit every stowaway on the ship?” You inquire, only have serious, and Jongho chuckles a bit.

“He seems to have a track record for that, doesn’t he?”

“Okay, but why Mensa? There are many other arguably nicer planets you could’ve gone to.”

“Not a fan of the desert and the scalding heat that will melt the skin off your face? Wow, I figured that would be your favorite kind of weather!”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. It’s actually my favorite right behind poisonous swamps and fumes that will choke you out in less than a minute!”

“Damn, that’s a good one,” Jongho whispers, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna use that one on Yeosang next time he acts like a smartass.”

“I thought that was constant.” Jongho snorts and rubs at the skin between his eyes. You laugh as well, proud of your little remark, then Jongho answers your initial question.

“I supposedly have family on Mensa. Somewhere in that god-forsaken heat. Eventually I’ll ask Captain if we can go there. I would like to meet the family I have there, but right now, I don’t think I can.”

“Why not?” You ask, but it feels like you’re beginning to tread on eggshells, because Jongho looks off at the wall as the two of you walk. His eyes glaze over a little bit. For a moment, you think he’s just going to ignore your question and carry on in silence.

“Things have changed over time,” he says at last. His steps slow to a halt, and you come to a stop beside him. The cargo bay lays ahead of the two of you, but Jongho doesn’t go in quite yet. “It’s been seven years since I joined the crew, and I was young at the time. Not very mature or grown-up. Lots of things have changed now that I think about it. Some things happened in the past that I need to work through and confront. I should take care of that before meeting the family I have on Mensa.”

You want to inquire further, mostly on account of your curiosity, but also because it seems to be an odd goal to have. You don’t get the chance to ask though.

“Oh, Mingi! You’re already here!” Jongho exclaims, lips stretching into a wide smile. You jerk your head forward and find the tall Berserker standing in front of you. His stature alone is intimidating, but the blank void in his dark eyes serves to be far worse. You swallow the sudden lump that has arisen in your throat. He looks you over from head to toe. The lack of emotion in his expression doesn’t sit well with you, and you hold your breath until he turns around, a huff of air leaving his lungs as he steps further into the cargo bay without a word.

Jongho is altogether unfazed by the odd encounter between you and Mingi. When you glance up at him with inquiry in your eyes, he merely shrugs and moves closer to the wall.

“Is he in a bad mood or something?” You mutter, eyeing Mingi’s back as he walks further away. Jongho releases a loud laugh, and you want to smack him upside the head because Mingi most definitely heard that laugh, and you would rather not get on the bad side of a Berserker who could crush you in an instant.

“Mingi doesn’t have moods,” Jongho answers. He grabs something off the wall – a tablet from the looks of it – and taps away at the screen until it lights up. “At all. Or emotions in general. Well, no. He has emotions, but he doesn’t know how to show them or anything like that. Doesn’t understand what they are. That kinda thing, you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I – you’re so dry.”

“No, I really don’t understand!” You retort.

Jongho laughs, walking further into the cargo bay, and you trail after him. He works opposite Mingi; both men log cargo with matching paces, and you don’t want to disturb Jongho while he works, so you just look around the bay with little interest. Nothing is interesting about crates upon crates of goods. Your gaze keeps slipping back to Mingi’s form though. Everything about him appears to be normal, but something about those eyes is unsettling and strikes fear in your stomach.

You wait until Jongho wraps around the back of some crates, eyes peeking out to make sure that Mingi is out of earshot before moving back to Jongho to ask him a few questions.

“Can you tell me a bit about Mingi?”

He lifts an eyebrow but continues to work as though you didn’t say anything.

“Please?” A hesitant sigh escapes him, and you worry that you’re prying too much for a few seconds, but Jongho dispels that concern with his next words.

“Sure, what do you want to know?”

“Anything. I can’t understand him, and I’ve never really interacted with him. Compared to the other crewmembers, that is…”

“Right, yeah. That’s how it is when people meet Mingi for the first time.” Jongho nods, continuing his work as he speaks. “Mingi’s personality is hard to read. I mean, he seems simple, but there’s a lot of facets to him. He does anything Captain tells him to. Likes to watch Yunho work and listen to him talk about medical and philosophical shit. Talks to him a lot about emotions and understanding them better. Since Berserkers absorb emotional auras, he struggles a lot with keeping his emotions in check and not absorbing too much from the people around him. I’m better about controlling that only because my parents taught me how to as I grew up. And even if I’m not able to control it, they taught me how to keep it in and not let the aggression break through. Mingi can’t do that. He’s very much a loose cannon with little control. Innocent in a way because he doesn’t understand emotions, but brutal and harsh. Moreso than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s the way he was programmed though, and it’s hard to rewire something like that, especially a Berserker.”

“But… how did he get to be like that?” You ask, keeping your eyes on said man across the bay. He works in a rhythmic and robotic manner, almost like he isn’t quite human.

“Do you know the nickname the military has for him?”

“I-I – uh, no, I didn’t – didn’t keep track of everyone. I honestly only knew of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Yeosang through word of mouth more than anything. But no one else.”

“He’s called the Brute of Kebos.”

You snap your head towards Jongho as you process the words. Jongho doesn’t look back at you, however, he continues to tap away at his tablet, glancing between the screen and the crates in front of him every once in a while.

“For six years, he fought in an arena here on Kebos before they were outlawed. He would win every single time. Every fight. Flawless record. By the time he was sixteen, he was at the top of everyone’s bet lists and at the top of the arena, which was expected because his father was in charge of the arena. He had won countless matches and beaten plenty of people. Kill after kill. Apparently, he was always eager to fight and kill. He was taught that people die every day, so no life is valuable or worthy of mercy. Death is natural, and it isn’t wrong to end someone’s life even if they’ve done nothing wrong. His body count… it’s unimaginable.”

You swallow roughly, and the sound seems to echo in your ears. It’s so loud that Jongho must hear it, but he doesn’t comment.

“Wh-Why would Hongjoong keep such a loose cannon on the crew?” You ask in attempts to recover a bit of a calm demeanor.

“He’s useful in certain situations and on certain missions. Doesn’t complain or anything like that either, which must be nice for Captain.” Jongho hesitates and lifts his chin. His gaze doesn’t focus on the crates this time. “Things haven’t been the same since the last incident though.”

“What do you mean? What incident?”

Jongho recovers in an instant, eyes growing wide, and he shakes his head to refocus on the tablet in his hands.

“What incident? No one said anything about an incident. There’s no incident.”

“You’re so bad at lying, Choi Jo–”

A crash interrupts you. Jongho drops the tablet and lunges forward. His hand grips your hip tightly, and he pushes you behind his body as he looks out towards where Mingi just was. You can’t see past his broad shoulders, but there is an undeniable spike of tension in the room now. Jongho’s stance is defensive – almost like he’s trying to shield you or protect you in some way.

“Mingi?” He calls out, tone hesitant and wary. His whole body is rigid before you, a stark contrast to your trembling hands and racing heart.

“Sorry, I knocked something over.” Mingi’s tone is cool and flat. There is no aggression in it, and that seems to calm Jongho down some.

“Carry on then,” Jongho says with a nod. His hand leaves your hip, shoulders relaxing back to their normal state, and you step out from behind him to examine Mingi. He wears a strained and awkward smile, and Jongho’s right – there is a strong sense of innocence about his actions. He moves back behind the crates before you can stare any longer.

“You thought he was going to hurt me, didn’t you?” You state when Jongho turns back to face you. His eyes drag over your features, then he shakes his head a few times.

“That’s only part of it,” he mutters, stooping to pick up the tablet he dropped. “The incident I mentioned… one of the crew died by Mingi’s hands during it. I was the only one there when it happened, and I couldn’t stop Mingi. I guess it’s just – just another burden of guilt that I have to bear.”

Another? You note, eyes narrowing on Jongho. He motions back towards the crates without paying your expression any mind.

“We should finish this up. I want to get back to playing poker so I can kick your ass. You’re playing the next round since I showed you how to play the first time.”

You scoff at his cheeky remark. “I’ll show you how to play since you’re so fucking awful at it. The only thing I learned from watching you was how to be bad.”

“Ouch, those are bold words. That’s something to look forward to then. It’ll be like when we spar. You talking big, then me inevitably planting you on your ass every single time.”

“Okay, for the record, I let you win. Men have fragile egos, and you need to be preserved, Jongho. What kind of person would I be if I destroyed that fragile ego?”

“Oh, so you’re being gracious then?”

“I’m letting you feel good about yourself.”

“Well then, maybe I’ll let you win poker so that you can feel good about yourself. How about that?”

You don’t respond; instead, you merely shake your head and roll your eyes a bit. There’s a bit of levity in the air now, one that you welcome with open arms. It’s been too long since you’ve been able to let yourself joke around like this with other people, casting your worries to the side and letting things happen. It sends you back to a small room on Eros, one full of six wide-eyed recruits all falling under the guidance of one Han Jisung, and for once, you relive the memory with a sense of peace in your mind.

✧✧✧ a/n: oh yeah it’s all coming together everything is coming together ;) okay but fr i hope you guys enjoy this part, it’s a bit more lighthearted and quite a bit of a break compared to our regular angst, but y’all deserve a break for putting up with my angsty ass 💆‍♀️ i hope you enjoyed learning more about our resident berserkers 🤧 next chapter things are heating up 👁👄👁

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[samthemarvelfan]

Goodbyes: Chapter Nine

Summary: Ella Monroe is the Avengers newest recruit, handpicked by Steve Rogers himself. Indebted to him for reasons unknown, Cap pairs her up with Bucky Barnes. He is tasked with training her to relearn and hone the skills that have long since rusted. Bucky is cold and distant, and Ella can’t seem to break through the wall he’s built up for decades. He sees something in her though, and it scares him to death. Has the fate of these two strangers been sealed? …or will they always be longing…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Warnings: A N G S T, Bucky is a dick, slow burn, alcohol, flirting, swearing...there was one more thing, now what was it...oh yeah SMUUUTTT.

A/N: Hey quarantine pals! I hadn’t planned to get this chapter up this early, but if it helps any of you escape the current situation we’re all in, then I’m all for it! Please enjoy! This chapter is a long one, but worth it, I promise! Sadly, this story will soon coming to an end, but I can’t wait to show you all my next work! As always, any feedback is so appreciated!

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @heartofagamotto @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!) Tags are OPEN! Just send an ask :)

Your heels were abandoned before you hit the elevator.

Bucky was no where to be found. He has somehow managed to disappear in the 60 seconds it took you to make your way out of the party.

“Fucking super soldier...” You grumble under your breath.

You figure he’d probably gone back to his room like the petulant child he was being, so you jumped in the elevator, heading for your floor.

You were in the middle of rehearsing what to say to him when the doors opened. Peeking down the dimly lit hallway, your eyes landed on the body moving quickly in your direction.

You stepped out of the elevator, hearing the doors close slowly behind you before you took another step. You stealthily pressed the lower level button, sending the lift all the way to the bottom floor.

Bucky appeared before you, the anger and frustration obvious on his face; but you weren’t going to let him avoid you...not this time.

“Move.” He said harshly, his cerulean eyes glaring at you.

“No.” You reply confidently, standing your ground.

“For fucks sake, Ella...” he tried to step by you, but you grabbed his wrist.

That’s when you spotted the bottle of whiskey held firmly in his hand; already 3/4 of the way gone.

“When did you drink that?” You asked, worry coating your words.

He smirks and takes another swig. “Nabbed it from the bar on my way up.”

You’d scoff shaking your head, “You’re unbelievable.”

Bucky lets out a laugh, “Oh I’m unbelievable?” He takes a step closer to you, and you smell the alcohol on his breath.

Your face heats up from your own semi-drunken state, and you step back from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask.

“You know what the fuck it means, Ella.” He slurs. “Why are you here? Why did you follow me? Won’t Steve be missing you?”

There it is.

Your plan to make Bucky jealous had indeed worked, but now it seemed like it was backfiring.

He moves to walk past you back down the hallway towards his room, but you follow him.

“What about you? Won’t Nat wonder where her date went?” You ask, bitterness evident on your tongue.

Bucky stops abruptly and turns around, “What was that Els?” He asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Just...forget it. Give me the whiskey, Bucky.” You reach out to snatch it from him, but he quickly yanks his arm back, and chugs the rest of it.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?!” You yell.

He laughs, stepping close to you, handing you the now bone-dry bottle, “Please, with my metabolism, I’ll burn it off in 20 minutes. Unlike those shots you were downing all night.”

Your frustration is at its peak now. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” He asks with disdain.

“This! You’re being an asshole for no reason!” You shout, the alcohol dissolving your inhibitions.

“You barely said two fucking words to me since you got back! And you didn’t even have the fucking decency to say goodbye to me when you left!” You shout at him.

He was quiet, if only for a moment. “Oh, so that’s why you’re snuggling up to Steve? You’re mad at me so you decided to move onto my best friend? The guy you’re ‘not fucking’ right?”

The regret on his face was evident the moment the words left his lips. You spotted the dilation in his pupils as he took in what he’d just said to you.

“Wow.” You say pushing past him. “Fuck you.”

You know he’s following you, but you don’t care. You push your door open praying it would latch shut before he could enter, but of course, it doesn’t.

You walked to your dresser, discarding the earrings and necklace you wore when Bucky appeared in the mirror behind you.

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just pretty fucking obvious you two have feelings for each other!” He said a bit louder than intended.

“Why, Bucky? What makes it obvious?” You ask, crossing your arms and facing him now.

He looked taken aback by your question, and you scoffed. “What is it Buck, the fact that we laugh together? Talk to each other? Trust one another? Care about each other?” You ask.

“Christ, I get it! Yes! All of that!” He shouts, throwing his hands up.

“Ya know what that’s called, James? A fucking friendship!” You shout at him.

He looks at you with confusion and concern.

James.

You’ve never called him James.

You cross your arms once more, “You told me you were gonna earn my trust, and I believed you. But this guy,” you gesture to him, “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Bucky scoffed, “Right, because we know each other so well. We’re fucking strangers, Ella.” He quipped, resentment in his tone.

Those words hurt your heart. It wasn’t until this moment you felt the tears of frustration and sadness prickle your eyes.

“Yeah? And who’s fucking fault is that?” You ask with a trembling voice. “You pretended to hate me for months so I would leave you alone, all because you felt something for me, but you’re too afraid to let anyone in.”

You wipe your eyes quickly, “This push-and-pull thing? It’s not fair to me. I’ve tried to breakdown this fucking wall you built around yourself, and every time I think I’m getting close, you shut me out!”

His jaw clenched at your words and at the sight of the tears you were so desperately trying to hide.

“I wasn’t something to run from, Bucky.” You speak softly.

His hands fall to his sides as he takes a step forward, “Ella, I—“

“No, Buck. I’m done with...whatever this is. I can’t do it anymore—my heart can’t do it anymore.” You walk the few steps to your door and open it. “Please leave.”

He looks as if you’ve just knocked the wind out of him. He wants to protest, you can see it. The shift in his eye from anger to regret to sadness. He doesn’t fight you though, Bucky leaves without another word.

When the door latches, you let the tears finally fall as you slide down against the it.

3 hours later and you’re sober and sleepless.

You’ve chugged water and taken some ibuprofen to prevent an early morning headache, but right now the only thing aching was your heart.

Bucky broke you, and you weren’t even his to break.

But he was what you wanted—Who you wanted, but you can’t force someone to want what they don’t.

You wonder if what Bucky said about his metabolism was true. He was so drunk when he left your room. Dangerously so.

You recall how he staggered out, and how strongly he smelled of whiskey, even 3 feet from you.

“Let it go, Ella. Let. It. Go.” You mutter to yourself. Tossing and turning in your bed for the 1000th time.

What if he’s passed out on his back and he throws up and chokes to death? What if he took a bath and fell asleep in the tub and drowned? What if he tripped and hit his head and—

Your brain kept repeating the most tragic of scenarios over and over until you couldn’t take it. You’d check on him quickly, confirm he’s still alive and an asshole, and hopefully come back and actually sleep this night off.

The soft padding of your feet was all you heard as you stepped down the hall, stopping in front of Bucky’s room.

Your hesitation was to be expected, but the 4 minutes you stood there doing nothing was a bit ridiculous.

“Shit...” you seethed, knocking on the door several times.

You waited for an answer. Nothing.

Another quick set of knocks.

Nothing.

Your heart began to race. Did something happen to him?

You twisted the knob, and to your surprise it opened.

“Bucky?” You called out.

His room was dim, the navy blue of the walls barely discernible from black in this light. The bed was mussed, and there was a notebook and pen on the nightstand.

“Bucky!” You shout, more panicked than you realized,

The bathroom door swings open suddenly, revealing a wet, shirtless Bucky just feet from you.

“Jesus, Doll. What’s the matter? You alright?” He asked, concerned.

A breath you weren’t aware you’d taken was released from your lungs.

“I-I got worried. You drank so much and I kept picturing you drowning in the bathtub or something, I don’t know.” You shake your head in embarrassment.

He smiled softly, the light casting the perfect shadow onto his strong features. It was obvious he’d just showered, and he smelled good.

“I sobered up ‘bout 15 minutes after I left your room. Told ya, perks of the serum.” He dried his hair quickly with a towel, before tossing it into the hamper.

You nod, relief flooding your chest. “Good.” You start to fidget with the drawstring if you’re red cotton shorts, “Since you’re alive, I’m just gonna—“

“You don’t have to go.” Bucky says suddenly.

He steps closer to you, his basketball shorts hanging low on his hips.

Focus, Ella. You think.

You sigh, “Yeah I do, Buck. I really do.”

You turn and head for the door. Your hand is on the knob when you hear him speak again.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, okay?” He says.

You’re breath gets caught in your throat, but you manage to turn to face him. “What?” You ask.

“If I had seen you before I left for that mission, I wouldn’t have gone. If I had to say the word ‘goodbye’ to you, there’s no way in hell I woulda got on that jet, Els.”

Bucky stands like a boy in trouble, waiting for you to scold him. When you don’t, he decides to keep going.

He lets out a puff of air, “I’m not good at this, Ella. I haven’t felt something—anything for a long time. Then you fall into my life and I can’t think straight. I open my eyes in the morning, and it’s you. Before I close them at night, it’s you. You’re it, Els.”

As he spoke you stepped closer to him, all thoughts of leaving, abandoned at this point.

“I had to leave before everyone else, or I swear to God I wouldn’t have gone at all. That mission...I knew it was important, but nothing is as important as you. I wrote you a letter and everything in case...”

“In case what, Bucky?” You ask nervously.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, Doll. In case something happened to me over there and I couldn’t come home to you.”

Your heart clenched at the thought of never seeing Bucky again.

“I’m not good with my words. I used to be, hell I could charm the pants off anyone back in my day, but now...you got me all outta sorts. Here...” he walked to his nightstand, you followed at his heels.

He opened the drawer, taking out an envelope and handing it to you. “You can read it if you’d like.”

Bucky and you sat on the edge of his bed, the gray comforter soft and inviting on your skin.

You opened the envelope with trembling hands and read it to yourself.

Hey Els,

I’m betting you’re pretty upset with me. Please don’t be. I couldn’t bear the thought of saying goodbye to you.

God I’m hoping we make it back. I’ve never had a reason to fight so hard before you, Els. Now, it’s like I’ll do everything and anything I can to come home to you.

If I don’t come home, please know you were the last thing on my mind. I’m kicking myself right now for not making you my girl when I had the chance.

That would be my biggest regret.

Actually, no. My biggest regret would be not kissing you. Jeez, Doll. I’ve thought about doing it so many times, but it never felt like the right moment. That’s the first thing I’m gonna do if I get outta here. I’m gonna love you and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow.

Keep smiling at the sunrise, Gorgeous. I’ll see you when I see you.

-Bucky.

Your hand covered your mouth, as your eyes welled with tears. Bucky noticed and perked up immediately.

“Please don’t cry, Doll. I’ve made you cry so much already. I’m sorry.” He said wiping your tears away with his thumb.

This man. This wonderful, beautiful man had your heart, and you didn’t know it, but you’ve had his all along.

You turned your body towards him. “Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” You ask with a sniffle.

Bucky’s hand stroked yours, “I couldn’t leave that kinda pressure on you. Beside if you didn’t feel the same, I don’t know what I woulda done.”

You folded the letter and gently put it back in the envelope before placing it on Bucky’s nightstand.

“Do you?” Bucky asked.

You smiled knowingly, “Do I what?”

Bucky’s hand found your face, his right palm warming your cheek. “Do you feel the same, Els?”

Your hand gripped his as his cool metal one pressed against your other cheek, creating an electrifying contrast.

You moved toward each other like magnets, as he held your face in his hands.

“Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

Bucky didn’t need to be asked twice. In moments his lips were on yours, making your body feel weightless.

Senses buzzing, Bucky’s mouth on your own, feeling his stubble prickle the skin around your lips. This pent up frustration and want for him finally being released caused your mind to spin.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, nibbling at your bottom lip. Bucky quickly lifted you over his lap, so you were straddling him on the edge of the bed.

His hands moved slowly down your body, resting on your hips for a moment before finding the curve of your ass.

“Els, Ella wait...” he said, breaking your kiss.

You can feel the swelling of your lips, and notice his must be just as red as yours. “What’s wrong?” You ask.

He smiled, “Nothing, baby, nothing I just...” he stroked his hands back and forth over your hips as he spoke, “If we do this, there’s no going back. Not to what it was...I can’t. You gotta be my girl.”

You smile, kissing him once more. “I’ve been yours, Buck.”

His lip is drawn between his teeth as he tucks his head in the crook of your neck, peppering it with wet kisses until he stops at the spot below your ear.

This earns a soft moan from you and you feel Bucky smile against your skin. “Fuck, I could listen to that all day.” He groans.

With one hand on your back, Bucky flips you over, laying you on his bed. “Can I see you, Doll?” He asks playing with the hem of your shirt.

Your only response is sitting up slightly; enough for him to lift the shirt over your head. Bucky is back on you again, his shirtless torso resting on yours as he trails sloppy, wet kisses down your chest.

The cool metal of his left thumb brushes over your already peaked nipple, while his warm, wet tongue swirls and sucks around the other.

“Mmm, Bucky.” A barely coherent praise. His touch made your skin burn with want and between your legs drip with lust.

He moved to the center of your abdomen, kissing down the middle, stopping right above your shorts.

He looked up at you, lips still attached to your skin. His eyes had never looked this way, the lust and the want and the eagerness to please you. He was love-drunk and you loved it.

In a flash, he pulled your shorts down, tossing them into the darkness of his bedroom. You were laid out for him fully now, no where to hide; on display for his taking.

You suddenly are very aware of every flaw you’d ever noticed in yourself. As Bucky stands quickly to remove his shorts, your eyes lock with the ceiling and you cover what you can.

“Oh baby, no.” He coaxes you. His honey-smooth voice coating your ears in praise. “Please don’t hide from me. You’re—“ he pauses to move your hands to above your head.

His lips is drawn between his teeth a his eyes roam your curves. “Christ...you’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes.

Bucky smoothly pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, “I’m gonna taste you, Doll. I’ve got too, that okay?”

You nod, feeling goosebumps prickle your skin as his rough fingertips trace patterns up your legs. You watch as he drops to his knees, and starts to pepper your inner thigh with sweet kisses.

Bucky pauses when he gets to your heat, inhaling you in your most intimate of places. He’s marking you, memorizing your scent.

He places a chaste kiss against your clit. Sending fireworks up your spine.

Another kiss.

You watch him as he starts to devour you, only a moment before you throw your head back in rapture.

“Oh my God, James...” You moan wildly.

A gruff laugh escaped Bucky, “James huh? Mmm, I like that.”

Bucky licks your heat with wild abandon, sucking your swollen clit skillfully, bringing you to the precipice of release.

Your fingers grip his hair, grinding your hips toward his magical tongue. All too quickly though, he pulls away. “Not yet, Gorgeous. Wanna make you cum with my cock our first time.”

You groan in frustration and anticipation. Bucky stands from the bed once more, and you sit up. Eyes locked on his face as you look up through your lashes. You scoot forward and hook your fingers into the band of his briefs, and pull them down.

The quiet gasp that passed your lips earned a chuckle from him. His cock is at full attention, long and thick as you knew it would be. Swollen pink tip coated in pre-cum.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, gripping his length, stroking him a few times.

“Shit, Doll...” he whispered.

You took his length in your mouth, and felt him shiver in your grasp. As you drop to your knees, his cock never leaves your mouth. You bob you head a few more times, feeling the tip touch your throat.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that...need to be inside you, Sugar.”

You coat his member in a final lick before scooting yourself back on the bed. Bucky crawled over you, kissing your mouth gently. Lovingly.

He leaned back, hooking your legs up with his hands, and nudging them open. As he moved forward to kiss you again, he slowly filled your heat.

“Oh shit...” you moan. Soon he’s buried to the hilt, resting in you for a moment. While you definitely needed to adjust, it felt like Bucky was made for you.

“Fuck, so tight, Els.” He moaned into your neck.

You lift you legs a bit, allowing him more access to you as he starts to move. His full length giving you more pleasure than you thought possible.

Bucky’s lips find your own, as your hands grips his hair. His movements aren’t reckless, each thrust was designed to pleasure you.

Bucky brings himself up onto his knees while he fucks you. Your breasts bouncing wildly, and he chestnut locks swaying to the same rhythm.

There’s nothing else that matters to you. In this moment, you’re his.

Bucky dips his hand down to where the two of you meet. He coats his thumb in your slick before pressing it to you clit. “I want you to cum with me, Doll.” He breathes.

He draws quick circles with his thumb, and you feel the pleasure building below your stomach. His thrust are hard now, deliberate.

“Fuck. Bucky, I’m gonna...oh my God...” you moan as you feel yourself about to let go.

“Cum with me, Ella. I’ve got you...” he moaned.

And you did.

The fire spread through your veins in a flash as you came, feeling high on the love Bucky had just made to you.

He came with the most animalistic moan as you felt his hot release inside you. Lowering himself to you and repeating your name like a prayer on his lips.

Mess be damned. Bucky moves to the side of you, pulling you in close and face to face.

“I’ve wanted that—you for so long, Els.” He speaks, catching his breath.

You scoot up to capture his lips with yours. A reply he understands, you’ve wanted this as long as he has.

“I-I love you. Honest to God, Doll. I love you.” He says, voice full of emotion.

You rest your hand on his face, stroking his scruff gently. “I love you.”

Bucky smiles as his eyes close, and he rests his forehead against yours.

He holds you for what feels like hours, until you see the glow of a new day’s sun shining from the crack between his curtains.

Bucky is sleeping peacefully, deep and rhythmic breaths making his strong chest rise and fall.

You took this opportunity to clean yourself up. Using a washcloth you’d found in the linen closet to take care of the mess Bucky had made of you.

When you crawled back into his bed, his arms had found you once more.

“Mm, thought you left me, Sugar.” He groaned sleepily.

You chuckle to yourself, stroking his hair off of his face. “Never.”

A chaste kiss from you is planted on his forehead, and he pulls you close.

It’s quiet for a moment, before you hear him speak. “Thank you, Els...”

“For what?” You ask sincerely.

Bucky sighed, and stroked your hair gently. “For seeing me, when I tried so hard not to be seen.”

You smiled shyly. “I love you. Come on now, get some sleep. I have a feeling we won’t be getting any for the next few nights.”

You feel him smirk against your skin. “Babydoll, you have no idea.”

Chapter 10 (Finale): Be

[retvenkos]

cold coffee // theseus scamander

Harry Potter: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them - Theseus x platonic!Reader, Theseus x Leta, angst

A/N: ha ha, did i mention angsty theseus? leta’s death just really hits hard this week, idk why.

Summary: Few knew how to take care of Theseus Scamander better than you, but looking at his blood shot eyes and shattered expression, you wondered if, for once in your life, he was beyond your saving.

Theseus’ hands shook, calloused fingers curled inward as though still holding his wand. He closed his eyes, but comforting darkness did not greet him. Instead, blue fire played against his eyelids, bright flames pushing him backward, attacking him without mercy, separating him from the one he loved most.

Leta.

Her purple dress, tattered and burning. Her eyes, steadfast and alight. Her entire being, walking away from him and igniting in the blue flames that would seal her fate.

Did it hurt? Was it over before she could register the pain? Leta had faced her crucible so young and she had learned to love the flames. Were they kind to her, at the end of things?

Theseus’ whole body was sitting on edge and when the air cracked with an apparition, he jumped. His mind immediately thought it was her, as though through some stroke of luck, she had made it out.

You stood there, a few paces in front of him, your forehead creased into disbelief and concern, your breathing still trying to catch up with you, throat still raw from your scream of grief.

Leta.

You had known her since you were young, when she was a girl and just four years younger than you, although her eyes had the weight of years beyond that. She had been aimless, then, unsure of where to go or who to become and you had given her direction. It was like having a younger sister, someone to worry over and guide, someone to encourage. 

She has looked up to you, almost. It was hard for Leta to trust anyone, let alone love and admire. It had been your joke that one day you would do something grand enough to earn her approval. She couldn’t easily give it to you now, could she?

You didn’t know what to say. What do you say to a man who isn’t a widower but grieves like one? 

One thing was for certain - it was time to leave Paris.

You stared at him, but his eyes saw past you, seeing a place that wasn’t in front of him, seeing a woman who was no longer. 

You stepped forward and gave him a hug. His body was hesitant to respond, not ready to accept your condolences. Theseus had seen enough death to know that she was gone, but he hadn’t seen enough to believe it.

Once he believed so, what would become of her? Who would his Leta be?

Your face brushed against his coat and deposited tears, there. You grasped him a little tighter and disapparated.

Crack!

You let go of Theseus and took a step backward, your shoes shuffling against the carpet of your apartment. Your dinner still sat on the kitchen counter, the food abandoned and cold after hearing news of what had happened in the search for Grindelwald. You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

You pushed it away to make room for your first aid kit. Theseus had a few burns on him, and you knew he wouldn’t get to treating them himself.

“Come here, Theseus,” you said softly, your voice feeling oddly out of place in your throat. It wavered when you continued, “let me help.”

You worked in silence, helping him out of his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, your touches soft as you pressed a thick salve to his burned skin. You were no healer, but you did your best to fix all that you could. Few knew how to take care of Theseus Scamander better than you, but looking at his blood shot eyes and shattered expression, you wondered if, for once in your life, he was beyond your saving.

“How did you know?” His voice was raw from crying, cracked from trying to hold himself together.

"Newt and a woman apparated here. They said you hadn’t left the cemetery.” You couldn’t look at him and instead focused on cleaning up. Theseus would sleep here tonight and tomorrow everyone would make their way to Hogwarts. You weren’t sure why, but you hadn’t had much of an opportunity to ask Newt when he was here.

You were both worried over Theseus. Newt reckoned he would have stayed there the whole night if you didn’t take him away. You had always been better with comforting Theseus after something went wrong. You were the first person Newt thought to reach out to.

You wondered if he was right to do so.

“He’s going to be coming back tomorrow. He said you have to—”

“—See Dumbledore. Let him know Grindelwald got away.”

You lapsed into silence and your hands froze above the stack of blankets before you. He’d ask about Leta. Dumbledore would be the first of many to hear the news, to look at him apologetically, to mutter their condolences with pity in their tone. How would he make it through?

You grabbed the blankets and held them to your chest - you had to focus on tonight. “You can sleep in the bed.”

Theseus shook his head, still not all there, but cognitive enough to be chivalrous. “I’ll take the floor.”

“You’ll never fall asleep.”

“I won’t, anyway.”

You sighed and took a seat at the table, gesturing for him to sit down. He joined you, one hand rubbing over the other, drawing circles on his skin. “You need to sleep, Theseus. This night will never go away - you don’t need to exhaust it now.”

“What else can I do?” He considered your pained expression for a long moment, and you heard something earnest in his tone, a searching for direction. You were unsure where to lead him. Where was he, if not by her side?

“Rest.”

It’s what Leta would have wanted.

You bit back the rest of your statement, feeling the wound too fresh to be examined.

You stood and put a hand on his shoulder, his muscles tight beneath the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t think on your words for too long before standing, allowing you to lead him to the tiny bedroom where he would stay for the night.

“Take the bed, okay?”

Ho nodded, too tired to argue.

--

Newt came by in the morning, the woman from last night behind him, and another man in tow. They shuffled into your apartment with bowed heads, their expressions subdued. You allowed them in without a word, and you sat then down at the table, pouring a strong cup of coffee for all three. 

They took their mugs gingerly, as though they sensed that the grief from last night still hung thick in the air.

“(Y/n), this is Tina Goldstein and Jacob Kowalski.” Newt introduced you to your guests and you shook their hands, remarking that you wished it were under different circumstances. They agreed and you waved away their condolences when they tried to extend them.

“Theseus?” 

“He’s getting up. He got three, maybe four hours of sleep last night. I got to him shortly after you left.”

They nodded and you nursed your cup of coffee.

“How much sleep did you get?” Tina peered at you in a way that made you feel she already knew the answer.

You shook your head.

When Theseus entered the room, Newt stood. The brothers hugged, greeting each other without words. Jacob and Tina nodded at him, and you gave Theseus a cup, your hands brushing his. He took the hot drink from you with cold hands.

He didn’t drink it while the group discussed what would happen next. You watched him intensely, noticing his reluctancy to join the chatter and planning. It wasn’t like him and although you supposed he didn’t feel much like himself, it worried you.

You didn’t expect him to move on. You had expected him to push forward, like he had when he came back from the trenches of the Great War and from auror missions gone astray. Theseus had always been quick to run from grief and focus on the next task at hand.

But what could he run to - another war? Jacob had mentioned that Grindelwald spoke of another, in the future. What was ahead of him, now? Not his wedding. Not the life he had been envisioning.

What lay beyond the events he was experiencing right now? Cold coffee that he hadn’t the stomach to drink?

You gathered the mugs from the table and shrugged on a coat.

It was going to be a long train ride to Hogwarts.

“We’re headed to a school? What happens after that?” Jacob, who you had quickly realized to be a Muggle, always seemed to be searching for answers you were not sure any of you had.

“We don’t know.” Theseus’ words shook the room into silence.

“We’ll go from there,” you assured him. “That’s all we can do.”

--

Hogwarts was different from how you left it. The uniforms were slightly different and the desks were more worn. Dumbledore looked the same, though, the twinkle in his blue eyes just as bright, his smiles just as warm.

He didn’t know what had happened to Leta.

He asked and the air was sucked out of the castle.

“She was brave,” Newt was the first one to speak. Everyone was unsure of what to say. Everything felt too harsh, too final. She was gone. Dead. Behind the veil.

Dumbledore nodded and that was it.

--

“Mr. Scamander, how does it feel to have survived Gellert Gridedwald’s Paris Attack?”

The Daily Prophet still had newspapers to sell. They still had articles to write and news to report. Aurors had died. People whispered of another war. There was no escaping what had happened. There was no moving forward. Leta’s death was around every corner, hidden behind every comment Theseus faced.

“Do you have a comment for all of the families out there that lost someone?”

“Does the Office of Aurors have any leads on where Grindelwald might be now?”

“Mr. Scamander, a comment please.”

Leave him to grieve. Just five minutes to be alone. Just an hour to think. Just a day to pack away Leta’s things. Let him be.

Please.

You would handle the questions. You would lead him away from the masses, give the reporters warning glances. There was only so much you could do, but you pressed forth the way Leta always had. She had always been able to push rumors away and handle her monsters with grace. Where was she, now? 

You answered their questions as best you could.

We’re grateful to have made it out of Paris.

We are deeply sorry to those we have lost.

We are working on a few leads for Grindelwald, but there have been no major advances.

We are working as hard as we can.

When would the questions cease? There had to be an end to this heartache. There had to be a day on the horizon when things no longer hurt.

“No more questions, please.”

“But the people need to know!”

--

Theseus’ hands no longer shook. They were frozen in time, still enough to imitate death. He breathed in, his chest expanding with the effort. He exhaled and his body shook with a sob he would not allow to break through.

War.

It was all he had ever known, all he had been allowed to comprehend from very young. Death had been an acquaintance of his ever since birth, a passerby that always seemed to be where he was, an almost friend if he had the time to introduce himself.

That was no longer the case.

Death had cheated him. It had taken the one thing he loved most, the one thing he could not live without. For what? To watch him suffer? Hadn’t he seen enough? To prepare him for what was to come? He did not think he could continue without her.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed when you apparated into his apartment, the air around you crackling with foreign energy. Exhaustion seemed to pull you downward - your shoulders sunk and your head bowed, but you were there nonetheless.

Who else was going to sit with him, allowing tears to fall down his cheeks without judgement? Who else would hand him a steaming cup of coffee and put a hand on his shoulder, sitting with him until the mug no longer warmed his cold hands?

Who else would check on him in the middle of the night, their own sleep interrupted by the instinctual feeling that Theseus was awake and too proud to seek anyone out?

Leta was no longer. It could not be her.

You took off your shoes and padded towards him, kneeling down so that you could look upward and see his eyes.

They did not want to see the world that was in front of them.

“I miss her, too.”

His arms were instantly around you, his body sinking to the floor where he could hug you and not be afraid of letting go. “I can’t do this without her.” He was sobbing, his words barely even there but their sentiment too powerful and raw to not be understood.

“I know, I know.”

“What am I fighting for, if not Leta?”

You cradled his head in the crook of your neck, smoothing his hair so it would lay flat. 

“Your fighting for the person she knew you to be.”

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 2)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: Here’s pt2 i have up to like...8 written but i’m gonna upload from here on out like weekly probably while i work to finish writing the rest of the story

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

You’ve known Byun Baekhyun for two years less than you've had your ship. You met him in Arae, a well known pirate city in the west, when you were 21 and he was 22. He was fairly well-known around the city. People knew him as a charming and witty pirate in training. He worked on different crews mainly as sailing master to whoever was willing to pay the most. If you needed information, he would most likely have it or know where to get it.

Junmyeon had gone off with Yixing to post “Help Wanted” posters in places around the city. You had snuck off for a drink in a bar. You were tired, and the three of you had been looking for more crewmen for days.

He’d slid up to your side with his best smile and a gleam in his eye that drew you into him. That and the eye patch he sported. He was possibly one of the most handsome men you had ever initially seen, with his white teeth, the sneaky look in his eye, and the earrings and jewelry adorning his body.

“You must be new around here,” he observed.

You downed the rest of your drink. He watched in silence. “Is it obvious?”

He motioned for the bartender and ordered two more of the drink you had been drinking. “Kind of. I usually know all the pretty people that frequent Arae.” The drinks were placed in front of you both. You took the one he nudged your way with a snort.

“That line work on everyone you hit on at a bar?”

He laughed around a sip of his drink. “I don’t know. Is it working with you?”

You paused in bringing the cup back to your lips to really get a look at the man next to you. He was handsome, sure. And yeah you guessed he was kind of charming with his bright smile and pretty fingers wrapped around his own drink. His hair looked soft, and the mole above his lip was kind of cute. But boy, did he have some big ass ears.

Fuck it, it had been a couple of weeks since you’d had sex. Who were you to turn down an offer like this? You didn’t even need to work for it. “Yeah I think it might be working,” you told him. His eye widened at your admission. “So, you got a place around here or what?”

He smiled fully again then, finished off his drink, stood up from his chair and held out a hand for you to take.

The moment you put your hand in his sealed your fates together.

He fucked you, against the hotel mirror, cracked in the middle when he slammed you too roughly against it. You fucked him, in the dirty motel shower when he had gone to clean himself off and you left painful bites along his wet skin and pushed him under the spray of the water and pulled another orgasm out of him with nothing but your hand and kisses hard enough to make his lip bleed. You fucked each other, one last time on the bed, arms pinned above your head as he marked your own skin with sucks and bites that stung for days after.

You lay on your back, chest heaving as he put on his boots. You had called it quits because you needed to leave soon. To find Junmyeon and Yixing. They wouldn’t be worried, but they would ask questions. Questions you didn’t have the energy to answer.

A click of metal on your wrist shocked you out of your fucked-out stupor.

“What the-” You yanked against the metal and heard it clang against the bed frame.

He stood up, straightened out his shirt and pushed back his hair, looked down at you in satisfaction. Covered in marks, cuffed to the bed, and naked as the day you were born. “Sorry, it’s nothing personal sweetheart. I had a good time, but…” he jingled the pouch of money that was in your discarded trousers on the ground.  

You stared in disbelief. A bit impressed, but more pissed off. You couldn’t really be that upset since you’d let your own guard down. “If you’re going to rob me and ditch me chained to this bed, the least you can do is kiss me goodbye, you dick.” You sat up the best you could and pulled the sheet up to cover yourself with your free arm.

He held your money pouch out of reach as he leaned down to press a rough kiss against your lips. You bit his hard enough to draw blood. When he pulled away and brushed the blood off his bottom lip with a clipped laugh, you bared your teeth. “Cute.”

You licked the blood off your own lip and spat it on the sheet at your side. He tossed your money in the air and caught it with a smirk. “Thanks for the pouch, and the sex. You’re not bad, kid,” he said appreciatively. “Good luck getting out!” He wiggled his fingers and disappeared from the room with a bounce in his step. You nodded to yourself and laughed sourly at the situation you’d been left in.

“Bastard…” you muttered as you pulled your free hand back from under your sheet. The hand you’d snuck into his pocket with the pouch of money you pulled off him as you bit his lip. “Dumbass,” you said with a smile. The money he had on him is more than what you were carrying around, you could tell from its weight. If he was going to rob you, you could rob him right back. Fuck him and his handcuffs.

It took half an hour before someone came to help you out of your cuffs. That’s how you met Seulgi. She was a maid at the hotel, and came to clean when she found you bruising your own wrist trying to yank your arm free. She used a pin in her hair to uncuff you and you offered her a job on your ship on the spot. Maybe you could thank him for that at the very least.

Every encounter you've had with Baekhyun since then has ended with one of you bleeding, beaten, or abandoned in some location with no way home. You don’t think that you’re someone who really hates anyone. You understand people usually have their reasons for doing things, and there are times when people need to die for particularly horrid crimes.

It’s never personal for you.

But Byun Baekhyun? You loathe him. You cannot fucking stand that sorry excuse for a pirate and you’re glad to know he feels the same. The hatred you feel for him, oh it’s personal. Any pain you want to inflict on him, is entirely for your own pleasure.

He smiles, all teeth, at you from behind bars. “Long time no see. Glad to see you’re in good health.” He scans you from top to bottom. “You look much better than you did the last time we met, sweetheart.”

“That’s Captain to you,” you correct. He raises his hands in mock apology. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re just your average stowaways Captain. Nothing less, nothing more.” His response in relaxed, comes out too easily.

“Bullshit,” you bite out. “Give me a real reason why you’re aboard my ship or I’ll kill you and your little friend, right here.” He raises his eyebrows but his earlier smile melts into a smirk. “I’m waiting.”

He shrugs innocently. Fuck it. You pull out your gun and shoot it once right above his head without warning. He jumps and the prisoner in the other cell lets out a surprised yelp at the noise.

“Spill it,” you growl. Your ears ring from the sound of the gun firing in such a small space, but as much as it hurt you, it had to hurt him more.

“Fuck.” He winces and digs a finger into his ear. His expression finally turns serious when he brings his attention back to your face. He looks you dead in the eye. “I know you’ve got the Princess of Atlantis aboard this ship.”

It feels as though time stops. You try to keep your expression neutral, but he must find some kind of break in your facade because he brightens immediately. The excitement in his eye makes his smile look wild. “You do, don’t you?” he asks with barely concealed mirth.

You raise your gun between his eyes. “What do you want?” You can feel the panic rising in your veins. You close your eyes for a second and try to hold in your anger. “If you don’t give me a reason not to fucking kill you both right here in the next 5 seconds-”

“I know how to find Atlantis,” he starts. You open your eyes to properly judge the words coming from his mouth. “I know how to get the princess back home. She’s been lost for years, everyone knows that. I don’t know how long she’s been aboard your ship but I know that it’s been long enough that you’ve stopped actively looking for the city.” He sounds serious enough in his explanation.

But then again, he would say anything to save his own life.

“How do you know that I’ve been looking for ways to find Atlantis?” You and your crew gave up trying to find it almost 3 years ago. Every man and his mother has been looking for the Princess of Atlantis since news broke out of her going missing 20 years ago. You didn't think that anyone had caught on to your ship looking for the lost city itself and not its lost princess.

Baekhyun rolls his neck slowly, you cock your gun impatiently. “Hold on, hold on. Give me a second!” he exclaims. “Itchy trigger finger,” he mutters under his breath. He clears his throat and settles back into seriousness. “I have my sources okay. Nearly everyone on Arae knows that she vanished and that there’s a hefty reward for her capture. Everyone has been looking for her for years, but not you. Not your ship. You’ve been looking for clues to the city itself. It doesn’t take a genius to put together the pieces that you must already know of her whereabouts.

“It was honestly a shot in the dark…assuming that she’s on the ship, but you’ve already told me everything I needed to know.” He smiles devilishly.

“I haven’t told you shit.”

“You and I both know that you’re wrong about that.” His eyebrow quirks quickly. You exhale angrily. “It’s only a matter of time before a lesser man puts together the same pieces that I did.” He tilts his head cockily. You lower your gun but keep your eyes trained on him.

Cocky bastard.

You've come to know Baekhyun as a captain known for his wits, craftiness, and unpredictability. You’ve crossed paths many a times in the past, and as much as you hate to admit it, he may be one of the smartest pirates around. Because of his reputation you are willing to believe that he gathered this information on his own and hasn’t gone around spreading it to just anyone. If he’s got a hunch about a prize, he goes after it on his own.

He may have gotten the information from real sources, but that doesn't mean that you trust him. You put your gun in its holster and decide to end your questioning there. You don’t want him to get any information out of you accidently before you get a chance to talk to your crew.

Fuck. “Don’t you have any more questions!?” he calls out after you. “I’d be more than happy to answer them!”

You continue your way out of the room, but not before tossing back a, “Shut up Byun” and leaving them entirely.

~~~

You call your first mate and navigator to your quarters for a meeting. You leave the ship in Yixing’s capable hands while you all have this dire discussion.

Fingers tap nervously on the table top as Yeri and Junmyeon settle in across from you. There’s no plan to ease into this conversation, so you bite the bullet and get right to the chase.

“Byun knows how to find Atlantis.” You hear an intake of breath but close your eyes rather than meet the looks on their faces. “I know we said that we would give up on this wild goose chase years ago. I know that. The clues back then were always dead ends, useless, or wastes of time…if not all three.” You exhale tiredly, in disbelief at the words coming from your mouth. “But I think that Byun could be telling the truth…and I may be willing to try one last time to find Atlantis…for the princess.”

You lift your eyes from the table to gauge their expressions. Junmyeon looks at you pensively, a bit of disappointment in his eyes while Yeri avoids your eyes and instead focuses on the table.

“Captain…haven’t you…had run ins with him in the past? How could you trust him?” Junmyeon asks carefully.

“Do you mean the time he locked me in the brig of his ship, tried to kill me, and then left me for dead on a deserted island? Or maybe the time he shot me in the arm at that bar in Arae because I bought the last pint of his favorite beer? Oh! Or perhaps you mean the time he tried to turn me in for a bounty on my head and I had to handcuff him to a sink and knock him unconscious just to get away?” You list a few of your encounters off the top of your head and Junmyeon winces. “Yeah, don’t worry I haven’t fucking forgotten.”

You can also remember all of the bounties that you lost to him and his crew. Your ship could be the first notified, but somehow he would manage to get there first and claim the reward that you were hired for. The information was getting slipped to him by members on your crew that he’d bribed.

Let’s just say you had to do some pest extermination and reevaluating the so-called loyalty of your crewmen.

“I don’t trust him,” you tell them simply. “But I’m willing to follow his information, if it seems trustworthy, just one last time.”

“One last time?” Junmyeon asks hopefully. Since the first days of Storm Chaser, Junmyeon has been here at your side. He’s seen you run yourself ragged trying to find the lost city in your early days as captain.

You place your hand on his. “One last time,” you assure him. You look over to Yeri who hasn’t said a word since the conversation began and can feel how tense she is. “It’ll be fine Yeri. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, then we kill Byun and the princess will stay here on the ship with the crew. We’re all a family, remember?” She smiles a bit and relaxes at your words. “Either way I win, so I just need you two to be on my side when I bring this before the rest of the crew.”

Yeri finally nods and places a hand on your shoulder. “Okay Captain,” she says with a squeeze.

“I’m in Cap’n,” Junmyeon says assuredly. “One last time.” He warns.

You smile sadly. “One last time, I promise…” you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. “I guess we should call off this other bounty hun-”

A gunner bursts into your room. “Captain, the prisoners escaped.”

You groan and stand up from the table. “Did anyone search the prisoners before we locked them up?” The gunner looks sheepish.

“We took away their swords, knives, and guns…” he starts.

You storm out of the room. “ATTENTION! I WANT EVERYONE’S ATTENTION RIGHT FUCKING NOW.” You wait a total of 30 seconds for the attention of anyone around. “I want ALL men to look for the prisoners. If you catch sight of them and they try to run…you have my explicit permission to shoot them in their fucking kneecaps. Byun is an expert lock picker so I want him brought straight to me before he’s taken back to the brig!” No one moves. “GO ON!”

~~~

Baekhyun is thrown at your feet on the main deck not long after setting everyone on the crew to find him and his accomplice.

His kneecaps are still fully intact (much to your dismay).

You look towards Minseok. “Search him thoroughly.” You glance at Baekhyun who looks all too smug about finding his way out of your brig once. “I want him striped, and searched thoroughly,” you emphasize, leaning closer to Minseok pointedly.

Minseok smirks happily. Baekhyun finally looks a bit nervous. You smile gratuitously and leave Minseok to it. You know that Minseok will get the job done and make Baekhyun regret every second of it.

“Yeri!” Blonde hair bounds over to you. “Chart a course for the closest port. We need to make a stop before we make any hasty moves.”

“Ay, Cap’n,” she says happily. You watch proudly as she ties up her hair and heads to the maps that she knows like the back of her hand. In your periphery you catch Baekhyun being dragged back below deck, but his gaze is fixed on Yeri. You frown and make a mental note to, personally, check that he’s sufficiently locked up.

He’s fucking up to something. You can feel it as clearly as you can the beginning of a storm.

~~~

A week passes on the sea with no issues. The weather has been kind, and has sped up your arrival time to Glacia, a large island close by that your ship can use to restock and prepare for its next course.

The prisoners have been quiet and fairly respectful (in the best way that prisoners can) and have caused minimal issues. You’ve sent Yixing down to try and pull information from either of them about the whereabouts of Atlantis, but he hasn’t gotten anywhere fruitful. You’re planning on waiting until getting to port and dragging the information out of Baekhyun even if it kills him.

Much to your annoyance, his presence has awoken the curiosity and gossipy side of your crewmen. It's slowly driving you absolutely batshit crazy.

You go down to the food storage to refill your canteen with drinking water, and to sneak a bottle of rum to your room (hopefully without being caught by your first mate). You crouch down among the secured bottles when whispering catches your attention. You freeze where you are in fear of Yixing or Junmyeon shaming you for stealing liquor from the storage, but you quickly recognize the voices of other crewmen as they get closer.

You strain to hear the conversation, but they start talking louder once they assume the room is empty. Mark, your junior gunner, whispers, “I heard he lost his eye fighting a baby kraken single-handedly.” You immediately know they’re talking about Baekhyun and the urge to reveal yourself and cut the conversation off is only slightly less than your desire to eavesdrop.

“I heard he slept with the eldest son of the King of Jekyll and was shot in the eye for ruining the Prince’s engagement.” Wendy, a boatswain whispers back excitedly.

“I heard that ever since he lost his eye, his fighting has only gotten better.” Taeyong, a junior sailing master says.

“That's true! He practiced fighting with one eye closed as a child and then took his own eye out to prove that he can still fight just as well and beat any other swordsman with just one eye.” Wendy says. You resist the urge to snort.

“Wow…he’s fucking crazy,” Taeyong says in shock. “The eye patch…is kind of sexy though. I have to give it to him.”

“He’s kind of amazing don't you think? He even dared try and kill the Captain multiple times…” You pick out the voice of Kun, your cook. If you’d planned on interrupting before you definitely aren’t going to now. They’re talking about you now too?

Mark gasps. “Who do you think would win in a sword fight? Have they ever fought one on one like that? I think Byun would win, the one eye thing probably makes all his other senses stronger…”

“Nah, she’s the best swordsman alive. There’s no way she’d lose a fight like that with him.” You smile as you pick out Minseok’s voice. Damn right.

“Didn’t they fuck? Did he ditch her after they had sex? Isn’t that why she hates him so much? That and the fact that he’s like…tried to murder her.” Wendy inquires. You hear a giggle.

“They definitely fucked; she would have killed him long ago if she wasn’t in love with him. They say the line between love and hate is super thin,” Taeyong says as if it's a well-known fact.

“Don’t you all have work to be doing?” You ask after hearing enough. You stand up from your spot, rum in one hand, your water in the other and your deadliest glare on your face. “Or would you all like to continue to discuss my sex life and rumored love of the son of a bitch locked in the prison of my ship?”

Everyone straightens and Mark lets out a noise of surprise.

“Sorry Captain!” Wendy, Kun, Mark, and Taeyong say in unison before scurrying from the storage room.

Minseok walks up to you with a smile on his face, and nudges your arm holding the rum with his elbow. “You planning on telling your husband about this?”

You grimace. “Don’t call him that. And don’t tell him about this,” you hiss. He laughs. “I’m still angry with you…gossiping about me on my own ship.”

“There’s nothing else to do these days, and we’ve got the ‘famed’ Captain Byun Baekyun aboard. Of course people are gonna gossip, you know it’s all in good fun.” He grabs the rum from your hand, uncorks it with his teeth and takes a huge swig. “If you were actually angry, you would have stopped them earlier. You can still scare the newer members but I know you’re not going to do anything about it.” He holds the bottle out towards you. “You were eavesdropping as if you were interested in the topic at hand,” he says smugly.

You grab the bottle with a frown. “Oh shut up…” you take a swig and hand it back to him. You point a finger at him threateningly. “Seriously, don’t tell Junmyeon or Yixing about this Minseok. I’m serious. They give me enough shit about not drinking while I’m supposed to be on duty.”

Minseok laughs around another swallow of the liquor. “Ay, ay, Captain.” His voice is nothing but playful, and you know that later tonight you’re going to get an earful from either your first mate or quartermaster based off of something they heard from an “anonymous source”.

You leave the bottle with him, a promise of “keeping this between you two and finishing off the evidence on his own” on his lips as you sulk to the kitchen for dinner and then to bed.

As expected, Junmyeon bites your ear off at dinner about drinking down in the food storage and you apologize profusely. Yeri laughs at your side and Minseok peaks his head in the kitchen with a smile and thumbs up before vanishing again.

Mutineer.

~~~

Your door slams open at the early hours of the morning startling you out of your sleep. You groan and sit up in your bed tiredly. “Listen, I said I was sorry Junmyeon. You already ripped me a new one I’m not going to drink again…” You rub your eyes and finally recognize the face in your doorway.

Yixing looks frantic and not at all bothered by your sleep driven rumbling. “There’s a ship in the distance off of starboard. A couple of our men are down, knocked out but alive and-”

“And let me guess,” you interrupt and your mind immediately switches awake. Sleep long forgotten as you begin putting on your boots. “The prisoners escaped.”

Yixing swallows, his expression turning grim. “And they’ve taken Yeri.”

Fuck.

[duker42]

Could I please get a birthday request?!?! I don't know if you are comfortable with fulfilling my rape fantasy... but I was wondering if you can write a smut where Levi is force to have sex with the reader. (Like some crazy scenario where they are captured and the option is for Levi to take the reader's virginity or they will run a train on her). He gives in and apologize before penetrating the tied up reader. She cries a little but in the end, she wanted it, and he knew she wanted as well.

Happy Birthday Anon! I hope this is what you were looking for?

*****WARNING*****NSFW/RAPE AND TRIGGERING SITUATIONS

💜Choice💜

He could hear her cry out from the next room as he struggled against the bonds that held him down. He cursed himself for getting caught, especially with Y/N with him. He knew that he should have ventured into the Underground by himself for this mission. 

The human trafficking ring that he had been trying to gather information on had quickly caught on to his intentions and surprised them in a dead end alleyway. Levi had no choice by to give up they held a knife to Y/N’s throat. If he had been by himself he would have fought it out, but he refused to put his subordinate’s life in anymore danger. 

The disgusting man that was the ringleader came back into the room where Levi was isolated. “Let’s take a little trip, everything’s all set up for you. Make a wrong move and your pretty little lady is dead though.”

He offered no resistance as he was untied and hauled to his feet. He needed see that Y/N was safe and then he would find a way to break them out of this nightmare. He was pulled into the next room and stopped short as he seethed in anger. 

Y/N was tied to a bed, her clothes had been cut off her body as she lay there, glassy eyed. There was a man sitting by her head, gun pointed at her temple. He growled as he turned to the man. “If you've touched her….”

He was cut off by the man laughing. “No, she still hasn’t been touched by my men, yet.” Levi narrowed his eyes dangerously as his veiled threat. “I’ve decided I’d rather have a show. What kind is up to you.”

Levi’s stomach flipped, he knew exactly what kind of man he was dealing with. None of the options he would be given was going to be easy on Y/N. Especially since he could see where this was going. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone was going to mount his soldier today. When he got the opportunity he was going to tear these sick bastards apart with his bare hands.

“So the choices are you put on a good show, fucking your pretty little girl there. Or I and my men each fuck each one of her holes while you enjoy the show. Your choice, your cock or six? How many do you want her to take today?” The greasy disgusting man leered at Y/N, rubbing his cock as he presented his idea to Levi, showing exactly what his choice would be. 

“What kind of fucking question is that?” Levi spat. He saw the terror in her eyes, the helplessness in their situation. There was no way that he could get to the man with his gun at her head in time. If he tried, she would be dead. 

“The question of the day.” He laughs as Levi glares at him. 

He looks at her again, his gaze running over her nude form. He had never thought of her in that way, she was a soldier under him. And now due to the circumstances, she would be under him. He wasn’t allowing those disgusting creatures come near her with their filth. His fate was sealed as he hardened his heart against the horror of his coming actions. He was going to have to rape Y/N to save her, as fucking twisted as it sounded. 

He turned back to the leader and nodded, his decision made. The man cackled with glee as he shoved him forward. “Remember boy, you make one move towards us, she’s dead. My man is a good shot.”

Levi moved over to the bed. He stood at the end and looked down on her, trying to convey his sorrow that the situation through his eyes as he climbed up to join her. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, lowering them to slid down his thighs. He was limp, not excited in the least by the prospect of forcefully taking her virginity. He knew she was pure, having overhead the girls gossiping one night in the Mess Hall over mugs of ale. 

“What’s the matter? Like boys instead?” The man taunted, sitting down in the chair.

“Rape doesn’t do it for me, fucker.” Levi shot back, his eyes still watching Y/N’s face as her eyes roamed over his naked waist. He spit in his hand and gripped himself, tugging harshly on his length. 

He watched her, kept his focus on her breasts and and face as he felt himself harden under the ministrations of his hand. He blocked out the sounds of the man grunting in interest, as he positioned himself to watch his “show”.

Levi moved over her, spreading her legs and moved to place his hand on her to prepare her when the man stopped him.

“No.” He turned his head and threw a dark glare at him.

“What?” He demanded.

“No touching her, except when you fuck her. No foreplay.” He stated, grinning at his sadism. 

“Fuck.” Levi muttered. He looked back at Y/N and leaned down. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

He gripped her hips and sheathed himself in one hard drive into her dry, tight passage. He felt her buck up under him, trying to escape his invasion of her body as she cried out in pain. She pulled against the restraints tying her hands above her head and tried to close her legs, but his waist was keeping her from doing that. 

He kept his eyes on hers, watching as she cried fat tears. He whispered his apology again as the tears slid down her face, as he waited for her to get a little more comfortable.

“Move boy!” The man shouted, not willing to give Y/N a moments consideration. 

Levi cursed under his breath as he started moving. Pulling out to surge back into her again. Her whimper of pain make his heart pound. He wanted to stop this, but knew that it was better than her being ravage by those men. He felt her start to moisten, not from pleasure but her body’s natural defense against being hurt too much. 

He kept the rhythm steady so as not to drawl the gang leader’s ire, but also to give Y/N time to accept his thrusts easier. He tried not to think about how good she felt around him. But he wasn’t able to keep his mind off of her tight walls hugging him snuggly, 

Her tears as stopped and she watched him with her face blank. He wished he knew what she was feeling, hoping that she wasn’t despising him for rudely ripping away her innocence. His hips moved in a fast pace, needing it to be done before he tried to do something stupid like kiss her. How fucking ridiculous, worrying about kissing her while he was forcibly fucking her. He scoffed at himself in disgust, if she didn’t have him throw to a Titan if they made it out of here alive it would be a miracle. 

His hips stuttered the first time he felt her clench around him. Her eyes had fluttered closed as she bit her lip. At least she was starting to feel something other than pain. He scooped his hips as he thrust, rolling his cock as he moved in her. Her breath caught and he repeated the movement. 

He felt relieved when she tightened around him again, her body finally finding pleasure, despite the situation. But he was too damn close, she was too tight. He wasn’t going to last long enough to give her an orgasm. If they survived this, and she didn’t run away from him screaming, he would have to make it up to her. 

Levi paused for half a beat. He was thinking about being with her again. Fuck. He knew that once that door opened for him, there was no way that he was going to be able to stop the errant thoughts roaming through his head. He clenched his jaw as he willed himself to hold off. He heard her gasp out lightly and her walls closed around him tighter. She wasn’t there, but he was. 

He lunged over her again, driving deeper as his cock pulsed, his release pumping into her body as he grunted quietly. 

He turned his head to find the man holding the gun was distracted, too busy stroking himself to really pay attention that his charges weren’t totally involved with one another anymore. He ripped himself from her and snatched the gun away, hitting him with it in the face. He turned and shot the leader dead, his aim true between the man’s eyes. 

He pulled up his pants as the gunman struggled to clear his sight, his eyes watering where Levi broke his nose. He found the knife the man had concealed on him and made quick work of finishing him off. Moving towards the door, he shot a look at Y/N as the door burst open and the four other thugs poured into the room. 

He was a blur of motion punching, kicking and slashing at the men until they were a pile on the floor and he stood over them, panting as he held the bloody knife. He wipe the blade clean on the shirt of one of the men and moved over to where Y/N was still tied up, her thighs sticky with his cum.

He released her quickly and moved to let her cover herself, like he hadn’t been violently intimate with her only moments before. He went back to the open door and listened intently before peering outside. When Y/N came up to him wearing the shreds of her clothes, he looked into her eyes as he jerked his head and disappeared out the door, eager to find their escape. 

~~~~~

It had been three days since they had made their way out of the Underground and back to the Scout HQ. Y/N had been taken to the infirmary and checked out. Levi had talked to Erwin and explained what had happened. He told him that if Y/N wanted to bring him up on charges, he wouldn’t fight it. Erwin had sighed and told him that he didn’t think it would come to that. But Levi still wasn’t sure. 

He had taken shower after shower, trying to clean the stain of his actions from him. He knew there was no way that he could, he would have to talk to Y/N to ease his conscience. But he was too fucking scared to see the condemnation in her eyes. 

The knock on his office door interrupted his self loathing and he called for whoever it was to go the fuck away. The door opened and Y/N stood in the doorway. He had turned around ready to rip someone a new asshole, but his eyes widened and the words died on his tongue as he saw her. 

She looked…normal. Not like the emotional wreck he had feared. She quietly closed the door and walked closer to him. She should want to be farther away, no coming close. He wondered idly if she was here to castrate him, he knew he felt that way about rapists in general.

“We need to talk.” Her voice was warm, not harsh and condemning. 

“About.” He kept his face neutral, not showing the anxiety curling in his gut. 

“You beating yourself up.” Y/N answered as she came closer still. She leaned against the edge of his desk and looked down at him. “Stop. You saved me from a worse fate.”

“Some salvation. Rape you to save you. What horse shit.” He growled. 

“While it wasn’t the way I hoped to get into bed with you, I would rather my first time be with you than any of those pigs in that house.” Y/N calmly stated. 

“What?” He mulled over her words. 

“I mean, I didn’t hate the idea of being with you. Under nicer circumstance than a gun to my head of course.” She joked. “Levi, I’m not angry at the choice you made. Don’t regret it."

Mobile MasterList

[richieisabastardman]

Saviour - Barry Berkman x Reader

Summary: After a hit gone wrong, Barry walks the streets looking for help. He manages to find it (and much more) in the strangest of places (Fluff/Sexy stuff?). 

Word count: 2559

Warnings: Body Injury, Blood, Stitches, Swearing, Sexual Situations (not smut)

Notes: This fic is set somewhere in the middle of season two of Barry, no spoilers (I don’t think). I just finished season two of Barry and wow. I decided to write something because face it Barry is hot. Hopefully you enjoy it! I’m going to continue my Richie Tozier series but I think I’ll be writing more Barry oneshots as well.

Barry’s experience with excruciating pain was vast. A gun wound here, and a stab wound there, were all realities of Barry’s past. However, as he walked down various empty LA streets clutching his arm (which was bleeding profusely) he really thought he may die. Worse than that, he was much more scared by the thought of death than he ever thought he would be. Blood continued to drip down his arm, forming a trail behind him as he continued walking. A hit gone wrong. That had been happening to him a lot recently, he thought. He considered that he may be getting too old for this work. In contrast, he also considered that he may be beginning to get used to normality. The last couple of months of dating Sally and going to his acting class had left him feeling normal. It was comfortable.

That’s why when Fuches had called him and told him there was an opportunity to make some cash, he had expected to hang up the phone or at least give Fuches an earful before he blocked him. Instead he had agreed. He had told Sally he couldn’t help her run lines because he was meeting an old friend. He was also quick to get back into routine, putting on a black hoodie and grabbing his guns. He didn’t even care how much the job was going to pay.

Barry stopped walking, planting himself in the middle of the road. He wasn’t sure where he was, but he knew he was too far from home to make it back on foot. He shut his eyes, swaying slightly with the cool breeze that blew past him. It was a quiet night, and he could hear the faint sound of cars not too far away. He considered calling an uber before he remembered his phone was broken, smashed by the man he eventually managed to kill. Realising he had no other ways to get home, he considered laying on the sidewalk and bleeding out slowly.

Just as Barry began to lower himself to the ground, the deafening sound of a helicopter hovered above him. He raised his uninjured arm to shield his eyes from its light. As it passed, he lowered his arm, his gaze fixating on what the remaining light of the aircraft illuminated. A crucifix stood tall on top of an old building. Observing the stain glass windows, Barry realised it was a church. He began to scuffle towards it. At worst I die in a church  Barry thought. Perhaps if there was a God he would take this into consideration when determining his eternal fate.

As he reached the doors, he silently pleaded that they were open (though to whom he was pleading, he wasn’t sure). He let out a sigh of relief at the sound of the door clicking open as he rested his uninjured shoulder upon it. He stumbled into the church, trying his best to be quiet as he shut the door behind him. He limped between the pews, attempting to find a room in which he could mend himself. The large hall was lit only by candles along the walls, which left shadows dancing upon them. Barry’s eyes darted around the room, following the dark shapes. He reached the front of the hall, staring up at the statue that stood tall there. A large wooden cross with a man nailed to it, his arms and chest covered in red paint. Staring at the crown of thorns upon his head, Barry removed his hoodie with his uninjured hand. He only stared for a moment longer before averting his gaze and continuing his way through the church.

Moving to the side of the statue, he found a room filled with various boxes, all stacked upon each other. Barry rummaged through the material but groaned when he found nothing that could help him. He exited the room, looking to the back of the church to see if he had missed any other doors.

“Holy shit”

Barry flinched at the sound of a woman’s voice beside him. He looked over to the statue in which he was near only moments ago. A woman, at least half his age, stood in front of it. Her eyes were running along his body, wide in what he assumed was fear. She held a box, similar to the ones within the adjacent room. Barry stood frozen, unable to even respond to her exclamation. Her eyes stopped wondering as they reached his own. To Barry’s surprise, she smiled.

“Need some help?”.

 ~

The man continued to stare at you, his eyes wide and one of them bruised. Despite his tall frame and dark clothing, you felt no fear in his presence. You could see his arm was injured, as a damp spot on his hoodie was visible even under candlelight. You put the box you were holding onto the ground, moving towards the man slowly. He moved backwards ever so slightly at your movement.

“There’s a first aid kit in the back room” you explained, gesturing behind you.

The man appeared as though he would not move until he nodded. You smiled at him again, walking to the room. You could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy but slow as they followed your own. You turned on the light and pulled out a chair in which the man sat.

“It’s your arm that’s fucked up, right?” you asked, reaching up onto a shelf in order to pull down a large red box.

The man watched you intently. He nodded his head once again.

“Okay well you’re gonna need to take that off” You said, gesturing towards his hoodie. He pulled the cloth off of his body, revealing a tight grey shirt underneath. The shirt was also stained by a circle of blood around his left shoulder which was dripping steadily down his arm. “That needs to go as well” you stated. The man looked at his shoulder and the stain and then back at you before removing the piece of clothing.

Now that he was shirtless you could see the extent of the wound. It gaped, blood violently seeping from it. It was too thick to be caused from anything other than a knife. This guy must have really pissed someone off you thought.

“What’s your name?” you asked, pouring alcohol onto a clean white rag.

He watched your actions closely. His eyes never appeared to leave your form, darting from your hands to your eyes to your legs. You almost thought he wasn’t going to respond until he softly replied.

“Barry”

“Barry” you repeated, nodding your head as you placed the rag onto the man’s wound. He let out a loud hiss followed by a range of cuss words. When you had cleaned the wound you moved back to the kit, finding a needle and thread.

“What’s yours? Your name I mean” Barry asked. He voice was so quiet that you almost didn’t hear him speak.

“Y/N” you replied. You lifted the needle and thread you had prepared in front of you. “I have to sew it up, so this next part is going to really suck” you stated.

Barry nodded his head, muttering a “It’s fine”.

Barry’s jaw clenched as you stuck the needle into the skin around his wound. You both took in a deep breath, though for different reasons. You threaded the needle through, doing your best to seal the wound.

“you’re lucky I have first aid training” you joked, attempting to distract Barry from the pain of the needle.

“Oh yeah?” he was gritting his teeth and his eyes were squeezed shut. You could tell he didn’t want to speak but you were glad he did. Mostly because it meant he hadn’t passed out on you.

“No, I actually don’t. But I did a sewing class once”

You tried to avoid adding I’m also totally just improvising right now and hoping you don’t die.

“Why are you here so late? Are you a nun or something?” Barry asked, snapping you back from your thoughts.

You laughed at his question, but he continued to stare at you, waiting for an answer.

Barry groaned as you stuck the needle into his skin again. He grabbed your hip with his free hand in order to hold onto something through the pain. You allowed him to squeeze you as tightly as he needed to. You also ignored the inappropriate warmth you felt within you at his touch.

“I’m sorry” you whispered, and he released the tension in his face, looking up at you. His eyes were wide, but no longer did it appear to be because of fear. There was a hint of awe? Relief perhaps? You weren’t sure.

“Its okay” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m not a nun” you finally replied. “My brother is a priest here and he isn’t too great with organisation. I’m helping him clean up the place”.

“Is he around?” Barry asked.

“No. He’s visiting our parents over the weekend” you said, and he nodded.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you continued your work.

“I’m almost done” you said, finishing up the stitch.

When you were finished you moved away from the older man, going back to the kit to find a band aid to cover the wound. Once you had done that you walked back to the kit, tidying it up in order to place it back on the shelf. Barry took his shirt from the floor where he had previously thrown it and put it back on. He sat back down in the chair, watching you organise the red box. You heard him call your name softly and you looked up at him, smiling sweetly. “Thank you” he said, and you nodded in acknowledgement.

Before shutting the kit, you grabbed two pills. You walked over to Barry and stood in front of him, opening your palm to reveal the two small white circles. “They aren’t morphine but they’re all we’ve got” you said, and he grabbed them, placing them into his mouth and swallowing them dry. As he stared up at you, you noticed just how bruised his right eye was. A deep purple tinge stretched below it, and it appeared to be beginning to puff up. Absentmindedly, you placed your hand on Barry’s stubble covered jaw and cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb. His breath hitched at the intimacy of your action, but he hissed when you accidently touched too close to the bruise.

His small cry of pain broke you from your trance, and you dropped your hand quickly. You weren’t sure what had possessed you to act so intimately with this stranger. However, his wide eyes and injured body made you feel protective of him. Barry’s eyes never left your face as your gaze dropped to his knees in embarrassment.

“Why would someone do this to you Barry” you asked. The words you had spoken, and the care behind them, stirred something within Barry. He lifted his large hand to your neck, gently pulling you down to meet your lips with his own. He kissed you softly, his hand making its way to rest tangled within your hair at the back of your head. You let out a hum of content and then one of discontent as he pulled out of the kiss, sitting back further into his chair.

You stood above him, lighting drumming your fingers on your lips as you looked around the room. Barry cleared his throat, scratching lightly at his stubble. “Sorry” he said “I don’t know why I did that. I didn’t mean to do that. Not that you aren’t beautiful but… that was…” he shook his head.

You nodded and smiled an apologetic smile, though you weren’t sure what you were apologising for. He seemed so lonely, you thought, as he stared up at you with those eyes again. You knew he couldn’t have been in a good place, considering the state he was in when he got here. Probably a gang war gone wrong you considered. You had heard about all the gang activity in LA before you got here, but you didn’t think you’d have it limping into your brother’s church. You also didn’t think it would be six feet tall with very broad shoulders.

“Should I get you an uber?” you asked, offering a hand to Barry so he could stand up.

He took your hand and the moment he did your body tingled. He lifted himself up but didn’t release himself from you, choosing to stare at your interlocked hands instead. He released your hands finally and you sighed, missing his warmth until he pulled you toward his chest, wrapping his arms around you. Something terrible must have happened tonight for him to act like this with a stranger you thought. However, you realised you didn’t mind what was currently happening. For some strange reason, it felt right. His arms were wrapped tight around you and you let him hold you. You rubbed his back with your hand, feeling the taught muscles underneath. He placed his face into your neck, resting his head upon your shoulder. The position must have been a strain, you thought, due to his height. However, when he nuzzled himself ever so slightly into your neck, your realised this was something you needed just as much as him.

“I just need-“ he mumbled into your neck.

“I know” You whispered, interrupting him “I know”.

He pulled away from your neck, moving to your face so he could connect your lips once again. His kisses were skilled but hesitant. Despite his hesitation, his actions drew a warmth from you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. His hands moved down your arms slowly, resting on your hips. Your hands were around his neck, playing with the hair that lay at the back of his head. He moaned into your mouth and you almost melted against him. He moved you around slowly, still kissing you, so that you could sit on the table within the room. He placed himself between your legs and you wrapped them around him, pulling him closer to you. His hands on your thighs, he kissed down your neck and you moaned, pulling at his hair. Suddenly, he froze. Leaving a final kiss on your collarbone, he brought his face back up to yours and let out a sigh. His eyes were shut, and he was breathing heavily, trying to calm himself down.

You brought a hand up to his cheek once again and he opened his eyes, staring into yours. “It’s okay” you smiled, and he nodded.

He untangled himself from you and moved to pick up his hoodie, which was still on the floor. He walked slowly towards the door, but stopped just before it, turning towards you. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again quite quickly, unsure of what to say.

“If you ever change your mind, I’m here every Sunday. My brother makes sure of that” you joked, and he smiled a tight, closed-mouth smile at you, nodding his head. You watched Barry leave the room, walking into the dim light of the church hall and finally out onto the dark LA street from which he had come.

[randomfandomimagine]

Fate Is Sealed. Chapter 8

Fandom: John Wick

Ship: John x Elizabeth (OC)

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Read it on AO3!!

A/N: For those of you who read my imagine 'We're Even', you'll realize this is pretty much it with a few things changed to better fit Elizabeth and the current situation of this story. Hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Even as I clutched my side, which was still gushing blood and threatened to kill me. Even when it was my only option because not even the Continental was a safe place anymore, knowing them to have broken the rules before. Even then, I couldn’t believe I was standing there at the front door.

I raised my arm, my knuckles hovering over the door as I hesitated to knock. Our relationship was too complicated, what if he refused to help me? What if he told me on everyone? Even worse, what if he finished the job? He probably held grudges for what I did when we first met, even if I had tried to undo those mistakes. I hoped it was just my feverish mind and that I was wrong, that the tension I felt between us was only in my mind.

My frantic train of thought was interrupted when a loud groan escaped my lips as the pain from my gunshot wound suddenly worsened by ten times. My vision became blurry and I limply fell against the door, struggling to stay on my feet and gasping for air.

The soft thud of my body hitting the door brought attention to my presence, as a barking started inside the house. I grit my teeth and straightened up as much as I could, forsaking the support that the door provided me with and instead having to hold my own weight, even if my legs threatened to buckle underneath me.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” A voice said from inside the house, causing me to swear under my breath. Footsteps grew closer as I spotted a figure through the glass.

The front door opened just as I noticed I had stained it with a bloody handprint.

“Hey” I breathed out, gulping while I swayed in place. “Long time no see”

It had been less than a day, but that moment at Aurelio’s shop felt distant and surreal.

I observed John as he blankly watched me. His black hair framed his stern brown eyes. He was wearing a casual white T-shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants. I stupidly grinned at the realization that I just saw the Boogeyman in his pijamas. Maybe it was just the blood loss, which was making me delirious.

Noticing John’s silence, I forced myself to say something. My mind worked slowly, but I managed to blurt out some sort of apology to lighten up the mood and hopefully ease his vexation.

“Sorry to disturb your peace and quiet, John” I breathed out, still clutching the bleeding wound in my side. “I didn’t know where else to go”

“Elizabeth” John gulped and clenched his jaw. “What happened?”

I took my time to answer, trying to regain my breath and focusing all my strength in staying conscious. Everything seemed too bright, but I couldn’t tell if it was because all the walls were white and contrasted with the darkness of the night or because of my feverish state.

“Business gone… wrong…” My knees finally buckled, but John was ready and he caught me in his arms before I could hit the floor.

I frowned, helplessly leaning against his chest and trying to hold on to his shoulders for support. I opened my mouth to speak but found that I had no strength to speak not a single world. John piped up anyhow.

“Were you followed?” He brought me inside the house and kicked the door so it would close behind him.

“N-No” I managed through grit teeth, now struggling to stay awake. “I made… sure…”

My strength failed me once more and John decided to completely scoop my form into the safety of his arms. It was a great relief not to have to stand on my own.

I hadn’t noticed there was another presence there, but the barking from before continued as John carried me further into his home. Two pair of paws followed after us while John hurried into the bedroom.

I closed my eyes, tiredly leaning my head against his shoulder. It seemed to somewhat stabilize me and stop everything from spinning around me. Despite our history, I felt incredible safe at that moment, his very presence being like a silent promise that everything would be okay.

When he gingerly laid me on the bed, the thought that I would get blood everywhere popped up in my head. I was most definitely delirious, worrying about his sheets while I was literally bleeding out.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back” John squeezed my shoulder before rushing off, allegedly to get a first aid kit. I immediately missed his comforting presence, but was too exhausted to call him back to me.

I got slightly startled when a soft weight fell on the bed and I looked to see the pitbull, cautiously moving closer to me. He whimpered, watching me writhing in pain and groaning, and licked my face. Somewhat endeared at such pure gesture, I weakly smiled, although I softly pushed the animal away.

John returned, his bare feet thumping against the wooden floor. Noticing my eyes were closed in exhaustion, I opened them to see him scattering the contents of the first aid kit across the bed.

Through heavy-lid eyes I watched him move, calm and efficient, as he pushed my hands aside to take a look at my wound. My hand heavily fell on his shoulder, earning a glance and a raised eyebrow from him.

“I… wasn’t sure… if you’d…” My eyes closed again, but I felt him tapping my cheek.

“Hey, stay awake” His deep voice seemed to echo around the room as he broke his silence. “If I’d what?”

It took me a few seconds to figure out he was going back to what I had just said. It was so hard to focus, and sleeping seemed so cozy at that moment. I was so very tired and just wanted the excruciating pain to stop.

“That you would… help me” I breathed out, wincing when he pressed something against my wound that stung like hell.

“Why not?” I tried to find any emotions in his voice –concern, anger, pity, contempt, fear –but it was flat and neutral.

“I tried to kill you” I replied with an attempt of a sarcastic smile.

“And you didn’t” His eyes briefly met with mine, but he quickly resumed his task.

I couldn’t help a chuckle despite my pain and weakness. Ever since I ambushed him, I still wasn’t sure if that was the right call or if it was a mistake not to kill him. But if it was the reason why I didn’t get John Wick against me and instead led me to that moment, maybe it was a good decision.

“You were shot?” He suddenly asked me, and it took me a bit again to comprehend the words again.

“I…” I gasped, feeling that speaking was exhausting. “O-Out”

John gave me a nod, and I was glad to see understood what I meant and I didn’t need to elaborate. I shut my eyes tight, though, when I realized that it also meant that he needed to stitch it since I had pulled the bullet out. I didn’t exactly remember when I did it, but I had heard the clinking noise it made when I dropped it.

“You really meant it then” I hissed when I felt the cold needle piercing my skin. “W-We’re… even”

“In fact, I owed you one” I could have sworn there was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“That’s right, I forgot…” My eyes closed themselves once more, and I decided to rest them for a bit. “History repeats itself, huh”

“In this world, it often does” He suddenly sounded so far away, his voice fading out into the void. “Elizabeth? Shit, stay awake!”

I wanted to do what he said, but I was too comfortable in the painless pit of darkness that was engulfing me.

I was surrounded by red. My heart beat quickly, pumping blood so violently that it resonated against my ears. My fingers pulled the trigger, and the sound was so loud that each time it felt like I was hitting a drum, but maybe that was my heart thumping in my chest still. Pure adrenaline traveled through my veins, clouding my thoughts and replacing them with pure instinct and muscle memory. Like an animal, like a predator.

I cringed, tensing up and jolting up at the sound of myself screaming. It was all I could fathom now. Screaming, gunshots. Fear, pain. Blood.

I gasped, startling myself awake, unable to breathe. I opened my eyes to be received with brown eyes laced with alarm, framed by a curtain of dark hair. I breathed in relief when I recognized his face.

“It’s okay, you’re safe” John whispered softly, even if his hands were tightly wrapped around my wrists. Assuming I jolted awake and squirmed, I lightly tugged at his grip and he released me.

It took me a moment to recall the latest events and understand what happened and where I was, but as soon as I did, a wave of relief washed through me.

“Oh, fuck…” I breathed out, finding myself extremely weak and my head spinning once more.

“You alright?” He asked, sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving me.

“Y-Yeah, I think so…” I lifted the hem of my shirt to reveal the bullet wound in my side, now clean and stitched closed. It still throbbed, but at least it wasn’t bleeding anymore.

“I healed your arm too” At first, I frowned at John’s words, but then I remembered that I got stabbed there. Craning my neck to look at the wound in my arm, I saw that it was bandaged too.

I was still full of bruises everywhere, and my face felt a bit swollen near the temple. But I felt much better now that my stab wound and my bullet wound were taken care of. I felt tightness in my face that told me he covered the cuts in my cheek and eyebrow too.

“Thanks, John” I told him, pouring as much honesty into my words as I could. “Really, thank you”

I watched him carefully, wondering why he allowed me in and even went through all the trouble to treat the wounds for me. Even though I had done the same thing for him once. Everything would be so much easier if I could read something in the blank canvas that was his face.

“I didn’t mean to bring you into this” I muttered, seeing as he was quiet and refused eye contact now, despite my staring.

“I can handle it”

“I know you can”

“Good”

Uncomfortable with his silence, I slowly sat up. I knew John was a man of few words, but I was so puzzled and intrigued by his behavior that I wanted some sort of explanation. A clear sign that he didn’t hold grudges against me, that he didn’t feel obligated to help me and it was a decision based on his opinion on me. On his… feelings.

“Rest” He softly pushed me back against the pillows, placing one strong hand on the side of my head in what I thought was a comforting gesture. “You’re safe here”

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to impose, that I was better and I could leave already. That I didn’t want to take up his bed and be an unwanted presence in his house. However, I pursed my lips when I recognized that harshness in his eyes that admitted no argument.

Satisfied when I didn’t try to sit up again, John nodded and stood from the edge of the bed.

“John” I held him by the hand before he could leave. He looked me over his shoulder. “Why… Why did you help me?”

“I told you, I owed you” Any warmth that might have been present in his voice when he told me to rest was now gone. “Now we’re even”

I let out a sarcastic chuckle to hide how much the impact and bluntness of his words hurt.

“So that’s why” I angrily let go of him. “It’s nice to see where we stand”

John turned around, completely facing me, and towered over me. He observed me for a moment, the dark harshness in his glance softening slightly.

“How did this happen?”

“I was adamant and angry” I gulped at the memory of the confrontation. “And kind of reckless…”

“You’re better than that”

“No, I’m not”

Another silence settled in the room, and I stirred in the spot until he spoke up again.

“What I meant is…” He averted his eyes for a moment, I couldn’t tell if in annoyance or resignation. However, I did know he pretended he didn’t hear me. “Who did this to you?”

“You don’t want to know” I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh, utterly exhausted. “You’re involved enough already”

“That’s cute” John chuckled, surprising me so much that I opened my eyes to look at him. He bore a sarcastic expression.

I sat up again and supported my weight in my elbow even if my arm was shaking and begging me to lie down again. Despite the icy glare he threw me, I maintained eye contact.

“I know you can handle it, Boogeyman” I poured venom in my words, offended by his patronizing demeanor. “That doesn’t mean I want to drag your ass into something that’s not your fucking business”

His glare only hardened at my words and my tone, but I held his gaze. I expected anger from him, but he just lingered in the tense silence.

Noticing I had used my bad arm to lean on the bed, a strangled grunt of pain tore my throat and I collapsed back on the bed, breathing heavily from that needless effort.

“Rest” John repeated sternly, covering me with a blanket. “I don’t want to see you up”

With that, he walked away, leaving me with the only company of his pitbull, who sat at the feet of the bed. I suppressed the urge to call out for John and ask him to stay with me, to provide me with his protective company. But I doubted he would even glance back at me if I did. And I… I didn’t want him to stay with me anyway.

I didn’t know how long it had passed or when did I fall asleep –I didn’t even remember going to sleep, I must have been too exhausted –but when I next awoke, it was almost bright outside. The sun was high, illuminating the room through the window.

The house was quiet except for the distant sound of oil splattering and dishes clinging. John must have been in the kitchen, so I decided to go and meet with him despite his wishes.

Hoping he wouldn’t lecture me for it, I sat up. I took my time, taking a few deep breaths, to swing my legs over the bed and stand up. I was instantly received with a head rush, and a barking sound close to me informed me of the dog’s concern for my wellbeing when I dangerously swayed.

“I’m okay, buddy” Still recovering from the dizziness, I blindly moved my hand to pet his head. “I’m fine”

Patiently waiting until I felt stable again, I touched my side and my arm to analyze the evolution of my wounds. I was profoundly relieved to find no blood in my palm. I hadn’t bled through the bandages.

I followed the delicious aroma of eggs and bacon into the kitchen, where John was just finishing serving the breakfast in two plates. He didn’t look at me, but his shoulders tensed ever so slightly at my presence.

“I told you I didn’t want to see you up” He said, still not making eye contact.

“That’s too bad” I sarcastically replied, subtly eyeing the food. “I have no intention on lying down again”

John turned his head to finally look at me and pursed his lips a little. He leaned both hands on the counter, watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite decipher.

“They’re still after you, and now you’re injured” He paused, almost waiting for me to object. “You can just stay here”

“You already paid your debt” Unable to ignore my groaning stomach, I grabbed two pieces of bacon off the plate for later, earning the smallest of smirks to show up on his face. “Besides, I’m no John Wick, but I can handle it”

That said, I wanted nothing more to do with him. I wanted to stay, I really did, but I wouldn’t. I refused his charity, it made me feel like he was reluctant to help me. Like after all we had been through together, he only saw me as pending business.

I had truly believed that sweet John Wick that comforted me that time was still somewhere in there, that he had a tender side no one knew about and that I had been lucky enough to get a peek of. And when he didn’t think twice to help me, basically saving my life, and healing my wounds and letting me rest in the safety of his home… I thought he was allowing that side of him to shine because of our history and our connection. However, it all crumbled when he said ‘I owed you’.

Finding it too painful to meet with his eyes again, I began walking to the front door. Before I could, though, a hand firmly clasped around my good arm, stopping me in my tracks. John was suddenly very close to me, breathing heavily.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Elizabeth” Were his only words, he knew I was too stubborn to stay. “You’re better than that”

He spoke slowly, wanting every word to sink in. The intensity of his glance only backed up their importance.

I showed him a sad smile, thinking back to a conversation we once had. He thought he knew me better than anyone, and maybe that was the problem. Maybe that was what bothered me so much, the possibility that he did, that he saw through me.

“Maybe I’m not” I broke free from his grasp, sending him an intense glance in return.

I walked to the door with determination, feeling his eyes burning holes in my nape. I opened it and turned around to look at him one last time. My chest tightened thinking that I might never see John again, but things were too complicated to stay.

“Don’t worry, John” I said, stepping outside. “If I get hurt, I won’t be bothering you again”

He tilted his head to the side in some sort of warning, but I continued talking when he opened his mouth to reply, interrupting him before he could start speaking.

“We’re even now, aren’t we?” I bitterly smiled at him, waving goodbye.

“Elizabeth…” John clicked his tongue, taking a few steps forward.

I shut the door loudly, already walking away from the house and noticing an emptiness filling my chest.

“Elizabeth!” I heard him calling me, stubborn, from inside the house. But I was already gone.

[pyropsychiccollector]

Fate Zero: Part Four

            Risei Kotomine stood calm and composed as he went to answer the door. Though it wasn’t a very big congregation that he led, the church still received visitors on occasion. He knew that it wasn’t any of his parishioners at the door, however… because it was far too early in the morning.

            Risei took a composed breath before opening the door – unsurprised to see his son on the other side, looking as impassive as ever.

            “We have a problem.” Kirei blandly reported.

            Soon enough, they were in the basement as Kirei passed on Assassin’s recent discovery. The Servant himself was outside the church and patrolling the perimeter, ensuring this meeting was an ironclad secret. Risei appeared more troubled as Kirei went on, and when he’d finished speaking, there was only one solution the elderly man could think of.

            “Caster has just become the very top priority… If he and his Master have no intention of respecting the rules that the Holy Grail War has established for hundreds of years, then we will postpone the war until they are eliminated. Minor rule changes fall under my purview – we’ll have all of the Masters work together to defeat Caster.”

            Kirei raised an eyebrow at the notion of Masters collaborating.

            “Will we really have to go to such lengths? All Assassin need do is get a clear shot, and he can take out Caster… We have yet to discover their main base of operations, but they poke their head out of the rabbit hole often enough that executing them would be a trifling matter…”

            Risei shook his head and fixed his son with a stern glance.

            “You have found and identified Caster, but this specific Servant will be too difficult to handle on your own. Neinhart was once a member of the Spriggan 12, before he attempted a coup and was imprisoned for life. Cobra is formidable, but the Spriggan 12 were personally picked and trained by the Black Wizard, Zeref himself. We cannot assume an attempted assassination will survive first contact. Keep an eye out for him in the meantime, but do not engage until we at least get Tokiomi in on the hunt as well. Hades will be of immense help to you and Cobra.”

            Kirei’s eyes fell as his expression remained blank.

            “… Understood…”

            ~*~

            Dust blew through the air amongst the ruins as a gust of wind passed through. The dark-haired man made clinking noises with his metal boots as he walked past so much rubble, keeping an eye out. The sky, the clouds tinged brown, appeared ghastly and filthy, indicating the kind of battle that had raged in this area very recently; it really wasn’t pleasant to linger here, but the dark-haired man couldn’t just leave. At last, he spotted a solitary living figure amongst the corpses and ruins – hunched over as he sat on a large piece of wall. The other man’s face was obscured by his intertwined hands as he appeared deep in thought, but Gajeel would recognize that shock of pink hair anywhere.

            “Oi, Flamebrain! What’re ya doin’? Let’s go home!” He called out exasperatedly.

            The pink-haired man, wrapped in a tattered gray cloak, his arms covered thoroughly in wrappings, didn’t answer for several moments, but when he did, Gajeel felt incredibly uneasy.

            “Go back, Gajeel. I’m not done.”

            Gajeel’s face scrunched up in confusion and bewilderment.

            “What are you talkin’ about? You annihilated this fortress, Natsu! There’s nobody left!”

            “There are. They just have different bases.” Natsu grunted, his eyes narrowing into a sharp glare as he peeked over his hands at Gajeel. “I’m not done until they’re all dead. Until I wrap my hands around the throats of every last one of those bastards… Until their bones are reduced to ash…!”

            Gajeel’s eyes softened, the longer he stared at Natsu. He couldn’t help feeling anything but pity for his Guildmate. Natsu couldn’t be blamed for turning out like this; no matter how murderous he had become, it was all completely natural. Hell, if Levy had…

            Gajeel shook his head as he couldn’t even finish that nightmarish thought.

            “Natsu. We can’t just let ya run off half-cocked! If I let you go, Gray ‘n Mira are gonna have my head on a pike…!” He growled as Natsu stood up stubbornly, turning his back to the Iron Dragon Slayer. “Just think about what you’re doin’! You can’t stoop to their level! Come back with me!”

            “I’m already worse than them, Gajeel… It’s too late. I’m gonna finish what I started, and I’m gonna protect you all. Don’t follow me.” Natsu coldly bit out.

            Gajeel gnashed his teeth as he took a step towards Natsu’s retreating back.

            “Salamander…!”

            “Tell Happy to stay with Lisanna, and not to come after me.” Natsu droned in an equally cold tone. He spared no more words even as Gajeel continued to call out to him.

            Gajeel would never see him again.

            ~*~

            Waver awoke with a desperate gasp, panting soon after he sat up in bed and covered in sweat. He looked around his darkened bedroom, and found there to be no threats or anything amiss. As he got his breathing under control, he stared down at his blanket-covered legs.

            “Was… Was that a vision?” Waver muttered to himself. In all his research on the Holy Grail War, the topic of visions had never come up… But that had definitely felt so real. It had to have been Gajeel’s memories of when he was alive. “But… how…?”

            The blanket bunched together in Waver’s clenched fists as he tried to think about it logically. The only thing that came to mind… was that their connection as Master and Servant must have allowed him to see a glimpse into Gajeel’s past. But even so, the ‘how’ wasn’t really important… What concerned Waver was the contents of that memory. The Fairy Tail Guild was one of the most legendary organizations of mages in the world, and many of their exploits had been recorded exhaustively. While Waver had only been able to get the bare-bones summary of their history while on the flight to Japan, nothing that was recorded seemed all that… dark.

            But that memory had definitely been real. The wretched sky, the soot-filled air, that carnage and those ruins, and that tense standoff with Berserker… Or rather, Natsu Dragneel, as he’d been known in life. That hadn’t been just any old dream conjured by his imagination. And Gajeel had felt so pained and filled with regret about letting Natsu go like that… Waver didn’t really understand why Gajeel hadn’t gone after him; Rider wasn’t the type to hesitate, but in that one instance he had. And he apparently regretted it for the rest of his life.

            “Where am I gonna find out more about Fairy Tail’s history, though…? It’s not like I can just walk up to Rider and demand he tell me. And I don’t want to waste a Command Seal and get him mad at me…” Waver sighed as he ran a hand through his hair agitatedly before flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with mild frustration. “… Guess I’ll think on it tomorrow.”

            Up on the roof of the Mackenzie household, Gajeel sat cross-legged. A light breeze blew his hair around a little, and the Iron Dragon Slayer’s eyes were fixed on the nightlife scene of Fuyuki. Unconsciously, he clenched his fists tightly.

            ~*~

            Gray leaned back against the wall and sighed raggedly as he crossed his arms, staring up at the ceiling. Despite swearing fealty to Kayneth, the man had more than a few harsh words to say about not slaying Erza on the spot… Not that Gray particularly cared what his Master thought about that “failure”. He was gonna win the Grail for Kayneth – that wasn’t about to change. But no matter how loyal he was to his new Master, he wasn’t so devoid of honor that he’d strike Erza down when she was distracted by Flamebrain of all people…

            The Ice Mage clenched his teeth and clutched his arm tighter as his thoughts drifted there…

            “Natsu…” Gray growled and swore under his breath. Before he could continue that line of thought, a feminine giggle gathered all his attention.

            “Kayneth’s words still echoing in your ears? You should have just let me tear into him. It’s not like he’s above criticism~…” The woman slowly strode up to Gray, hands clasped behind her back. The Ice Mage merely rolled his eyes in annoyance.

            “Criticism and beating a dead horse are two completely different things, Sola-Ui… I wasn’t about to let you humiliate him, too. He got enough of that from Berserker and Rider…” Subconsciously, his grip around his forearm tightened again. Sola-Ui tilted her head curiously.

            “You know he wasn’t exactly right for beating your ‘failure’ like a dead horse? I mean, it’s not like there will never be another chance to defeat Saber. Kayneth’s just obsessed because Sabers tend to be the strongest Servants…” Sola-Ul traced a lazy semicircle around Lancer, a cocky grin tugging at her lips. “It’s too bad in this particular War, Lancer rises above all others, eh?”

            Gray scoffed, arms dropping to his sides as he narrowed his eyes at her.

            “Flattery will get you nowhere. I know my own limits. Every single Servant in this War could take me on… I’m not even gonna rule out Assassin or Caster, who I haven’t seen yet.” He craned his head to the side as his fists stayed clenched at his sides. “If I have my way, three of ‘em are gonna be my responsibility. Counting Erza.”

            Sola-Ui frowned, and her brow furrowed.

            “Three? Not six?”

            “I dunno who Caster and Assassin are yet, like I said. And Gajeel… I wouldn’t care if someone else took him out.” He curled his fists hard enough that even Sola-Ui could hear them. “Hades, though… And Erza and Flamebrain… I have to settle things with them personally. Hades goes without saying. Erza, I would have taken her on personally even without Kayneth’s obsession… And Natsu…”

            Gray trailed off there, unwilling to say another word about Natsu. Sola-Ui’s frown deepened.

            “History says you and Natsu butted heads with every chance you received… Is it just a fire and ice thing?”

            The Ice Mage snorted derisively.

            “If it was something as cliché as that, I wouldn’t even bother making it personal.” He began to walk away from Sola-Ui, despite her protests. “Don’t think about it too much. It’s between me and him. I know exactly why he’s in this thing, and I’m gonna stop him… at any cost…”

            As he shimmered away into his spirit form, Sola-Ui scowled in frustration, leaving their conversation at that. Even in spirit form, Gray felt like rolling his eyes.

            ‘It’s like she’s an unholy combination of Juvia and Ultear… Ugh. I don’t wanna even imagine that.’

            ~*~

            Kiritsugu frowned as he pored over the maps and photos sprawled across the table. He knew that the Grail War was just starting, but there were far too many unknown variables – and that wasn’t even counting the Noble Phantasms, which they hadn’t seen any of, yet.

            “We barely even know where anyone is holed up…” The Magus Killer muttered. “Tokiomi hasn’t left Tohsaka Manor even once. Kayneth has turned a hotel into his personal workshop… Kirei Kotomine, Kariya Matou, and Waver Velvet are constantly on the move… And Caster… he and his Master must have some base of operations, but finding it isn’t going to be easy.”

            Erza sighed breezily as she entered the room, clad in a suit and dress pants combo that Irisveil had picked out for her.

            “Natsu and Rider will come to us when they’re ready. Dragon Slayers have noses like no other.”

            Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes at the small sign of fondness in her tone. He stared up at the redhead sternly.

            “Even if they were your Guildmates in life, we still have to take them down.”

            Erza averted her eyes from Kiritsugu’s, but the Magus Killer could tell she wasn’t having doubts.

            “You don’t need to remind me… I am well aware of the nature of this war.” She looked back into his eyes with just as much steel behind them. “It is you who seems to need reminding about your role… As my Master, you should not go around behind my back to assassinate enemy Masters. By doing so, you’re not only endangering your own life, but also dishonoring me and the other Servants who are fighting this war for your sake as well as theirs.”

            Kiritsugu rolled his eyes and snorted at the mere notion of ‘honor’.

            “Honor? There’s nothing more facetious in this world. You’re not going to win a war with petty ideals like ‘honor’. Victory comes to those who will do everything in their power to claim it… You can’t afford to hesitate even for a second, because that one second is all the time the enemy will need to cut you down for their own selfish gains. Wars aren’t won on platitudes.”

            Erza’s nostrils flared as she glared Kiritsugu down.

            “I know how wars are fought…! And I have won my fair share without compromising my ideals!”

            Kiritsugu placed a hand on his hip casually, not growing annoyed by Erza’s tone in the least.

            “Perhaps you did… But did all your Guildmates, I wonder?” He arched his eyebrow critically as her eyes widened, shocked he’d bring them up. “Maybe before the war with Tartaros, your Guild was a collection of saints, never killing their opponents. But like it or not, you all wiped out the Guild of Tartaros, and your very own rival, Mirajane Strauss, harvested their souls to fuel her own power. Lancer, Gray Fullbuster, became a Demon Slayer after inheriting his father’s will. Furthermore, in your war with Alvarez, Laxus Dreyar and Rider killed two Spriggan Shields. And let’s not forget the fearsome Acnologia… all of your beloved Dragon Slayers annihilated him.”

            Kiritsugu took his hand off his hip and deepened his frown.

            “That doesn’t even cover all the legends that came after Alvarez… Especially after your death. Though… frankly, it’s probably for the best that you don’t seem to have that knowledge. You might look at some of your fellow ‘Heroic Spirits’ very differently if you did.”

            Erza’s hands curled into fists. The more Kiritsugu lectured her, the more she found herself absolutely seething.

            “You speak as one from the present day, who never knew the tribulations we had to go through… The hardships, the heartache… I don’t claim that we were perfect. But we never abandoned our loyalty. Our bond. We were all that we had. And that bond… prevented us from succumbing to the darkness, even in our own hearts.”

            Kiritsugu took out a lighter from his pocket and lit up a cigarette. He puffed smoke calmly, much to Erza’s irritation.

            “… And what do you suppose happened when you lose ‘all that you had’? I think the two you were closest to in life can answer that… And luckily for you, they’re both participating in this war so you can ask them yourself.” Kiritsugu stared at Erza out of the corner of his eye as he began to move past her. “Put away your pride. If you want to show your friends mercy, win this war for them. I guarantee your own desire, your own wish… will be far kinder than theirs.”

            Having spoken his peace, Kiritsugu strolled out of the room, leaving the scarlet knight with much to think about.  

            ~*~

            Aoi was startled when the doorbell rang. Rin wasn’t due back from school for a few hours yet, and hardly anyone stopped by in the middle of the day like this. When she opened the front door, she half-expected Tokiomi or some messenger of his… But what she saw was even more shocking than that.

            “Sakura…?!” Aoi gasped, hands flying to her mouth impulsively. She appeared a bit malnourished… But that was definitely Sakura, standing there politely and offering a pleasant beam.

            “Mom…!” She couldn’t help releasing a small laugh as she threw her arms out as she tackled Aoi with an affectionate hug.

            Aoi didn’t even have to think twice. She held her formerly estranged daughter tightly and cried. Even if she knew it couldn’t last… Even if this was some cruel trick by the Matou Clan Head, Aoi would treasure this moment forever. Because she never thought she’d be allowed to hold Sakura in her arms ever again.

            It felt like an eternity before she registered the second figure standing at the front door. He’d previously let Sakura have this tender moment with her mother before he couldn’t help himself and step into view to get a good look at the reunion. A warm smile tugged at his lips.

            “Sakura really missed you, Aoi… I would’ve been a monster to keep her from you.”

            “Kariya…” Aoi whispered hoarsely, wiping at her tear-filled eyes confusedly. And despite how happy she felt in this moment, she couldn’t help but ask the question that plagued her mind. “Why have you brought Sakura here…? You know… what we did…”

            Despite how sad Aoi sounded, Sakura looked up at her mother calmly and without a hint of anger.

            “Mother… It’s okay! You and father… only wanted the best for me…” Sakura couldn’t help smiling bittersweetly. “It was really scary living with the Matou’s, but Uncle Kariya and Mister Natsu saved me! And Uncle Kariya says we’ll be able to live together as a family again!”

            Aoi looked awestruck as she processed her daughter’s words. She stared up at Kariya in disbelief, and he offered a hearty grin in return.

            “It’s true. Sakura’s free, Aoi. I… I joined the Holy Grail War because Zouken had promised me that if I returned victorious with the Grail, he would free Sakura! But my Servant, Natsu… he annihilated Zouken. He purged my and Sakura’s bodies of that old vampire’s worms, and he secured Sakura’s future! She will never again be violated by the Matou’s twisted Magic… If she still wants to become a Mage, I won’t stop her. But she won’t have to do a single thing for the Matou’s!”

            As Kariya’s words sank in, Aoi’s eyes softened, and she gently smiled, reinforcing her hug with Sakura.

            “Kariya… thank you.” She whispered softly. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you…”

            Kariya shook his head, a slightly amused grin tugging at his lips.

            “Just take care of Sakura, at least until this War is over. If Tokiomi still insists on sending her away… I’ll take her so that she won’t have to go through any more horrors with different Mage families. And then… we can play in that park, like we used to… in better days…”

            Aoi’s eyes fell to Sakura as she petted the top of Sakura’s head.

            “Kariya… I’d… I’d like that…” Aoi hesitated in showing her agreement. She looked up at him again, but this time with concern. “You’re still going to participate in that War?”

            Kariya’s eyes fell as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets.

            “… I have to.”

            Aoi hugged Sakura tighter as she looked up at Kariya with some distress in her eyes.

            “Kariya, you’ve saved Sakura! You don’t need to risk your life anymore…!”

            Surprisingly, it wasn’t Kariya that spoke, but Sakura.

            “Mister Natsu’s hurting…” Sakura didn’t pause even as Aoi leaned back to look her in the eyes. “Uncle Kariya promised he’d help Mister Natsu so that the pain would go away…”

            Kariya made a small, bitter snort of amusement.

            “It’s my fault for listening to Zouken… I brought Natsu into this world under a madness enchantment. I can’t just send him back after all he’s done for us. He deserves peace, too.”

            “Kariya…” Aoi whispered softly.

            The pale-haired young man gave a reassuring grin.

            “I promise. Once I’ve helped Natsu win the Grail, I’ll be back! And I’ll even make sure Tokiomi makes it home, too! I’ll do it for you, Aoi. And for Sakura and Rin.” Kariya turned on his heel and stepped away from the front door, throwing his hood up over his head again. He waved his hand lazily as he departed.

            Aoi and Sakura both watched his retreating back, feeling anxious about Kariya’s decision. Sakura seemed to want to go with him, but Aoi kept her close. The least she could do was be the mother she was supposed to be for Sakura.

            … But that didn’t make her feel any better, just letting Kariya go like that. He was doing so much for them… and all she could do was watch him march off to war. If he did make it back, as he promised… she would let him adopt Sakura.

            It was the least she could do for her longtime friend.