#heartrender reader

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part two

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapter: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really.Just that they are older teens.

-♡ I will be imagining Charlie Bushnell as Luke.

-♡warning : short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking. slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting. platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

This was the best moment of your life. The camp was beautiful. You got to see real people training together, not just the ones that come into the infirmary. And Percy was just as amazed as you. It was cool to see someone your own age being new to camp, and that you could use him to get yourself out of that damn house.

Percy made you smile with his small jokes and comments about the place. Which caused Chiron to look between you two without you knowing. You never looked so happy.

“There is a place for you,” chiron points to one of the cabins. A flag hanging from the roof was Hermes and you smile, they welcomed everyone. Many kids ended up in the infirmary after their pranks and you loved to hear the stories.

Percy was to go into the cabin and start his new life while you had to watch and then go back. Of course you were happy for him to have a place. But it would go back to being alone.

“What about y/n?” Percy turned to you with a brow raised. “Don’t you have a cabin?” Before you could answer, the centaur answered for you.

“She is not a Demigod,” he moved his hooves closer and puts a hand on your shoulder. You sigh and nod, “she stays with us. Now say your goodbyes.”

Pushing everything you felt back you mange to give the boy a big smile, “good luck Percy.” And his name in your mouth lift him smitten along with your smile.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why you were here to just stay in the big house. This was a camp for half-bloods and you weren’t one…he wasn’t sure what you were. So why keep you locked up?

“I think y/n should see the inside.” He turn his gaze to the larger man. You could see the mischief on his face.

“I mean, you said you’d give them a tour and haven’t showed them what the insides look like? I think you should keep to your word.”

You cover your mouth with a giggle and he finds himself taking another glance at you with growing pride. However Chiron wasn’t as happy about this because he wanted to get you home and away from everyone…just like the oracle said to.

“I agree, now if you’ll excuse us.” You turn your head and grab ahold of Percy’s hand and start to walk to the cabin door. You had a mission to see everything that you could!

Percy turned brighter by each second and followed you with a clouded head. He stares at the way your hand felt on his. Maybe he could find a way to keep you with him at all time. His chest filled with butterflies and he couldn’t help but to squeeze your hand back as you pull him along.

The cabin was full of campers and bunks crowded around everywhere. You didn’t know what you were expecting but this wasn’t it. I mean the cabin should have been much bigger with the amount of kids that came in, even Hermes had many kids. Just for a second you felt out of place until your eyes set upon another…ones you have looked into before.

Eyes that looked at you many times, the only boy you had a conversation with before. With a scar running across his cheek.

“Well, aren’t we lucky.” The boy stepped closer to you both. His lips curled into a smirk as everyone else the cabin turn to look at you both. The mystery girl and the new boy who took down a minotaur. A odd pair to be seen together.

Percy tightened his hold on your hand at the way he was looking into your eyes and inching closer. Who was this guy? If only he could throw his arm around you to show he already had his claim.

“Luke Castellan.” The slightly taller boy introduced himself. His eyes looked away from you and he was met with percy harsh gaze. The only one now to stop the contest they seemed to have was Chiron who walked behind you.

Camp seemed to get more interesting by the second.

Taglist: @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @alliriseabove

[writerslittlelibrary]

"What, are you?"

masterlist ao3 version

summary: when your abilities show themselves during a viscous Drüskelle attack, General Kirigan has you immediately transferred to the Little Palace for protection

pairing: Aleksander Kirigan x sun summoner reader

warnings: canon level violence, mention of blood

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2683

a/n: I watched the show Shadow & Bone a few years age, and I was absolutely obsessed. recently I picked up the books, and I cannot express how upset I am that they’ve cancelled the series. It literally had so much potential :(

also, I apologise for literally falling off of the face of the earth these past two months. I was depressed at first, and when I felt a little better me and my mom went on a two week vacation to Ireland, and this week I was at a figure skating camp, so I didn’t really get to writing lol. anyhow, I’m feeling better, and I am planning on writing more fics and hopefully do a flufftober week or something :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |—————————— ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ——————————|

The war in Ravka had been raging on for as long as you could remember. It had taken your parent’s lives, and very likely their parent’s lives as well. Now it was your turn to take your place in the army and fight in the war. 

You had never possessed much physical strength. Ever since you were a child, you were weak and fragile. It had pushed the caretakers at the orphanage to give you other tasks. 

They wanted you to posses as many skills as possible, to ensure you would have a future, even if you wouldn’t be able to fight in the war. As you got older, you seemed to develop a true talent in drawing. Your drawings were detailed and realistic, and so the caretakers pressed to ensure you would continue developing that talent. 

When you became of age, you were send to join the first army as a mapmaker. 

Currently you were stationed at a camp just next to the fold. There were several skiffs being readied to enter the fold, but after running a little detour, you found out you were not scheduled to go on any of them. 

At the moment, you were sitting with a Squaller. You had met her years ago, when both of you were just little girls. A boy had been bullying you, and she had thrown him across the field. Ever since, you had been friends. When she would return to the Little Palace, you would write to her, and when you were stationed at an encampment, she would request to be sent to the same place.

As you were laughing at something Zoya had said, you heard yelling coming from a few tents away from you. You figured it was just another soldier fight, but Zoya knew better as she stood, pulling you up with her when she seemingly spotted something that frightened her.

She pushed you behind her, grabbing your hand and she made a run to the edge of the encampment, towards the forest.

You could hear shouting behind you, and the noises of a fight reached your ears. This was not a friendly soldier fight. Too many people had been involved for that. Before you could reach the forest, you could feel two arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you away from Zoya. 

She screamed, reaching out for you before someone took her out from behind. 

The language the man spoke was foreign, and it didn’t take you long to realise they were Fjerdans. They must’ve dressed up as soldiers so they could infiltrate the tents and eliminate the Grisha. 

You fought against the man holding you down, kicking him in the stomach and managing to punch him in the face. 

He struggled, falling backwards. You didn’t hesitate to run away from him, spotting Zoya on the ground, the Drüskelle on top of her. He had a knife in his hand, undoubtedly planning on slicing Zoya’s throat. 

You ran over quickly, jumping on the man’s back in order to get him off of her. Zoya struggled for a bit, surprised by your return before regaining her composure, raising her arms to blast the man backwards. She made her way over to you, grabbing you hand once more before she was pierced by an arrow. A Drüskelle stood behind her, a few feet away, holding a bow. 

Zoya fell to the ground, and the Fjerdan you had managed to push to the ground was now behind you again, restraining you as the other one walked over to Zoya.

He grabbed her hair, pulling her to her knees, with her head pulled backwards. He mumbled a few words in Fjerdan, something about salvation of the witches before he pressed his knife to her throat. 

You screamed, fighting against the Drüskelle holding you as they prepared to slit Zoya’s throat. 

The moment the Drüskelle drew blood, you screamed. An anger releasing inside you that you didn’t know you were holding. Your view went black, a bright light shining through the blackness before you felt your body giving out. You could faintly hear screaming, and you could make out Zoya’s voice as she held you head in her lap. 

After that, everything went black. 

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

When your vision returned, you could make out you were in a tent. You saw Zoya’s face first, looking concerned as she wiped a wet cloth over your forehead. It appeared you were burning up, yet the cool cloth felt as though it had burned you.

You groaned, moving away from her touch and shielding your eyes. The light was too bright, even though the tent was fairly dark. 

“She’s awake,” you heard Zoya say to another person in the room, who hummed thoughtfully before dismissing her.

“Thank you, Zoya. You may leave,” you heard a male voice command. 

You saw Zoya shaking her head, holding one hand on your arm as her head was turned to the other presence. 

“Please, General. She’s confused and scared as is. Allow me stay, please,” Zoya said, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard her use the word ‘please’, let alone use it multiple times in the same sentence.

“Very well,” the male voice commanded, and you could hear large footsteps cross the tent towards where you were lying down.

You groaned, grabbing onto Zoya as you pulled yourself into a sitting position, noticing you were indeed in the tent of the Black General. You breath caught in your throat at the sight of him, and your eyes fell to two Heartrenders standing guard at the entrance of the tent.

“You’ve made quite the show, miss…?” the General trailed off, looking at you expectedly. 

“y/l/n, y/n y/l/n,” you said quietly, turning your gaze to fall on Zoya, who had moved to sit next to you on the cot you were previously laying on. 

Your head felt heavy, and your hands felt clammy. 

“Miss y/l/n, tell me, what are you?” the General asked, leaning against a desk placed in the tent. 

You looked at him confused, thinking about what he could possibly mean. 

“A mapmaker, sir,” you told him, turning to look at Zoya. You couldn’t read her expression, so you turned back to the General, who looked slightly offended. 

“Don’t fool me,” he started. “What are you,” he stated firmly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you admitted honestly, not wanting to upset him.

He looked at you for a moment, determining whether you were lying before speaking again.

“Were you tested as a child?” he asked, to which you nodded. 

“What was the result?” 

“I wasn’t Grisha,” you said, a hint of pain in your voice. You had always wanted to be Grisha. To be in a place where you belong, amongst people who were like you. Instead, you were just normal, with no place where you belonged.

“Your little display of power this morning suggests otherwise, miss y/l/n,” the General spoke.

You looked at him confused. 

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you told him honestly.

“You singhandly managed to scare all of the Drüskelle away, yet you claim to have no knowledge of what you were doing?” 

“I’m sorry, sir, I truly don’t,” you replied, flinching slightly when the General pushed himself off the desk, closing the distance between you. 

“Hold out your arm,” he stated. 

You did as he said, extending your arm towards him while pulling up your sleeve, knowing what he wanted. 

“You say you were tested as a child?” the General asked in confirmation, noting the way you nodded, almost disappointed. “Were you injured during the testing?” he asked you, seeing your face contort in confusion. 

“I don’t recall… does that matter?” you asked, looking up at him as he stood before you. 

“It is the whole point of the test,” he said, taking ahold of your arm and bringing his sharp ring towards it. Gently, he pressed the talon in your arm, and you gasped at the slight sting before a warm beam of light shot from your arm.

You eyes widened, and the moment he let your arm fall back you grasped it, looking at the cut in disbelief. 

“You are very much Grisha, miss y/l/n,” the General said, motioning towards the Heartrenders at the entrance of the tent. 

You couldn’t find any words, turning to Zoya who just looked as bewildered as you. 

“I’m Grisha…” you whispered quietly, looking at Zoya. 

Before she could say anything, the General had returned to your side, gently grasping your upper arm and pulling you up. 

“We’ll have to work quickly. The Drüskelle are already on alert after the attack, and word of your discovery will spread fast,” the General said, handing you a red Kefta, urging you to put it on. “You’ll travel in my coach,” he spoke, before handing you to the two Heartrenders. 

You looked towards Zoya, who stood and asked the General if she could accompany you. 

He shook his head, insisting that she was still needed at the camp. 

Before you knew it, you were being dragged outside and towards the Darkling’s coach. Two Oprichniki stand at the doors, opening them upon seeing your arrival. You didn’t resist, taking the hand one of the Oprichniki offered to help you step inside. 

Once you settled into the coach, the two Heartrenders followed, sitting across from you. The doors were closed, and the two Oprichniki moved to the front, no doubt riding on horses beside the coach. 

You were silent for the first part of the journey, admiring the detailed embroidery on the red Kefta adorning your body. 

“It’s bulletproof,” said the man across from you suddenly. You looked up, meeting his kind smile and realising they had been watching you. “It is why the General wanted you to wear it,” he finished.

You nodded, allowing your hand to fall to your lap. 

“I’m Feydor, and this is Ivan,” the Heartrender introduced himself, motioning towards his partner beside him. He carried a stern look on his face, turning to look outside instead. 

You nodded in reply, turning to look outside in thought. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, turning back to Feydor. He smiled.

“The Little Palace, of course,” he said. 

You nodded once more, settling your gaze outside again. “Why the hurry?” 

“By now, every Drüskelle and Shu assassin will have heard what happened at the camp. What you did. We need to make sure you are behind safe walls when they come for you,” Feydor explained, and you nodded once more.

“I don’t even know what I did,” you then said, earning the look of both Feydor and Ivan. 

“You saved us,” Feydor started. “Your light killed two Drüskelle, and scared the rest away. The disguised themselves as First army to kill Grisha. Without you, they would have succeeded.” 

You looked at him surprised, not expecting that reply to come from his mouth. You could not remember a single thing that happened at the camp, let alone the Drüskelle attack. 

After the conversation died down, you turned to look outside once more. You felt your eyes drooping, exhausting settling into your bones as the world outside passed you in a blur.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped, and an Oprichniki opened the coach door. 

“There’s a fallen tree on the road, we’re moving it now,” he stated, closing the door again. Ivan looked uneasy, glancing out the little window. Feydor did the same, studying the other window until there was shouting. 

Immediately, Ivan and Feydor got up, both heading out the doors.

“Stay here, get down, and don’t move,” Feydor said, pushing a blade of Grisha steel into your hands before abandoning the coach. 

You did as he said, crouching down onto the floor of the coach, pressing your knees against your chest. You could hear screaming outside and multiple guns firing. When it stilled for a moment, you thought it was over, until the glass of the coach broke and a smoke bomb was thrown inside.

You coughed, pushing the door of the coach open and stumbling outside, falling to your knees as you tried to catch your breath. 

You heaved, clutching the Girsha steel knife in your hand when you looked up, barely registering the boots of a figure marching towards you, grabbing your hair and dragging you away. 

You fought, struggling against his hold as he pressed his knife to your throat, pressing harshly. You felt a trickle of blood stream down you neck, and you grabbed the knife in you hand as tightly as you could before stabbing it backwards, hitting the person in the stomach. 

His hold on you faltered enough for you to push him away, running away from him, into the forest. 

You ran for as long as your feet could take you, registering the fighting still happening behind you. When you stopped for only a second to catch your breath, you were tackled to the ground, a figure laying on top of you.

His held his knife high above his head, muttering a prayer of kinds before preparing to bring it down.

You could faintly hear a horse in the background, and you closed your eyes tightly, figuring this was it. You heard a yell, but you didn’t feel the sharp pain of a knife digging into your skin. Instead, when you opened your eyes. You could see the man on top of you, slowly falling in two. 

You turn your head, seeing the Darkling standing there beside a group of other Oprichniki. You realised he had cut the man on top of you in half. 

When he fell, you pushed him off of you, moving away from the body, and catching your breath. 

The General walked over to you, extending his arm, which you gratefully took as he helped you up. He studied the cut on your throat.

“Are you alright?” he questioned. 

You nodded, moving your hand to rub the sore spot on your throat. 

“You’ll ride with me,” he stated, walking over to his horse, leaving no room for argument. 

You followed him, standing beside him as he mounted his horse, extending his hand to help pull you up. You allowed him, settling in the saddle as he took off in a gallop. 

He held onto you firmly, ensuring you wouldn’t fall at the movement of the horse. 

With you were riding multiple Oprichniki guards, and you spotted Ivan and Feydor both riding on a horse themselves. They must’ve won the fight in the woods. 

After riding for nearly half a day, the group stopped at an abandoned barn. The Oprichniki secured it, while the General dismounted the horse, extending his arm to help you off as well. When the Oprichniki secured the barn, the group moved inside. 

The horses were giving water and something to eat, while a small group of Oprichniki went outside to hunt for dinner. 

You settled on the ground, close by the fire that Ivan had made. Once the sun had set, the temperature had dropped significantly, and you could say with certainty you were freezing.

You pulled the dirty Kefta around you a little tighter, hoping to conserve some warmth. The General seated himself beside you, reaching out a gentle hand to touch the cut on your neck. You winced slightly at the sting, and General Kirigan retreated his hand to retrieve a small, black cloth from his pocket. 

Gently, he wiped the blood away from you neck and face, making sure to avoid pressing to harshly. 

Once he retreated his hand, you gave him a small smile. 

“Thank you,” you said in a quiet voice, and he nodded. 

“Once you’re in the palace you’ll be able to clean up properly. The cut isn’t too deep, but in your weakened state it is enough to stir some worry,” he explained, tucking the small cloth back into his pocket. 

You nodded once again, moving to lay down, using you arm to support your head. The palace. That is where you were headed, after all…

this fic has been continued on ao3, link

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[gorgeousgust]

I HAVE NO HEART. (NI WEH SESH) -K.B

Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x heartrender!reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful people! This fiction is based off clearly the season two, episode six from the Shadow & Bone series. There are some exact quotes from the episode because for the plot of the storyline. As a reminder, I don’t own Y/N and other characters and all rights go to beautiful Leigh Bardugo… I just love the write fanfics! Anyways, this is the only way I would write touching scenes with Kaz. And I loved watching that episode, it was amazing. The way the actors played very well… And I thought why wouldn’t Y/N be in it? Hope you enjoy it! Have a nice reading!

Word Count: 4.540

Warnings: Violence, poison, and no hates to Zoya, I love her but in the story, it is a bit different.

“There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry. As all of you looked at the ceiling, you saw a red powder spreading across the room. “This is how we die?” Jesper exclaimed anxiously.

Suddenly a strong cough filled your throat. Your lungs were filling with the poisonous powder, when you turned your head to your side, you saw Jesper as he blacked out and collapsed into the floor. As you backed away, still coughing like the others, you leaned on the ground and put your hands on your heart.

As Tolya and you shared a glance, both of you were stabilizing your heartbeats. You glanced to Inej as she passed out and a loud thump came out from Kaz, as you looked at him he fell on the floor harshly. You feared that this moment might be all of your death.

-

The Slat was quiet unusually. You scoot over from Nina’s side and sit down on the high chair. You were eating some breakfast, as you felt growling inside your empty stomach.

While you were eating, two person came inside to the Slat. As you looked at them, the man had a strong physique and wore off-shoulder leather coat. He looked mighty. As you turned to the girl he was with, she looked oddly familiar. Had dark brown eyes match with her dark brown hairs. Her expressions were cold and still. While the guy looked rather cheerful. He was a Shu also. Then as you examined the girl further you realized it was Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky.

As they beelined to the Kaz’s office, you exchanged a look with Nina. “Why is Zoya doing in here?” She asked confused. “I have no idea.” You looked confused too, but you waited patiently for Kaz to come to the table you and Nina sat.

After several minutes, Kaz walked downstairs following with Zoya and that Shu guy. As they walked to the table you two were sitting, Kaz informed briefly why they were here. The Shu man, introduced himself as you learned his name was Tolya, he explained further about why they wanted your assistance on this plan.

As you listened patiently, Nina spat in disbelief. “The Neshyenyer? Sankta Neyar's blade?” Zoya looked at her reproachful. “So, you haven't forgotten what you were taught at the Little Palace.” She said teasingly. “Just your loyalty to Ravka.“ She turned to her glances to you too while she was talking with Nina.

You haven’t bothered to answer her as Nina jumped in. “Ravka? Or Kirigan? It didn't take him destroying a city for me to question my loyalty.“ She said a little louder.

As Jesper intervened to ask the payment, Tolya answered and Zoya explained further for Nina’s questions.

After Kaz finished the conversation with an agreement, you looked at Kaz briefly then turned your attention back to Zoya while she eyed you with a straight expression.

That was it, a new business, going to help the sun summoner to destroying the fold, in return got a paycheck of thousands of kruges. You went to your own room and packed a small bag for your tools. As Kaz secured your passports, you went to meet them outside the Slat.

It was going to be an extremely dangerous quest. A difficult one, you were feeling it.

Before all of this happened, you were a heartrender, learning to control your abilities and studying small science in Little Palace. As soon as you were studying and under commands of General Kirigan, you realized that this place is degenerated.

You were friends with Nina, back then. As you two were both heartrenders, she was like a big sister for you. She supported you through everything you dealt about the Little Palace.

One day, you decided to tell her your plans. You were going to escape the Palace, you relied on Nina so much that you were so sure about that she wasn’t going to turn you in, as you went to her, you realized she was also making her escape plan too.

You two escaped the palace but unfortunately you grew apart as you found yourself in Ketterdam your dock sailed in. As that time, you and Kaz’s paths crossed. He found who you were and what was your abilities, then he offered you a salaried position. Because you were useful. Also, you needed money so you agreed his offer and worked for him.

After everything happened and your way’s crossed again with Nina, you were more than happy to see a friend.

As all of you finally docked in Shu Han, you looked at the crowd. The place looked beautiful. The crowd wore nice and unique clothes, the bazaar looked lively and relaxed, you turned to your head to Tolya as he lowered onto his knees, there was a thin candle in his hand as he looked at the statue decored with flowers and fruits. He was speaking in Shu language as you watched him.

You were standing next to Kaz and Wylan. Watching the scene as Inej lowered to her knees next to him, praying to herself. While Zoya and Nina did the same. As they began to speak to each other, you gazed through the colored fibers. It was too noise-full and the crowd looked messy.

Then Tolya got up and walked to where you all stood. There were flutes playing through. “Just so you know, it's bad luck not to honor the dead during Suntsa Sar.” He said it as he was eating walnuts and turned his gaze to the statue. Kaz side eyed the man as he was standing and looked pissed. Jesper scoffed and looked at Tolya.

“If I believed in luck, I'd be in less debt.“ Jesper said and you turned your gaze to Tolya. Kaz turned his face to his side and looked at Tolya coldy. He then said, “And I’m more concerned with the living.” You smirked to yourself hearing Kaz’s words. Always has a remark, you thought to yourself.

After Kaz said the tea shop should be open by now, he reviewed the plan one more time. Inside of your mind, deeply, you wanted to take Nina’s role. Pretending to be Kaz’s wife, for a brief selfish moment you wanted to feel it.

He wasn’t sentimental, how could he? If you are living in the Barrel you can’t have those ‘weak sentiments’ Kaz said always. It was a cruel joke to you, because you loved that man.

Over the time as your acquaintanceship bloomed into a friendship, you caught feelings for the very man who deprived himself from it. Despite he was denying the little feelings he has, you heard his heart.

After you two become friends, it wasn’t confirmed by him but it was there, you understood it, you subconsciously let yourself hear his heartbeat. It was impossible to not hear it. Whenever you met his dark eyes, you felt the heartbeats of his paced faster.

Or whenever he was in his office, writing things on papers or reading some books and planning heists, listening his heartbeat calmed your heart too.

But there were ups and downs. Whenever someone mentioned Pekka Rollins’s name or the nightmares he was having, you were the only one who knew about it, you heard his heartbeat got extremely fast which was worried you so much.

You wanted to help him, at those moments when you were near to him, those anxious feelings eased after seconds. He knew it was your doing. He never confronted you about it but sometimes it really did help him. You two never talked about any of this but Kaz was in fact, grateful.

They say the eyes are the mirror of the heart, maybe Kaz hid his true views by training himself but his heart was never hiding himself to you.

But most of the time, he hated it. How you can able to hear his heartbeat, his pulse, it was giving him away to you, he wanted to keep the disguise. Because disguise is always a self portrait.

Nina was pretending to be his wife, Inej was on the roofs for following Ohval and you were left to stuck with Zoya.

-

After what happened in that tea shop, all of you sat into a place and talked about what happened. Kaz explained about how Ohval was the Disciple and Nina said how she was able to control her own heartbeat. Kaz explained further.

Then Kaz began to explain the plan. He glanced at Nina briefly. “While she's out of the house, Nina will tail her to make sure she stays out of the house.“ Then she looked at you for a moment. “The rest of us will grab the blade. “ He said.

Zoya intervened in quickly and looked at Kaz with an annoyed expression. “You don't seriously expect me to break into this woman's house.“ Jesper looked at her unbelievably then he joined the conversation. Uh, why do you think we're here?“ He said it confusedly.

Zoya looked at Jesper, “I'm a soldier, not a thief. Why else would I need you criminals?” She said it with an arrogance in her face visible.

You looked at her as you rolled your eyes. “Well, sorry to disappoint you Zoya but there is not much of a difference between them than you think.” You looked at her with coldness as Nina chuckled to ease the tension. “Says the girl who ran away from her country.” Zoya said as you were about to reply back to her, Zoya turned to Kaz. “I’ll go with Nina.”

Nina coughed while she was eating some walnuts. “Are you sure you don’t need me?” She said to Kaz. “I mean, Zoya can tail Ohval.” You watched Nina as you grinned. Kaz was done with the silly arguments you two had with Zoya. “Nina and Zoya will wait for Ohval at the apothecary. Follow her. If she starts heading home, buy us some time. Distract her.” With that Kaz put an end into that conversation, again.

-

Now it was the time for the plan. You and the others walked to the outside of Ohval’s house. The building looked very much traditional, as you were thinking like that, Tolya voiced your thought. You looked briefly at Kaz. You were wondering what he was thinking.

As Jesper approached to Wylan’s side, you heard a faint heartbeat. Tolya must’ve heard it too, he and you shared a glance. He said there was a faint heartbeat and you agreed.

When the doors opened you, Kaz, Inej, Tolya and Jesper entered inside whilst Wylan was standing outside for all of you. As you heard a click sound, you turned to your back and look at the door.

Inej and Tolya both tried to open the door with their hands after it was no use, they kicked the door and it was useless. You heard a groan from them. Then as Inej tried to stabbed the wallpaper but it was no use, it was impenetrable and then you looked at Kaz. “Kaz what do we do?” You whispered to him.

Kaz, as he clanged his cane into the door he looked at you then Jesper. “The frames are made of metal.” As he said it Jesper looked relieved for a moment. “They are Durast made.”

As you heard another click sound, “There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry.

-

You tried, you tried too hard to stay awake. You were yelling Wylan’s name but it was no use, it felt like your voice sounded mere whisper. You looked at Tolya which he tried to also yell for Wylan.

Then as you turned your glance towards Kaz and saw him laying there unconsciously, your vision got blurred and the next thing you felt the dizziness and the pain in your head.

You found yourself back in the Crow Club. You looked around… it was empty. There were no heartbeats you could feel. A slight worry took you over as you hurriedly walked to Kaz’s office.

You opened it without knocking. When you entered the inside of his office, there was only a dim light, lightening his desk.

“Hello, Y/N.” You heard Kaz’s crooked voice. How could that be possible? You haven’t heard his heartbeat and you still couldn’t. “Kaz?” You looked at him as your eyebrows furrowed. He was wearing a white shirt, very unusual for him.. He would only wear black outfits. He looked too angelic to be true, as you drank his appearance.

His faint skin looked brighter as he wore white shirt, his hair disheveled and his gloves… As he approached to your side, he was slowly getting rid of his gloves. “What are you doing?” You whispered worriedly. You knew he had an aversion to touch and you felt anxious as he was taking his gloves off.

“Can I?” He was asking for your consent to touch you, as his hand raised to side of your cheek, you didn’t understand what was happening but before your mind could protest, the feelings inside of you thought different. “Yes.” You found yourself saying.

Kaz’s hand slowly caressed your cheek and you closed your eyes for a brief moment. It was so strange yet so familiar to you, feeling his touch, it was a feeling that you wanted to bottle and drink away.

Then you opened your eyes and looked at him. His gaze never left yours as you looked at him. “I… want you, Y/N.” As your bodies pressed together, you looked at him with tears forming in your eyes.

“Kaz…” You whispered softly. “I, I-“ You felt shattered as his nose touched with yours. You closed your eyes and felt your lips be touched by his. It blossomed flowers inside your chest as you felt the foreign feeling. It was new but something happened through the haze of love, you coughed.

You looked at him as your eyebrows crossed in a confused glance. “You are not Kaz.” You said as you looked at your environment. This place wasn’t his office anymore, suddenly you found yourself in Little Palace, in Kirigan’s room. “How’s my little heartrender doing?” Kirigan said it smoothly as he looked at you devilishly. “What is happening?” You sounded afraid.

He then approached to your side. “Did you miss me, Y/N?” He smirked. Then he grabbed your hand. “Let go of me!” You resisted but it was no use, he was strong and you became that girl. That little girl who was yanked away from their family and trapped in Kirigan’s arms. “You cannot escape from me, Y/N, you know it.”

You tried to yank your hand away from him. To use your heartrender abilities to get him down but it was no use. “Maybe, you want this huh?” He looked at you as feelings of betrayal crossed his eyes. Then he let go of you and pulled his hand in the air as Kaz appeared in the door. “I’m going to destroy him!” Kirigan said.

“No!” You yelled as the time you put your hands up and waved it in the air, Kirigan’s shadow cut already killed Kaz, you were late.

“Y/N!”

You heard a voice.

“Y/N! Come on, wake up!”

-

Inej was the first one to wake up from the nightmare of the poison, she could able to reach Wylan and as Wylan could explode a small hole in the wall, he gave Inej butterflies.

Inej, as she ate the butterfly as Wylan said it, she felt disgusted. Nearly she was going to throw up however after a few seconds, she felt better. “Wylan..” She whimpered. “We need four more.” She said it in pain.

Inej put the butterfly in Tolya’s mouth as she forcefully made him chew the butterfly. As Tolya woke up with a disgusting taste in his mouth, Inej went to Wylan’s side and took one more butterfly from him.

Then she gave it to Tolya. “Tolya, Jesper. Put it in his mouth.” As Inej said it, she went away and took one more butterfly from Wylan’s hand.

She hurriedly scoot over the Y/N’s side and opened her mouth with her hand. “Come on, Y/N, eat.” As she forcefully tried to made her eat the butterfly, “Y/N, Come on, wake up!” Inej yelled and tears formed in her eyes, after several seconds, you woke up and met Inej’s face. “Inej?” You looked at her confused and you turned your gaze to the room.

You weren’t there inside the Little Palace, it was the poison. Then Inej got up from your side and took the last butterfly and approached to the Kaz’s side, as your eyes followed Inej, she forcefully tried to put the butterfly into Kaz’s mouth, but it was no use.

Something was keeping him from there and he was too tense to eat the butterfly. You looked at Kaz as tears brimmed in your eyes, you closed your eyes for a second as you remembered the cut, you opened and rushed to Inej. “Let me try,” You said desperately.

When Inej gave you the butterfly, you looked at Kaz’s closed eyes. “Don’t leave me, please.” You whispered to yourself. You opened Kaz’s mouth and tried to make him eat the butterfly, it was hard and he was struggling to eat it. “Kaz, Come on!” Your voice was dangerously loud as a tears dropped from your eyes. “I’m not gonna lose you, not today!”

You yelled to him as you tried to make him eat the butterfly.

-

“Who are you without your vengeance?” Jordie screamed at Kaz as his face looked too pale and there were inflammation marks all over Jordie’s face. “What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?” Jordie said it with sadness, after completing his sentence the anger inside of him came back and his eyes light up with fire.

He drowned Kaz into the water again and Kaz’s felt the utter pain inside his body all over again. The feeling of his lungs feeling with water, utterly panicked him.

Then he heard a voice. It was not Jordie’s. Muffled but not his. It was a girl voice. “Kaz, come on!” She yelled, then as the hands pulled him back, he looked at the very face of Y/N.

The way her eyes looked too worried for him, the way her touch calmed his heart and as the way she pulled him, he looked so relieved to see her.

“Kaz, I’m so sorry,” She said as Kaz’s eyes opened. For a moment, Kaz didn’t feel Y/N’s touch on his face as his eyes met with hers, a sincere relief could be seen by anyone.

But Kaz remembered. The feeling of wet dead bodies flashed into his mind and suddenly he struggled under Y/N’s touch, Y/N hurriedly backed away from him and closed her eyes.

“Is anyone alive?” You heard Wylan’s worried voice. After Tolya and Inej briefly talked, you got up and avoided to look at Kaz. His back was turned from all of you. You got up slowly and looked at Inej. “Did anyone else get lulled into a comforting sense of joy?” Jesper said as his voice cracked, his eyes got teary.

“I didn’t see anything.” Kaz said it coldly as you looked at him. He breathed heavily then Inej briefly glanced at him. “Neither did I.” You didn’t comment on what you saw, you just dodged the question.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Tolya said.

-

After Kaz came up with a plan, Ohval walked in and all of you laid down and pretend to be unconscious. She opened the door and looked at all of you. Inej, was on the ceiling and she landed silently. While she was about to pull her knife, Ohval kicked her to the backyard.

Inej got up and pulled her knives. She threw them into Ohval but as Ohval put her hand up, she pushed the knives to the ground. Inej looked at Ohval with a terrified look.

Then all of you got up from the ground. Tolya, Jesper and you hurriedly ran to the backyard as Kaz went inside of the house. Inej threw several knives into Ohval but she was too quick to dodge Inej’s knives.

As Tolya, you and Jesper went to Inej’s side, Jesper and Tolya raised his gun to Ohval, you put your hands up waiting.

Ohval threw Tolya’s gun only a movement of her hand, then she looked at Jesper and warped Jesper’s guns.

When you saw what happened, you curled your hands and showed it to Ohval. Trying to slower her heartbeat into a dangerous rhythm. Tolya also raised his hands to join you but Ohval raised her hands and pulled all the knives in Inej’s waistcoat. She turned the weapons into your way.

It was too quick.

Tolya grunts, all of you dodged the knives. “Seriously offside.” Jesper said as he was very pissed about Ohval’s movements. She threw her hair accessory to Jesper’s neck as she tried to chock him with it. Tolya approached to Ohval’s side and he pulled a punch towards her but she defended herself too quickly. She punched Tolya’s arm while Inej also did a counter on Ohval. Ohval pulled away from Inej’s fist and turned to both of them.

As both Tolya and Inej tried to takedown Ohval, Jesper was still trying to not choke. You raised your hands quickly and curled it to target Ohval. As you were trying to air out of her lungs, she quickly punched both of them to the ground and raised her hands to you.

The next minute you knew, you were choking from loss of air, inside of your lungs. Your vision got blurry, Tolya and Inej looked at you briefly then they attacked Ohval again. As you felt ease, you breathe again. It was deep and, you were hurting.

But she was too strong. She kicked Tolya down and Inej threw her kick into hers but Ohval took her leg and threw her to the wall. You got up and tried to punch Ohval but she quickly dodged the punch and kicked you to the ground.

Inej took her knife as Ohval took one of hers. She tried to stab Inej but, Inej was able to dodge them. As she fought back to Ohval, it was no use. Ohval took her down and tried to stab the knife into Inej’s chest. She was resisting but she couldn’t hold it forever.

Tolya got up slowly as he begged for Inej’s life.

Then suddenly there was an explosion.

Zoya, Wylan and Nina came in just in time. Zoya curled her hands up and hit it Ohval with it. Ohval fell on the ground as all of you got up and and looked at Ohval.

You and Nina were giving Ohval a hard time. You two were trying to stop her heartbeat. But she was powerful, as she moved her hands to the side, all of you chocked.

Zoya gasped and all of you fell down with a movement of Ohval. “This is taking longer than I’d like… Perhaps, we end it.” Ohval said with a harshness in her voice. As she curled her hands, you felt your heart quickened. Your organs were hurting and your vision got blurry. You can only feel the pain and fear. You tried to resist it but she was too powerful.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Ohval said with a smirk. “The amount of trace metal there is in the body. Iron, for instance in the blood.”

As she was killing all of you, the sound of an old man came into the backyard. Ohval put her hands down as she released all of you.

You slowly got up from the ground, you saw Kaz. You felt shocked as you heard from Kaz that the Disciple was the man, not her.

Kaz smirked as he looked at Ohval. When the man in chair revealed he stole the Neshyenyer for her and that it belonged to her in the first place, Jesper stepped in. “I’m sorry did you say she made it?” he said.

As the older man got off from the chair and approached to her, he was telling about how she made it. Then Tolya smiled and completed his words.

He chuckled softly. “And it was named Neshyenyer, ‘Relentless.’” He then fell into his knees. “We are honored to be in your presence, Sankta Neyar.” He said as all of you, expect Kaz, fell into your knees for her. “Sankta Neyar?” Inej said surprisingly.

-

After Jesper took the blade from Sankta Neyar’s house, all of you walked off from her house. It was early hours of morning as the sun appeared in the sky, you took a fresh air into your lungs.

As Jesper was with Wylan, he was kissing him. While Nina, Zoya and Tolya walked away from the house. You, Inej and Kaz walked away too. As you squeezed gently Inej’s arm, Kaz looked at both of you.

Inej then turned her head to Kaz. She smiled softly and looked at you. “I’m gonna check in Jesper.” She squeezed your hand and walked away from the two of you.

You and Kaz walked silently as Inej left your side. After a minute of silence, Kaz broke it. “You never told, what you saw.” You looked at him in a shocked expression. You didn’t expect him to remember it.

“You didn’t see anything, maybe I didn’t see too.” You answered it as you tried to brush it off. But then Kaz stopped in his tracks and turned his body to you. “Maybe I did see something, through the haze of poison.” He admitted as when you hear his heartbeat, it got quicken. You looked at him deeply.

“There are those who drown us, and those who pull us out.” He looked at you deeply as he said these words. You felt blush crept into your cheeks as you watched him. For a brief moment you closed your eyes. “Maybe I did see something too.” You revealed weakly.

He looked at you with a visible concern in his face. “What did your toxin trip reveal to you?” He said it curiously. You then opened your eyes and felt tears in your eyes. Kaz’s eyebrows furrowed and you smiled softly. “My reason to live and my biggest nightmare. All in the same place.”

The reason you live because of Kaz.

The biggest nightmare was Kaz’s death.

Kaz looked at you, for a brief moment his eyes soften because of the tears in your eyes. “But it doesn’t matter, now, we are alive.” You said softly and turned your body and looked at the sky. Kaz, watched your face as you looked at the sky.

He saw living saints but none of them mattered to him. The only saint he believed in was standing next to him. The only one to be there for him through his nightmares and everything.

He would become a better man for her. He would be a better man, for her.

[nubimera]

I just want to say that Jason x child of Zagreus!Reader is so Helnik (Matthias x Nina) coded for me

[chaoticsomeone]

Blood and Hearts

Redhood x Heartrender!Reader(GN)

Redhood is being tortured. It was like all before. Joker. He seems powerless. Unable to fight due to his PTSD. You, his S/O saved him and earned yourself a spot in the Batfamily.

First time writing a fic so feedback will be appreciated

Heartrenders have the ability to manipulate the body. They can snatch the air from your lungs, slow your pulse until you fall into a coma, or even literally crush your heart—all if they can see their enemies

You sensed something was wrong. Jason hasn't returned. It was 2 am. Jason promised to be back by now. You rushed to call Babs.

Babs had told you that she has lost contact with Jason a few minutes before you called. And the last minute of the call she could hear the Joker. Batman and the others have tried to locate him but is unsuccesful. You loved Jay very much. You've been together for 3 years. He always is a man of his word. Even though you two were close, he never knew of your Grisha powers, Heartrending.

You put on your red kefta-like suit you kept hidden for so long. "It still fits like a glove" you muttered to yourself. Before going to find him. You held your shimmering scale necklace, an amplifier and a gift from Sankta Alina. Your mother and a Saint.

You were trained by some great grisha in your dimension. Notably the King and enrolled in a school for high-ranking Grisha. So you have learned to be agile yet perfectly accurate in all your movements.

Jumping roof to roof trying to find Jay yourself. After 15 minutes you gave up and called Dick. "Hey Dick, I know Jay is in trouble. Please let me help. I can be a good asset. Just meet me somewhere please." You said, you sounded determined yet worried. "Uh Y/N its dangerous, we're facing the Joker again. But the old bat agreed you can meet us atop the second tallest building in Gotham.

Once you arrived, you saw all the bats prepared. Robin's stern face, Nightwing's worried look and the girls talking with each other. Without Red, your Jay you felt weird again. You shaked that feelingwi off and sensed how worried Bruce was. Dick brought you to the bats and you were questioned about what you were wearing. "Did you become a vigilante too or something?" Dick asked, his grin is unmistakeable. You just smiled and said "You'll see, I have something that will assist us" You two decided to talk with the others for leads. After around 20 minutes you all decided you'd be going in partners checking 4 spots they had narrowed down. Bruce was reluctant to let you go but since Dick will be protecting you he finally allowed you to come along. Dick and you, Cass and Steph, Damian and Bruce, lastly Duke and Tim went your own ways soon after.

As Dick swung across buildings you leapt great distances. All the vehicles were used so you two were resorted to this. Along the way he asked you about what you meant with the suit and all. You finally opened up to being a Grisha Heartrender and Tailor and being from another universe entirely. You told him what you could do. After some more tlaking you finally arrived at the abandoned zoo. The smell of carcasses flooded your nose. With a swish of a hand you got rid of your ability to smell, offering to do the same for Nightwing.

Once you two were ready you walked around. After a few minuted passed you heard Jason's heavy panting and Joker's maniacal laugh. Nightwing will be flanking them behind them while you walking to them directly from a point where they both can see you clearly.

Raising your hands while muttering "saints, mom, help me" you moved your hands intricately yet quickly to give Joker a heart attack. While Joker was struggling you brought Redhood back to the present. You walked and talked to him while Nightwing holds the Joker's struggling body. You empowered Red and Nightwings body is a quick swish of your hands. Red got back to normal the moment Joker survived the heart attack. He wanted to ask you why you're there and all but you gave him a sharp look that said stay focused ask later. Red and Nightwing took turns attacking him. You threw them a nearby rope. You slowed the Joker's heartbeat putting him into a coma. Making it easier for Jay to carry him through the Night. But Joker was not an ordinary mortal. He some how managed to wake. Punching Red in the face. At this point you were angry. Your hands moved faster than ever gracefully dancing. You decided to use a harsher method of giving him a heartattack while squeezing his lungs. After Red and Nightwing got him tied up you put him into a deep coma with Redhood's punch and your powers.

Silence was all you all could hear. The other's landing breaked the silence. Batman hugged Redhood tightly. Red said "Wow Old man you actually missed me" as he took a step back. The bats looked at you and smiled or thanked you one way or another. They asked you to join them in certain missions. Jay especially was smiling, as he walked to you then lifted you up as he kissed you. You were relieved he's alive. But tomorrow you're sure you'd be given a lot of questions to answer to.

[yellowocaballero]

I would love to hear your thoughts on how twelve is wolfwood actually, if you'd like to talk about it.

I read this originally as "Wolfwood's the Doctor now?" Which honestly valid.

But yes! The show actually leaves it pretty ambiguous how old Wolfwood actually is chronologically (and if you're thinking 'he's definitely in his 30s, then you're implying Trigun is clear about anything lol). I'm inclined to lean much younger, for both thematic reasons and just because he didn't act very mature.

If you compare him with OG Wolfwood - who was also aged up, but much less drastically - it jumps out. He wrestles Meryl like an older brother, and he's pretty eager and hotheaded. He has a lot of very cynical thoughts about how terrible the world is, but they're actually pretty unnuanced and simple - WW and Sasuke, spot the difference. He doesn't come off as somebody with a lot of life experience. He pretty much outright Big Brother Complex's all over Vash. He swapped out Livio for Vash, and that's why he ended up turning around to save him. The parallels were pretty there.

I'd also say that Wolfwood's flat cynicism and hatred of the world is portrayed as an 'immature' viewpoint, while Vash's faith and hope in humanity is portrayed as the 'mature' one. Brad says this explicitly. Vash also never really debates WW like in 98/Trimax, and he tends to retreat instead of engage him on an equal level. They don't engage with each other as two adults. Wolfwood clearly has the mind of the adult, understands the world as an adult would, and is able to function as an adult in the world - but I'm not really sure he has the maturity or life experience to be able to be treated equivalent to a full adult. College student energy.

Vash's youth makes him act a lot older than in 98. He hasn't solidified his persona or who he is yet. Meryl is an absolute kiddo and this is her coming of age story as she gains life experience and loses a parental figure. Knives is stuck in a psychosexual arrested development. And Wolfwood is a child in an adult's body, who never at any point acts particularly like his adult self. Tesla and Monev are tortured and murdered children. Stamp is, in a lot of ways, about the suffering and abuse of children in a cruel system and how this suffering, literally, causes them to 'grow up too quickly'.

As I said, Trigun rejects any solid certainties. I lean closest to the interpretation of Wolfwood as an overgrown kid and functional college student, because I feel like it's the most thematically cohesive and meaningful. I see ppl basically scribble over his backstory and status to make him an adult with zero caveats, but I always think...like, he was given that backstory for a reason. The change was drastic and it was done very purposefully. Why was that change there? How do we see that reflected in the drastically different Wolfwood? "Hey, Wolfwood doesn't actually act like an adult" is a meaningful observation.

This is not mutually exclusive with him being an adult for 5+ years, and this is not some sort of "Vashwood is problematic" dunk. It's frustrating to me that any mention of the genuine ambiguity about Wolfwood's age and maturity is interpreted as an attack of Vashwood, and the pushback gives some very definite "Wolfwood is for sure 35 with a mortgage" answers. It's ignoring some really important stuff about Tristamp. And the very frequent ship dynamic interpretation as Vash as the naive one and Wolfwood as the world-weary one absolutely just drains Trigun out of what makes it meaningful at all.

Hm meant for that answer to be shorter. As usual, there's a lot to say. Thanks for the ask!

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday! Fish Feeding Frenzy 🍽️🫀🐟

“Alright, I’ll leave you kids to it. Let us know when you find a good fishing spot.” you grinned waving a hand, “ok Uncle Masaru!” “Bye Mr. Bakugou!” ———

“yea, yeah, we’ll find the best damn fishing spot . . .”

You turned to Katsuki clad in a tank-top and khakis. His blonde spiky hair rustling in the breeze. Katsuki’s bulky pro hero frame crouched as he had his nose buried into the map. “Pops is just saying that because he knows it’ll take us forever,” he said, red eyes tracing the lines. In the captains chair Izuku grinned, nudging your leg with his elbow, “But it’ll be fun, right Y/N?” Your own lips turned into a smile as Izuku hastily reached up to tuck a fly-away curl of hair off his forehead and back into his transparent plastic All Might visor. “Of course! As long as we can see where we’re going,” you teased. You tucked another stray curl into his hat with your own hand. And he failed at holding in a snicker at the summery additions to your lovely face, to which you appropriately flicked his shoulder for. The outdoors captains station was set on top of the boat. It held all the same equipment as the one downstairs inside the ship. The outdoors station was a nice way to enjoy the nicer weather out at sea. The sparkling sea and just the right amount of sun on your face. This station was set underneath a little shaded fabric roofing.

That didn’t stop Katsuki from forcibly smearing a line of sunscreen across the top of your cheeks and nose. I mean Izuku didn’t even receive any and Katsuki himself only had the touristy line across his nose! Not that anybody would see it within the next hour because he was gonna have his nose buried the entire time as he directed Izuku to what looked like the best fishing spot.

Of course that would always be stopped by your vetoing. You were always mandated to fishing-spot duty because of your quirk . . . and the boys always insisted on joining you. It was obviously a man thing.

——— “Ok. If you move 13 degrees northwest then she’ll be heading straight towards this - “ Kats paused waving a hand around in the air, “it’s some giant seasonal breeding for a bunch a’ fish.” “Aye aye captain.” He saluted. Looking across the dashboard flipping knobs and calibrating the compass. You leaned against the railing staring out at the great big blue that surrounded you, giving a side-eye back, “Isn’t he technically captain right now?” Izuku stammered up, “well I’m still following orders.” “hmm, guess that true,” you hummed, pushing off the railing and scooted over next to Katsuki, “show me where we’re going.” Mr. Grouchy Pants humbly obliged. Well that was certainly new. He leaned in and moved his arms down so you could see it, “We’re heading here now. Should be a lot of fish according to the thick-ass fishing tome in the drawer.” he jutted his thumb over toward the drawers by the captains chair. Izuku perked up to look at y’all hovering over the map, “Kacchan, Are you making a jab at those printed copies of mission statement papers that we had to pack?” “Course I am. Couldn’t get it done before the trip so -“

“- so we had to bring them along. It’s really loooong paperwork,” Izuku made eye contact with you, “luckily we have two missions that we did together in the car and we just copied each other.” “Fascinating, tell. . .” thump-thump. Th. Thuuump. thu. Ump. thump. thump. thump-thump thump.

too many stuttering heartbeats. they all clamored for your attention. all sounding like a stuttering snare. there must be a freaking feeding frenzy happening right under your feet. Right now. “Can I just - oh. my. god.” You yelped, causing Katsuki to flinch right next to you. Kacchan and Izuku both looked at each other with knowing look you missed as you scrambled. You had your hands clamped over your ears. Izuku lifted an arm out of the way for you to jump into his lap. hands still clamped, you shuttered, “swing left, there’s a big feeding frenzy happening right under us.” You sat in his lap. Clenching your eyes shut as you tried not to focus on the murderous assault on your ears. You could feel Izuku hurriedly put his other hand back on the steering wheel and hear how he started flipping all the switches to turn the boat around. You kept your eyes closed and your ear covered. Your senses flooded with bickering atop of . . . everything else . . . well needless to say death amplified was a horrible sound. Katsuki immediately argued, “but we have to go in that direction.” “Grr! Kacchan, lay off.” you flinched, it was uncommon for him to stand up to your friend.

you glimpsed up as Izuku peered down at you with those kind emerald eyes, “are you sure Y/N?” You stared up at them. Katsuki with his arms crossed staring down at you from over Izuku’s shoulder. A blank face. Then in front of you was Izuku. Caring eyes and a slight frown on the corner of his lip. Curly hair dancing behind that goofy fanboy visor that shadowed his face full of freckles in red, blue, and yellow light. there was a reason they called him the next All Might.

. . . But that hat may be a tad much.

——

“yeah I’m sure,” you flinched.

Katsuki raised his eyebrows and puffed a hot stream of air out of his nose that reached the top of your head.

You sighed, “there’s not gonna be any fish left. The sharks or whatever are moving in that direction already.” He huffed again, “alright then. go around for now. Y’er always right.”

——— you sighed, Izuku’s arms circling around you as he finished redirecting the ship. “this is my least favorite part . . .” you mumbled. “me too,” he said, the breeze changed. “I know it must sound terrible.” You peered around to see katsuki burying himself into the map again. You simply nodded and laid your head against his shoulder. and a warm hand came to gently rub up and down you arm. Goosebumps prickled under his hot and calloused touch. Izuku rested his chin on the top of your head, “listen all you want.” A invitation to stay there and focus on the familiar heartbeat underneath your head.

“Want me to talk?” “Go for it! Nerd’s a good rambler.” You rolled your eyes feeling a giant fall against your side as Izuku sighed from Kacchans typical, but not so helpful response. “yes please, what are those big tomes about?” You listened to the rush of air, “well we need to record our missions for dexterity and last week was a nightmare. Some crazy villain-“

“What do ya mean ‘villain’ it was a whole damn drug organization, Deku!” “ok so well it started off as one guy and he led us to the rest of the organization. But we didn’t know it at the time. Happy?” “Ya’ go back to your story. And don’t leave out the good parts.” “Ok, so we come across this one guy. He’s been milling around the mall parking lot for days. There’s this huge van and everything . . . We’ve been watching him for months now . . . has a, um, how do I explain it?” “just say previous record.” “Yea he has a previous record at the local police department. And -“

“Ahem - Deku?” “Right! So y/n what happened before that is actually really important to make the story work . . . “ ——— An oceans breeze tickled your face, a friends hand sanding down your army of goosebumps, a salty tint to the air, a new story told in the most typical “Wonder Duo” fashion. Yourself cozied up on a friends lap, funny colors shading your freckled arm that was still being loving stroked. The funny weight of Deku talking on top of your head. A full cocooning of sound, heartbeat and voice surrounding your preciously sensitive head. The frenzy of stuttering heartbeats fading in the distance as you sailed away.

[delusionalgirlwritingfanfic]

Definitely inspired by the Mummy, Tolya deserves more love

The door to the shop rang as Tolya stood where shelves of books lined the wall. The cashier desk with a sign labeled ring for assistance accompanied with a bell. He began to walk around deciphering the layout of the categorized sections. A few aisles down, he came upon a woman with one arm as she stretched beyond her reach, whose leg arched balancing on a wobbling ladder. The other foot barely touched the wood beam as she pressed herself, straining further.

A startled gasp left her lips, her fingers brushed the top, the latter rolled out from beneath, her foot stuck out as far as it could reach eyes widening as hands supported her waist before the pair fell crashing to the floor, the books scattered littering the ground in a mess.

Frazzled hair fell into her eyes, feeling large arms surrounding her figure she jumped, “ Oh, I’m terribly sorry.”

“ Are you alright?” Tolya extended his hand to her, lifting her off the floor.

“ Oh, yes, this is rather typical, not the first of similar occurrences.” She rambled and paused, blowing stray hair out of her eyes as she took in the man before her, not the nornal regular looking type to in a bookshop with his katanas strapped to his back.

“ You should be more careful.” Tolya observed the book shopkeeper who drew in air to steady herself. She wore a Peter Pan collared shirt and skirt.

The ribbon in her hair hung loose, and she pulled the string untangling the pieces, her chin tilted up, proving herself finishing the bow. “ Well, I’m an independent woman. I like to get things done.”

Tolya easily retrieved items off the top, reaching up the shelf, giving the girl her novel. “ By getting things done, you mean creating more work, right? Is this what you were reaching for?” He looked back at the girl, she cleared her throat, a blush on her cheeks under her breath muttered a “ Thank you.” In embarrassment.

Later, the woman, while cleaning she saw his tall figure between the allies heading for the register.

“ I’ll be there in just a minute!” She called to him rushing to set down the book on her cart, forgetting there were still some littered beneath her feet. She felt her foot get caught stumbling as she made her way behind to the register.

When the bell rang as he exited the shop, her head peaked around watching him going down the sidewalk past her window, now fully out of view the woman dropped with a groan draping her body against the countertop banging her head on the table, “ Ow.”

[girlspecimen]

i cannot deal with the parts where they randomly make kumasawa into like the story's greek choir. its so funny

[hearts-hunger]

OKAYYY I CAN'T WAIT TO READ THIS

i love that danny is more mild when he's not on camera that's adorable and so him i feel

HA THEY ALL CALLED DIBS LMAOOO

josh and sam fighting over who gets danny while jake is already bored with him PLEASE

awww jakey died of heartbreak why did that make me want to cry lowkey i love him being a sassy ghost but secretly sweet

danny being actually scared and not wanting the ghosts to talk to him omg bless him

naurrr sam loving danny's laugh i will die

HAHAHA SAM SAYING NO A MILLION TIMES

the repeated stay is so poignant like for such a fun fic that is really an emotional gut punch

WANT oh my god???

FOR THEM????? THEM?????? MY LORD

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka (kinda?)

Summary: Ghost hunter extraordinaire Danny Wagner takes on Kiszka Manor with a Ouija board and a dream. Luckily, the ghosts like him. One of them likes him a lot.

Tags: Ghosts, mentions of murder/death/disease/suicide, arguments, majority silly goofy I promise!!!!

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: My submission for the GVF Writers Halloween Event organized by the wonderful @hearts-hunger! Such a fun idea and I'm excited to participate.

Prompt #2: Real Haunted House

--

“Hey guys! Welcome back to my channel! Today, I’m at the famous haunted Kiszka Manor to investigate its history and see if we can get in touch with the spirits that haunt these grounds!”

Danny took a confident step back as he grinned wildly at the camera, his hand moving from a wave to a theatrical gesture to accompany his continuing speech. 

“This building has been abandoned ever since the mysterious string of deaths that plagued its halls finally came to an end in 1899 with the death of its last living inhabitant, Samuel Kiszka, the youngest member of the family that had lived in the house since it was built. The house was sold to new owners a few years later, but they lasted no more than two months before fleeing, claiming that the rampant paranormal activity was making it impossible to live there. Since then, countless paranormal investigators have braved a night within these walls, but nobody has ever made it to sunrise without experiencing something that they couldn’t explain.”

Danny reached off camera to grab the sleeping bag that he’d leaned up against the kitchen wall prior to shooting, giving it a little shake as he smirked.

“Tonight, I will be joining that brave league,” Danny explained. “And I’m going to catch it all on camera for your viewing entertainment. Stay tuned to see if I survive a night at Kiszka Manor.”

He ended the recording and let out a relieved breath, flipping the viewfinder in and setting the camera down on the table he’d laid his other equipment on. He startled when his movement jostled the sleeping bag and sent it unfurling down his torso. It swung down onto the dusty wooden floors, quickly gathering a cobwebbed dust bunny as he tried to shake it off. Danny grimaced and lifted it up, giving it another genuine shake.

“Aw, gross,” he said to himself, now much more quiet and meek that the camera was off. “Ew.”

-

In the parlor facing the kitchen doorway, the three spirits that did in fact haunt the house were watching Danny with an amused calculation. When they spoke, they spoke in synchrony.

“Dibs.”

-

After rolling his sleeping bag up with an annoyed huff, Danny ignored the chill running down his spine and the uncomfortable jerk of a nerve in his ear. A surely false sense of being watched started to overtake him the longer he stood in the empty mansion. And a mansion it certainly was, with three expansive stories just waiting for Danny and his camera to go exploring in…alone…at night…

Sometimes Danny wondered what his nights would be like if those silly ghost hunting videos he’d made in his college dorm hadn’t gone so viral and asserted him as a cornerstone of the Youtube ghost community. Maybe he’d be unwinding from a 9-5, lazy on the couch and warm from a home cooked dinner. Maybe there’d be someone there with him, laying their head on his chest and making light conversation.

But here he was. Standing with his hands on his hips in a pathetic attempt to gather any semblance of authority and trying not to shake in his shabby Nike sneakers as he noticed the retreating creep of daylight out of the corner of his eye. In a very old, probably asbestos filled house that was also probably full of ghosts that already hated his nosy guts. 

Great.

-

Luckily for Danny, there was something untrue about his assumption. The ghosts did not already hate him. Actually, they were quite taken with him.

“Is it just me, or do these guys keep getting cuter and cuter?” Josh cooed, coasting through the kitchen to assess Danny from every angle. “They must be putting something in the water these days.”

“Cradle robber,” Jake laughed, following his twin through the doorway.

“Back off, I called dibs first,” Sam complained, trailing behind them in his unsteady float. “He’s already talked about me. I have claim!”

“Oh yeah? Then what’s this?” Josh teased, shimmying up next to the light switch and pressing his translucent fingers into the wall. He gave them a wiggle with a challenging smile as the overhead light started to flicker, causing Danny’s head to jerk in surprise and his eyes to widen as Josh made the bulb flit a few more times before slowly burning it out. Danny strode to the light switch and gave it a few desperate flicks, never taking his eyes off of the light.

“That’s a cheap trick,” Sam accused, his lip curling as Josh removed himself from the wall and straightened his lapels. “He deserves some distinguished communication.”

“He’s not going to be any fun at all,” Jake sighed, already seemingly bored by Danny’s anxious stature. “It’s only fun when they’re skeptics. Let’s just toss some crystals from the chandelier and slam a door and get him out as soon as we can.”

“Oh, come on, it’s been ages since our last little ghost hunter,” Josh lamented, flopping over sideways into the air and landing as if he’d fallen onto a bed. “It’s nice to have some company.”

“We might actually be able to talk to him, too,” Sam noted excitedly, directing his older brother’s attention to the all too familiar board sticking out of one of Danny’s tote bags. “Now that I call dibs on.”

“What, so you can ask him if he like-likes anyone?” Jake teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam and letting out a laugh when Sam made an incredulous sound and floated into the next room. If Sam had still been in his body, they all knew his cheeks would have been flushed.

-

“Okay, guys, it’s been about an hour since I arrived, and I’m getting ready here to hopefully talk to some spirits.”

Danny had set himself up in one of the bedrooms on the second level, the one at the very end of the hall with a grand window that let in enough light for Danny to be able to see the Ouija board he’d placed on the carpet in front of him. 

“I still don’t understand how there’s people in the cameras,” Josh observed, pointing a finger at the viewfinder that Danny was reflected in. “I only see him. Is it like a telephone?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Jake shrugged. He and Josh had settled on the four poster bed on the opposite wall, chatting amongst themselves while Danny lit a few candles and their younger brother giddily took post on the opposite side of the Ouija board. Sam was generally a pretty mopey ghost considering his circumstances, but there was something about this particular person that really piqued his interest. It was odd, especially to his brothers, but it was also too exciting to ignore.

For his brothers, it was odd for a different reason. It was concerning. 

“Alright,” Danny started, clearing his throat and trying to avoid stalling any more. “Let’s do this.”

He set the camera down on the end of the bed right in front of where the ghostly twins sat cross legged, and they mimed holding it steady and pressing the buttons with a collective giggle. Sam scowled at them and gestured for them to get away from it, knowing that their interaction with the technology could provide Danny with some interesting warped footage that would take away from his prospective Ouija interview. 

“I’ve set up camp here in the south wing of the house in the room that used to belong to Samuel, who I very briefly touched on earlier,” Danny explained to the camera, settling into the animated lecturing tone he adopted for his videos. “On the opposite end of the hallway are the rooms that belonged to his older brothers, Joshua and Jacob, who died a year before him.”

On the bed, Josh and Jake raised their hands like roll call, and Sam rolled his eyes at them.

“From what I’ve been able to find, it seems that Joshua contracted cholera in the spring of 1897 and suffered with it for a year before finally passing away in 1898, with his twin brother Jacob passing away just a few days later from an unrelated cardiac event that left their youngest brother alone in the estate.”

“Thank you again for that one, you guys,” Sam commented dryly. “That wasn’t super lonely or anything.”

“I still think it was very dramatic of you to die from heartbreak,” Josh snorted, nudging Jake.

“Who says it was heartbreak?” Jake teased right back. “I was simply so overcome with the joy of finally being free of you that I croaked.”

“I would like to try and run the spirit box in their rooms later on in the night, but I wanted to start in here,” Danny went on, setting the planchette on the board. “I couldn’t really find much about how Samuel died, except for that his autopsy reported some broken bones and internal injury. If I’m lucky, maybe he’ll tell me.”

“He jumped out a window!” Jake yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

“Shut up!” Sam snapped. They both exchanged faces before Sam turned to give his full attention back to Danny, who was very hesitantly placing his first and middle fingers on the planchette. He waited for Danny to trace three circles before adding his own fingers to the wood, wishing for a moment that he was still able to feel anything at all so he could feel the warmth of Danny’s skin. Now that was something Sam missed: warmth.

“Is there anyone here who would like to talk to me?” Danny asked gingerly. Whenever he asked, he always hoped deep down that nobody would answer.

Unfortunately for him, Sam was eager to talk, and he concentrated all of his energy on very laboriously sliding the planchette over to his answer.

YES

Danny stared at the board for a second, trying to zero in on the twitch of muscles in his fingers and finally deducing that his subconscious must have moved the planchette. Danny had had plenty of paranormal experiences with shadow figures and moving doors, but he’d never been lucky with the Ouija board before.

“O-kay, that’s great,” Danny squeaked out. “Wow. Okay. Yeah. Can you tell me your name?”

S A M

It took a lot of effort to move the planchette and Sam figured his nickname would be enough. He wanted to preserve his energy so they could talk for as long as he wanted to.

“Ooh, keeping it casual, I see,” Josh sang. “You’re best friends already.”

“Sam,” Danny repeated, his heart racing so fast he worried it would freeze up. “Are you the same Sam who lived here? Samuel?”

YES

“Wow,” Danny blurted, flustered from this revelation. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Danny. You, uh, your house is very nice.”

“Danny?” Jake echoed in a thin, nasally mockery. “Good grief, what’s with names these days? What’s so bad about Daniel?”

Sam glowered at him before steeling himself to reply again.

T H A N K Y O U

“You’re welcome,” Danny answered, still dumbfounded. 

He was talking to a real ghost. This was proof, if not for the camera but for himself. He knew his comments section would be filled with accusations, but Danny knew somewhere deep in his gut that it was not him rigging the game.

This was real.

“How old are you?” Danny asked, realizing with a panic that he wasn’t nearly as prepared as he’d hoped. He was really grasping for straws with his questions.

2 4

“Hey, so am I!” Danny laughed. Sam grinned and shivered at the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a laugh that wasn’t his own or his brothers, or one that wasn’t at the expense of their house from so-called ghost hunters far less courteous than Danny. Usually when Sam was around, people were screaming. But here was a laugh. It was a nice change of pace.

“Is it just you in the house?” Danny asked.

NO 

“Can I ask who else is here with you?” 

J J

“JJ?” Danny repeated with a confused frown. “Who’s JJ? OH, do you mean your brothers? Joshua and Jacob?”

“Come on, Sam, give him a little more to work with,” Jake scolded.

“My arms hurt,” Sam whined. “It’s not my fault your names have so many letters. He figured it out, anyways!”

YES

“Oh, well, hello to them, too,” Danny greeted nervously, looking around the room for where they may be lurking. “They don’t want to talk?”

NO 

“Any reason why?” 

E F F O R T

“It’s a lot of effort? To move it?”

YES

“Oh, so you can spell that but not Jacob? That’s too much work?”

“I’m sorry,” Danny apologized. “We can stop.”

When the planchette moved again, it was fast and aggressive.

NO NO NO

“Don’t scare him too bad,” Josh murmured, taking note of Danny’s tense body language and Sam’s frantic eyes. “Easy.”

“Okay, we’ll keep going,” Danny said, cringing at the slight shake in his voice. “Uh…sorry, I really wasn’t expecting a reply. I’m kind of blanking. You must get the Ouija board treatment all the time.”

NO 

“No? Really? I feel like that’s what everybody brings to haunted houses.”

Danny cringed again, breaking out in a cold sweat when he thought about what he’d said. Did Sam know he was dead? Was it a touchy subject? 2 years of ghost investigation and Danny was only now considering the ghost’s perspective. 

Sam watched Danny stick his tongue in his cheek and visibly ponder potential questions. He felt very grateful that Danny couldn’t see how intensely he was staring. Sam made detailed notes of the spray of freckles across his nose and the Botticelli furrow of his brows, the way his hair grew long and gathered at his shoulders in a way that Sam envied and never would’ve been allowed to do in his time. If he listened closely, he could hear his heart beating, panicked and bloody and alive. 

“What is death like?” Danny found himself asking, the words rushing out in a whisper. He couldn’t help himself. It was all he could think about in this place, with its silent halls and chatty spirits.

Sam smiled.

L I G H T 

“Light?”

C A L M

“Sam,” Josh warned. “Watch yourself.”

H A P P Y 

Danny felt a wave of relief pass over him at the affirmation. He’d long since forgotten that the camera was on and felt no sense of self consciousness at his little shiver of excitement.

“That sounds nice,” Danny smiled. “I think people worry that it’s all hellfire and empty spaces and whatnot, so that’s good to hear. I’m sorry you died so young. At least you avoided The Great Depression and stuff.”

“The who?” Sam said out loud to himself, earning a laugh from his brothers.

“Well,” Danny sighed. “I’m probably going to end this now. Is there anything else you want to tell me before I put the board away?”

Sam’s heart sank. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. According to Danny, he’d be moving to the twins’ rooms next, and knowing them, they’d keep his spirit box chattering all night with their incessant scares. It wasn’t fair. Everybody always came to the house for Josh and Jake and their heart wrenching, freaky-deaky twin deaths and their boyish paranormal antics. 

When was the last time somebody had come here looking for him?

“Tell him he needs a haircut,” Jake suggested. “Tell him you’re Satan.”

“They always go running with that one,” Josh agreed. “What’s the other one? ZOZO? No clue where that comes from but it sure freaked out those guys from Seattle.” 

Sam ignored them. The only thing he could hear was Danny.

S T A Y

Danny chuckled nervously.

“Stay? Am I really such a great interviewer?”

S T A Y

Jake and Josh exchanged glances. 

“Okay, Sam, time to hang up,” Jake demanded, leaning forward off the side of the bed and pulling on Sam’s shoulder. “We are not doing this again.”

“He’s different,” Sam insisted, shrugging Jake off and moving his fingers on the planchette so that they spliced with Danny’s. The temperature change was subtle, but it was enough that Danny felt his fingers go cold. He eased up on the pressure he’d been applying out of fear that he’d begun to cut off his circulation.

“You said that about the last two,” Josh reminded harshly, joining Jake’s effort to try and pull Sam away from the board. “Back off. We’ll spook him on the spirit box and he’ll be out by the sunrise.”

W A N T 

Every alarm bell inside Danny’s gut was blaring full volume and he knew he needed to end the session and get going. He couldn’t help but keep glancing up at the empty space in front of him, trying to remember anything about Sam’s appearance from the online archives he’d used for research the night prior. It was only when he looked back down at the board did he catch a glimpse of something in his peripheral; a smudge of brown hair, pale skin…or was it the candlelight playing tricks on him?

“It’s been nice talking to you, Sam,” Danny blurted hurriedly, struggling to speak with such strong paranoia twisting in his stomach. “Goodbye, now!”

With an unheard frustrated shriek on Sam’s behalf, Danny circled the planchette three times again and pulled his hand back like it’d been resting on a hot stovetop. He let out a rattling breath of relief and turned back towards the camera, acknowledging it with a jolt and flashing the screen a relieved smile before scooping it off the bed. 

“You heard it here first, folks,” Danny announced with a breathless chuckle, pushing his curly bangs off his forehead. “Your man Dan is in hot demand on the grounds of Kiszka Manor.”

-

“You’ve got to control yourself, Sam, for heaven’s sake,” Josh reprimanded. 

Danny had left the room a few minutes ago, abandoning them with haste in favor of setting up motion detectors and a spirit box in Jake’s room at the other end of the hall. But the twins were in no hurry to go play with any of Danny’s toys yet. 

“Now you know why we don’t like you to interact,” Jake added, his words landing like a slap on Sam’s stormy face. “You get too involved.”

“Why are you two the only ones who ever get to have fun?” Sam yelled, getting to his feet and facing the wall away from them with his arms crossed haughtily. “Why am I in trouble? I’m an adult! I’m 149 years old! Leave me the hell alone!”

“If we could get away from you, we would,” Josh spat. “Trust me. But we can’t. And you’re not allowed to ‘have fun’ because your idea of fun is KILLI-”

“I’VE NEVER KILLED ANYBODY!” Sam howled, his hands coming up like claws next to his face. He still refused to look at either of his brothers.

“Then would you care to find another explanation for our forlorn ghostly companions in our attic? I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you!”

“JUST GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

“That boy should count himself pretty lucky he remembered to close the portal,” Jake sneered at Sam’s back. “We’re going to go give him a scare or two and then we’re going to leave him alone. And I recommend you do too. Do you hear me?”

Sam fell deathly silent, the weight of his fury draining any last remnants of warmth that the candle had left behind and plunging the thermostat as low as he felt.

“Christ,” was the last thing Sam heard muttered before he felt them leave the room, making sure to let the door slam behind them and conjure up a muffled scream of fright from Danny down the hall. 

Once Sam was certain they were gone, he relaxed his incorporeal body out of his act of tense rage and turned to look over his shoulder at the door. He was wearing the lazy smile that he’d been unable to wipe off his face and had to hide from his family. That was a curse of his that he carried into his afterlife; he just couldn’t help but wear his heart on his sleeve. 

Except that Sam didn’t have a heart anymore. It had died with him, of course, but he was pretty sure it had given its last beat on the day that he was left the only surviving member of his family. With a house too big, a backyard overpopulated with graves, and a town that offered only thoughts and prayers in his time of need, Sam lost his ability to feel. It had been so blank inside his chest that Sam figured the only explanation was that his heart had simply shriveled up and withered away. He’d gone looking for it in death but found himself somehow twice as lonely even with a reunion as sweet as the one he’d had with his siblings. 

But now he’d found it again, that rhythmic pulse that he heard from the ribcage of a polite ghost hunter that had been delivered to his door by what seemed like the hand of God. He was sure of it, actually. Danny was here because he was meant to be Sam’s, meant to drive away all that endless, bleak loneliness and bring back his capacity to love.

Why else would have Danny done the closing circles on the Ouija board in the same direction as he had the first time? Every paranormal professional knew you ended things by moving the planchette in a counterclockwise direction. And Danny really seemed like he knew his stuff. 

Sam smiled wider. Danny must’ve left the portal open on purpose. Just for him. 

Down the hall, Sam could hear another dampened scream from Danny, no doubt from the twins tossing a ghostly buzzword in between radio waves. On the bed, Sam noticed for the first time that Danny had thrown his sleeping bag across its expanse, already unzipped and ready to receive him. 

Them. 

It may have been unbeknownst to everyone except for Sam, but the night had just begun.

--

[kasagia]

Secret affairs

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x fem!grisha! reader Summary: Rumours and whispers are circulating in the Little Palace that General Kirigan has found himself a mysterious woman with whom he spends his nights. One morning Ivan learns that the rumours are true. Fedyor will not rest until he finds out who their Black General's new lover is—who is the one who makes him much less grumpy. Requested by: @drinix (I AM SOOOO SOOO SORRY THAT IT TOOK ME AGES! BUT I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, HONYE!!! 🖤🖤🖤🖤) Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

One morning, Aleksander sips his coffee and looks through the reports Ivan has just delivered to his desk. He has a meeting with his colonels in a few minutes, and he's struggling with his lack of sleep. At least this time, he has a better reason to stay up late than answering letters and planning new battle tactics.

He smiles, remembering the night he spent with you. He runs a hand over his jaw, trying to shake the thought of you beneath him. How you trembled at his every little touch, the sweet sounds you made as he struck your most sensitive spots with pinpoint precision, how wonderful you looked sprawled out on the bed, a clean, quivering mess as he tasted you to his liking…

"Forgive me, General, but I can't find your kefta." Ivan's voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Aleksander absentmindedly picks up the reports again, knowing full well that he has to read them before he goes to any meetings, and, ignoring Ivan a bit, mumbles under his breath, asking him to repeat what he just said. "I can't find your kefta, sir."

"My kefta?" Aleksander repeats, surprised. Ivan has never had any problems with this simple task before. Suddenly he remembers why his heartrender can't find his keft. "I must have left it at hers." Aleksander mutters under his breath, unaware that he is saying it so loudly that Ivan can hear him.

Heartrender frowns and stares at his general in shock as he casually takes his reports and heads to the main war room for a meeting.

As soon as Ivan enters the room, he meets the questioning gaze of his beloved. Feydor immediately notices how pale and nervous Ivan has become and that his heart is beating a little faster. He decides to ask him what happened. And a few hours later, Ivan confirms to Feydor the rumours that have been circulating in the Little Palace.

General Kirigan had a secret affair.

"I can't believe it! Him?" Alina's whisper reaches you as you sit down at the table right next to Fedyor.

"Who are we gossiping about? The healer who almost broke a bone in one of the Inferni yesterday while so-called healing?"

"No. Ivan couldn't find the general's kefta this morning. And when he told him, he mumbled that he must have left it at HERS. Do you understand? At HERS. HER. SHE. A WOMAN."

"Yes, Fedyor. I understood at first time when you said it." You laugh at his excitement about this new rumour.

"No you don't! You don't know what it means if you are not at least as interested and excited as me or Alina." Fedyor informs you in a very serious way.

You roll your eyes at his foolish behaviour and looks at Aleksander who is coming into the great hall. In his black kefta.

"No way! It must be someone from the Little Palace! Look at him, he is wearing it now! Someone had to give it to him." Fedyor whispers conspiratorially to the three of you, staring at the general.

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused when the man quickly feigns interest in his food as Aleksander's gaze falls on the three of you. He nods at you and leaves the room.

"Sorry, duties." You say and take an apple from the table. "Try not to interrogate everyone around you about the general's new beloved. She may get embarrassed or scared and leave him and he'll become a pain in our asses again." You tease him and leave him and Alina to discuss this new revelation.

You walk quickly through the hallway of the Little Palace, practically running after Aleksander. You burst into his war room and before you can say a word, his lips are on yours.

You moan softly, surprised by the suddenness of his kiss. You tangle your hands in his hair and hum against his mouth as he slips his tongue into your mouth, pinning you against the door. You’re breathless as he practically devours you, drinking in all your moans and whimpers of pleasure as his large, strong hands caress the cheeks of your ass.

"I was thinking about it since I left your side." He mumbles, pressing small kisses to your jaw. You sigh, digging your hands into the collar of his kefta and pushing him away from you with a heavy heart, but you have to get the message across to him before you get lost in each other again.

"You have to be more careful. Fedyor got something out of Ivan and knows you have a mistress."

"So you are my secret mistress now?" He asks, chuckling against your neck. You bite your lip as his beard teasingly grazes your neck, plump lips nipping at your skin.

"Call me that again and you will be comming back from my chamber to yours all naked." You growl, but your threat carries little fear as Aleksander begins to unbutton your own kefta.

"You wouldn't dare..." He mumbles against your skin and all you can do is tug on his hair in retaliation as he traces his marks across your collarbone and moves lower, approaching the valley between your breasts.

"So sure?" You gasp, trying your best to remain intimidate to him, but it is a challenge when his fingers work so smoothly in undressing you.

"Uh-huh." He mumbles and kisses you again, this time more forcefully than last time, making your legs buckle slightly. He holds you tightly by the waist and lifts you up, navigating through his room and laying you on his bed, which is filled with books.

"I... um... sorry. I should have cleaned up here." He mumbles to himself and throws the books to the floor in his haste. You laugh at him and grab his arm.

"I don't mind... besides it will be quite hard to explain why you suddenly clean your rooms without any suspicion about this new lover of yours." You tease him with a smirk, but he doesn't seem to share your good humour at all.

He's lost in thought, stroking your cheek with his thumb thoughtfully and not responding to your teasing, just staring at you sprawled beneath him, shadows slowly creeping out of his control and draping over the foot of the bed.

"Shouldn't we... make this official?" He asks, staring at you with those night-dark eyes of his. You shiver, surprised by his question.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat and control your slight panic attack as he continues to stare at you, waiting patiently waiting for your answer and searching your face carefully for any reaction.

"What for? That's... quite a comfortable... deal we are in. Besides, I don't want them to talk that I am your second-in-command just because I slept with you. And I thought you liked that our relationship is strictly private and well... not to anyone's eyes?"

"Yeah... yeah, I do. You probably are right. Having you in the darkness is much more entertaining than in the daylight."

You know from the way he frowns slightly that this isn't the answer he was expecting. But if anything, Aleksander is a pathological people-pleaser. So he doesn't say anything about his true feelings about the secrecy of your relationship and instead leans in for a kiss.

Which subconsciously makes you feel incredibly guilty.

"Come here... let me help you relax, moi soverenyi." You moan against his lips and straddle him, deciding that this afternoon you will serve your general.

But no matter how many kisses you press into his skin, how many marks you leave, or how many times you make him moan your name, you still feel a burning feeling of guilt inside.

You try with all your might to focus your attention solely on giving him as much pleasure as possible, but your thoughts involuntarily wander to his proposal. You weren't ready to show the two of you to the world yet. You weren't ready for the judgemental looks from others. You'd rather everything stay the way it was. Just you and Aleksander, your little secret, stole kisses and nights between each other's sheets.

You were completely happy with that. But as you can see, your Sasha wanted more.

And you weren't entirely sure if you could give it to him now.

You wake up blissfully aching. Aleksander's shadows float across his bedroom, obscuring the entire room, blocking out any sunlight. You turn your gaze to the man whose chest your head rests on.

You smile, watching the sleeping shadow summoner. It's rare to see him so... calm, rested. Unable to stop yourself, you run your hand along the line of his jaw and gently cup his bearded cheek. You stroke it with your thumb, drinking in his appearance, enjoying every tiny hickey you've left on him.

You lean down and kiss him sweetly, slowly, unhurriedly, enjoying the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard. Kissing him had always been a surreal feeling for you. Sometimes you couldn't believe that you could actually press your lips against his and declare your claim to the most powerful Grisha that existed.

You feel him start to wake up as the kiss continues. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly by the waist, rolling you so you're straddling him as he kisses you passionately, hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, feeling his manhood press against you as if last night hadn't worn him out.

You run your hands over his chest and slowly settle yourself on him. You sigh as the head of his cock slowly opens your soaked walls. It feels so good and so damn full, as you settle yourself completely on him, as you become one. You bite your lip and hold your breath as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you tightly, digging his fingers into your back.

"Y/N..." He murmurs into your ear and kisses his lobe. You sigh, feeling him perfectly fill every little space of you.

"Morning." You gasp as he pushes you onto your back, hovering over you. He sucks hickies on your neck, mumbling quiet good mornings against your skin as he lazily thrusts into you.

You wriggle and moan beneath him, trying to press yourself as close to him as you can. There’s no space between you as he claims you with every thrust, destroying you for any other man. You sigh as he presses his lips to yours, kissing you possessively, stealing your breath with each deep, hard thrust into you.

He trails his kisses down your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he caresses your lips. You moan his name loudly as he suddenly sucks onto your breast.

He smiles evilly against your skin. Aleksander revels in the way you dig your nails into his shoulders as he works tirelessly to please you. He loved seeing you like this. Hair tousled against his black sheets, eyes closed from the rush of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet moan of his name when all you could think about was him. That was when you felt truly his. And it was a pleasant change for him to know that someone belonged to him, that he owned someone. It was just a shame he couldn't claim you in the sunlight as well.

A sudden movement in the war room makes you both freeze. Aleksander stares at his bedroom door and instinctively raises his shadows, causing them to wrap around the two of you defensively.

"General, we got a report from the west border with Fjerda..." Fedyor's voice trails off in the realization as the heartrender realizes he hears two heartbeats in Darkling's bedroom. Two fast heartbeats. "I... um... should I come later?"

"Preferably." Your lover responds, still on his guard.

You listen for Fedyor's footsteps and sigh in relief as he walks away. You laugh uncontrollably, which earns a soft chuckle from Aleksander. His heart heats up as he watches fondly as you laugh beneath him at the absurdity of the situation.

"Oh my dear saints. He's going to be so determined to find out who you're hiding under the sheets."

"Yes... probably." He replies. You frown thoughtfully, but you quickly distract yourself when he moves again. You moan, biting your lower lip and digging your fingers into his arm as he reaches deep, hitting that weak spot inside you that sends tingles throughout your body. "But you'll manage, right, milaya?"

You nodded, unable to utter any coherent sounds. He smiles pure evil and continues to pound into you at a punishing, rapid pace. You bite your lip, almost drawing blood as you try not to moan his name too loudly in the darkness of his chambers.

Yep... you definitely loved your stolen mornings with him.

A few hours later, you smile to yourself as you pack your things. Due to suspicious activity by the Fjerdans on the border, Aleksander decided to go and see for himself what was going on. You were supposed to be on the lookout for Morozova's stag.

Despite the sudden events of today, you couldn't just forget about the morning spent with him. The thought of it made you blush, and a smile appeared on your lips. Lost in thoughts about the shadow summoner, you didn't even register when Zoya entered your room with a packed backpack.

"Oh saints, you had sex!" You jump suddenly at her excited squeal and stare at her like a deer caught in the light of a hunter's torch.

"I beg you pardon?"

"You had sex! You're glowing, relaxed, and oh my, you're blushing like a teenager! Who's that? Do I know him? Handsome? What order is he from? Or maybe it is she?" She bombards you with excited questions. You hide your face in your hands, not wanting to watch her wicked smile as she settles on your bed, staring at you intently.

"I... have no idea what are you talking about."

Before you can somehow defend yourself from her accusations, you are interrupted by a knock on your door. Fedyor enters with his things, all excited, with Ivan hot on his heels.

"Y/N, you won't believe it! He really does have someone! You have to tell me if you saw anyone in the corridors leading to his quarters last night when you were leaving his chambers after the night briefing. Remember every detail, I need to know everything."

"Y/N had sex with some mysterious lover." Zoya briefs Fedyor before either of you can add anything to the man's long rant.

Ivan raises a surprised eyebrow at you, silently analysing the information in his head. You see the gears turning in his head, and as he connects the dots—as Alexander's closest confidant after you—he blushes. You shake your head slightly, staring at him as Fedyor and Zoya exchange gossip. He swallows and nods silently. You note it as a problem for later and turn your gaze to the two excitedly gossiping Grisha.

"I can't believe it! You too?! Who is it?! With your busy schedule with Kirigan, I didn't think I'd have time to find anyone, but here you are. Is it that handsome inferni? The one who's going on the mission with us and has been hanging around you for ages?"

"I… would prefer to keep my… boyfriend's privacy for now. It's a quite new thing, we're… testing if we're a good fit." You stammer, explaining yourself, knowing full well that you can't deny these two for long. They would have known the truth anyway. You're terrified of the moment when they realize that you and Aleksander are something more.

"Oh, I understand that perfectly. Ivan and I went through the same thing, right, honey?"

"Yeah..." Ivan mumbles thoughtfully and continues to stare at you in shock. However, Fedyor is too lost in his conspiracy theory to pay attention to his significant other's behavior. For which you silently thank the saints above.

Eventually, you all gather up and head for the stables. Zoya and Fedyor mumble something to each other in the front, and you and Ivan follow. You decide that this is a good time to approach him and ask for discretion.

"You know, don't you?" Ivan stares at you for a moment, then nods silently. You swallow hard, nervously playing with the sleeve of your kefta. “Listen… can we keep this between us? I… I doubt it’s a good idea to talk about all this now. He doesn't need to have such rumours running about us in the Little Palace."

Ivan nods at you, agreeing with your words. But you can see that something is bothering him. For a moment he grits his teeth in silence, but then he mumbles under his breath, barely audible.

"He seems… less tense. Less worried." You blush along with him. You clear your throat and turn your gaze to the walls of the corridors you pass, thinking of a… neutral response to his observation.

"I... I guess he is."

"I think… I want to say… it's good that he has you." You look at him in surprise, almost tripping on the exit steps as he says this. The blush deepens on your cheeks as you think about what he told you. "Everyone needs their own Fedyor."

You smile, seeing his gaze on his other half. And perhaps for the first time you see that they actually fit together, and Ivan is worthy of your best friend. You wonder involuntarily if Aleksander looks at you like that when you don't see...

"Yeah... I think you are right. Thank you, Ivan. You are a good friend. For both of us. Well, mostly to him." You say, referring to Aleksander. Ivan nods in silent agreement.

This strange harmony between you seems to be going strong. You are united by one goal. The good of your shadow summoner.

The four of you reach the stables. Alexei - the inferni, who as Fedyor mentioned was supposed to join your mission and had a crush on you quite openly, runs up to you quickly. But your eyes and attention are focused only on the general. Or rather, on the general and his sun summoner, as other Grishas maliciously called it.

Your blood boils, a strange feeling of jealousy hits you like a hunter's shotgun hits an animal, and you can't even do anything about it as Alina is clearly flirting with him. All you can do is stand there and try to swallow the bile of jealousy with dignity as Alina adjusts the collar of Aleksander's kefta. He somehow senses your burning gaze on him, but you quickly turn away and mount your horse without even waiting for his reaction.

He's lucky you're not official yet. And that it'll be hours before you can calm down before you can talk to him in private. But you're starting to understand why keeping your relationship a secret no longer works for the Black General. Especially when you see the way his jaw clenches when you laugh at some joke of Alexei's, causing the young inferni to give you lovey-dovey puppy eyes, to which you wink back.

You may have been cruel, but the knowledge that your lover was as jealous of you as you were of him calmed you down a bit and lifted your spirits. And if by any chance you made sure that Alina rode with you and away from Aleksander during the journey, that wasn't intentional at all. Not at all.

"So... Ivan knows." Aleksander comments as you lay in his tent, wrapped in his arms.

Ivan stood guard over your small camp while the rest slept. You decided to take the opportunity to sneak in on your shadow summoner to share the revelation. And maybe just a little to steal a few kisses and hugs from him.

"Indeed." You mumble, playing with his fingers that are slowly dripping shadows.

You bring one of his fingertips to your lips and press a small kiss there, which makes Aleksander's heart melt even more for you. He tightens his grip around you and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head before resting his bearded cheek on it with a small sigh.

"Well... sonner or later Fedyor will figure it out too. It's just the matter of time."

"Maybe... that's why I want to enjoy you in privacy for as long as I can." You prop yourself up on your elbow and lean in to steal a quick kiss. You pull away from him with a smile, but you frown, not finding any of the malice in his eyes that he would normally have at this gesture. Something was wrong.

"Y/N... Don't you think that's enough? We've been going around each other for a long time. I think the rest should know about us." A cold shiver runs through you at his words.

You try to control your heartbeat, but you know perfectly well that you are no longer able to hide your emotions from him so well. He knew you as well as you knew him.

He knew that you were not exactly keen on making your relationship public. That is why you cannot lie and pretend that it is not so. You have to convince him to change his mind somehow... but how?

"But it's so sexy to have you all to myself, a secret from everyone. Don't you love the thrill every time we sneak around each other for a kiss or something more?"

"I like that. But I don't like that I can't hold your hand outside the four walls of our chambers. I don't like that I can't go up to you and kiss you when you look so lovely after training with Fedyor or Zoya. I don't like that I have to watch others flirt with you and touch what's mine. I don't like that I can't make your cheeks blush in front of others. I don't like that I can't look at you for as long as I want without suspicion. I don't like that I can't play with your hair during particularly boring council meetings. I don't like that I have to hide the fact that I love you."

His confession hits you harder than any punch Baghra had ever given you during training. You swallow hard and kneel down next to him, watching him carefully as you try to process what he’d just told you.

"You... love me?"

"I do. And if it is not enough for you to make it public... I don't know if I can go on like this anymore. I don't know if I can keep my trembling hands from reaching for you in the light of day, not just in the darkness of night or my shadows. I need more. I need all of you, Y/N."

You stare at him, utterly shocked by his sudden confession. His words both overwhelm you and warm your heart, but it's not enough to quell the panic rising within you.

Because as much as you want to be his, as much as you want him to be yours, you know that the members of the Second Army won't look so... favourably on your romance. Besides the public opinion... you're afraid that once the thrill of excitement and mystery wears off, Aleksander's feelings for you will fade dramatically and he'll realise that you're not a good match at all and that Alina would be a better choice for him.

"I... it's hard for me... to give you an answer now." You mumble, watching anxiously as his brow furrows, face darkening as he retreats back into his shell and tries to hide his true emotions from you.

"I thought it should be easy. You either want me or not."

"I want you." You respond quickly, reaching out for his arm in panic and holding it in a tight, almost bruising grip. The desperation on your face makes Aleksander sigh with relief inside. You cared. That was for sure. So why do you hesitate for so long and postpone the inevitable?

"Then why do you insist on keeping us hidden?"

You don't answer. You know he'll think your uncertainty about his feelings is baseless and pointless. You think it's stupid. But you can't escape the overwhelming feeling that the moment your romance stops being a tightrope, his feelings for you will burn out like a candle. And you really wanted to keep him by your side.

Your silence, however, is not what he wants. Or something that could help you stop him. He nods silently and stands up from your makeshift bed of blankets.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside. I'll take guard duty for Ivan." He replies emotionlessly. You swallow nervously and sit up, following him with your eyes as he puts on his black coat as he is giving you a cold arm.

"Aleksander." You whisper with a pained tone in your voice. He stops for a moment and gives you a long, haunted look. He sighs and shakes his head at your silence and walks out of the tent, leaving you alone.

The lump in your throat grows and tears well up in your eyes. You close your eyelids and lift your head, taking a few calming breaths. You fucked this up. Not for the first time, but this time you really hoped you wouldn't get cold feet and that you'd somehow stifle that little voice in your head that had always questioned your worth.

Because you felt you weren't worthy of Aleksander. Yet for some twisted reason he thought you were perfect for him. Maybe this time you should take a chance and trust him? Trust that at the end of the day he'll decide you're enough and that you don't have to be a Sun Summoner to be his equal?

After a while, you stand up unsteadily and walk to the tent flap. You glance through it and freeze when you see Alina and Aleksander talking quietly by the fire. She says something to him and puts her hand on his shoulder, but instead of moving away from her touch, he seems to cling to her and answers her with one of those smiles that make your knees weak. You feel a painful stab in your heart. As if scalded, you jump away from the tent flap and lie back down in the pile of blankets.

You bury your nose in the material that has soaked in the scent of the Shadow Summoner and close your eyes as tears freely flow down your cheek and soak into the black fur. A hundred dark thoughts, doubts, and different scenarios in which Aleksander leaves you for Alina go through your head, and to be completely honest, you don't blame him. She was a real sun. How could you possibly compare to her? You were stupid and naive to think that he would stick to you when he could have her.

The only comfort you find is that at the end of your crying, when you had no more tears to shed and were only shaking uncontrollably, Alexander came back. He came back and practically silently laid down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest, burying his nose in your hair. He sighed quietly and ran his thumb over your waist, holding you so tightly as if you were the most important thing in his life, and he couldn't let you slip through his fingers.

You don't make a move, don't give any sign that you're awake. You spend the rest of the night half-awake as you try to memorize the way Aleksander holds you, the way he still wants to come back to your bed at night.

Because something tells you that this state of affairs won't last long.

"Just as I thought, you look adorable even after a week of horseback riding and searching for a group of Drüskelle." Alexei compliments you as you and Zoya return to camp after scouting. You let out an uncontrollable laugh at this, amused by the absurdity of his flirting, and join the group sitting around the campfire.

"It's a pity I can't say the same about you." You say spitefully and accept from Aleksander, who is sitting next to you, a stick with a fish that Fedyor and Alina had caught earlier. Aleksander takes another stick with a raw fish and starts roasting it again. Everyone else laughs at your remark, even Alexei.

"You'll see, one day I will melt your cold heart." You roll your eyes at this. Zoya, sitting next to you, hits your arm in amusement.

"Come on, Y/N. Tell us about this secret lover of yours. Maybe it will cool Alexei's ardor."

Fedyor perks up at Zoya's words and nods enthusiastically, while Aleksander, sitting next to you, tenses slightly. You see that his knuckles have been clenching around the stick since Alexei began his flirtation with you. You fear his further reaction to this conversation, which is heading in a rather dangerous direction.

"You have a lover?! Who beat me to it?" Everyone around you laughs at the exaggeratedly hurt tone of Inferni's voice and the way he dramatically aimed his fishing rod at you. You smile involuntarily and shake your head, trying your best to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks.

"Thanks for your concern, or rather curiosity, but my lover and I would rather keep our privacy. Besides, I can't talk about him left and right without his consent."

"Maybe it wouldn't bother him at all?" Aleksander comments, not looking at you, instead focussing his attention on the fish in the fire. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest when he won't even look at you. The bitter feeling of guilt resurfaces within you, and you wonder how the hell you're supposed to fix what you've broken.

"Exactly! I don't care what you want, I wanna meet this guy who is the best sex you've ever had!" Zoya comments, practically making you choke on your own saliva and freeze in embarrassment.

Everyone around the fire is laughing at this and asking you snide questions about your mystery lover's… prowess. You glance briefly at Alexander and almost punch him in the arm when a smug, dark smile appears on his face. And from the mischievous glint in his eyes, you know he'll only put the final nail in the coffin of your embarrassment.

"The best sex you've ever had, you say?" He asks, amused, raising an eyebrow at you. You bite your lower lip and slam your shoulder into his, almost causing him to lose his balance and fall over the log. He laughs at your feeble attempt at attacking him.

"Oh, piss off." You snap at him but he just reaches over and ruffles your hair with his hand. It's only the deafening silence around you that makes you realize you've done something… wrong.

Everyone stares at Aleksander in shock, as if waiting for him to yell at you for overstepping his bounds, but he doesn't. You see genuine shock and surprise on their faces. Before your general can say anything, you take over, trying to save the day.

"What? Haven't you ever seen two good friends banter?" You sneer at them and nod at their sticks. "Your food will burn if you sit there with your mouths open and stare at us much longer."

Somehow your words disenchant them. They go back to their usual joking, teasing demeanour, and the camp buzzes with their conversations again. You glance at Aleksander, and you can see from his face that he doesn't like the way you've handled this. You know this was the perfect opportunity to admit you're together, but after what you saw last night—the way he acted with Alina—you got too scared to tell them. If they all didn't know you were together, maybe his inevitable departure would hurt less?

You flinch as your secret lover sitting next to you suddenly takes the stick with the fish out of your hands.

"You'll burn it if you stay in your tangled thoughts any longer." He grumbles and takes the fish off the stick. You see he's completely abandoned his in favor of preparing your meal. You nod with a smile as he hands you a slice of bread and seasons the fish with the spices you brought with you.

Unconsciously to you, someone's eyes are watching the two of you closely.

Aleksander thrusts the food under your nose. You instinctively lean forward and bite into the offered sandwich, used to him feeding you, most often in the late hours of the night, when you both sit in the war room and spend time planning new tactics. You glance around quickly, but fortunately the others are too busy with themselves to notice. Or so you think.

"You're going to burn your own fish." You notice and take your food from him.

He's holding his stick back, and you decide to give him a bite of his before he gets his food. After all, he practically made you yours. You make sure no one notices and feed Alexander. He hums and brushes his lips against your fingertips before licking them teasingly. You sigh and punch him in the arm, to which he just grins wolfishly at you and winks.

You feel warm just from your playful exchange. And as the darkness grows deeper, you reach for Aleksander's hand and hold it tightly, shielding it with the hem of your coat. You smooth your thumb over the back of his hand, laughing at the stories Zoya tells. Aleksander seems much less tense, and a little satisfied, when you hold his hand tightly in yours.

And while you think no one has noticed, they have. Or at least one of them has.

At some point, Aleksander gives you his coat, insisting in a quiet conversation between you that you'll freeze and get sick if you don't take it and that he'll be fine because he's survived winters much worse than this one, and with much thinner clothing.

Your heart aches that he's had such an experience, but for the sake of peace, you take the black coat from him. You blush when he whispers that when he gets back, he'll make sure David makes you one that matches his, so everyone knows you're his.

And when he presses his lips to your forehead to check that your body temperature isn't too low for his liking, Fedyor awkwardly reveals that he's been watching you.

"Saints, Fedyor!" Alina squeaks in panic as the heartrender somehow loses his balance on the log and almost falls into the fire.

He hadn't leaned any closer to hear what you were whispering, and he hadn't nearly fallen into the fire in shock when he was the only one to notice their general's affectionate treatment of you. Not at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him worriedly and kneel down next to him.

Fedyor swallows, trying hard not to show that he noticed the way Kirigan's gaze softens when he looks at you. He was such an idiot. How could he not have noticed that before?

"Yeah... yeah, I am fine. I should probably just go to sleep. Ivan?" Fedyor calls his beloved.

He helps him up and leads him to their tent. Before he can ask even one question about his well-being, Fedyor blurts out:

"Did you notice that Y/N and general are... very close?" Ivan at first seems not to react to his words. Fedyor only realises, through the very slight acceleration of his heartbeat, that perhaps his partner knows something more about... the unexpected connection between his best friend and the Black General. "Ivan... do you know what I think you know?"

"What do you think you know?" Ivan clears his throat awkwardly as they both enter their tent.

"Oh saints, you know right?! How long?! Was it that obvious?!"

Fedyor's mind flashes back to a million moments when your feelings for each other were painfully obvious. He remembers how Kirigan would let you playfully tease him, how he would always make sure you weren't overworking yourself and were eating the right amount of meals, and how he would look after your well-being. Hell, the general even delayed your trip to the fold because you were sick with a cold from your recent trip to Kertch! And he had behaved like a jilted, angry, resentful lover during those months! It was so painfully obvious that Kirigan was head over heels in love with you... but were you? Or was it just a passing fling? Fedyor had to know more.

"That's why we shouldn't get involved and let them decide for themselves… Fedyor, honey, where are you going?" Ivan asks confused as his other half runs out of the tent.

Fedyor throws a quick see you later over his shoulder and runs to your tent hoping to find you there so he can have a serious talk with you.

And fortunately he succeeds.

"You told Ivan, and you didn't tell me?! I am your best friend!" Fedyor shouts at the entrance to your tent. You stare at him, holding the report the falcon just delivered to you in your hands, as you are trying to understand what he means. You blush as you realise what he could be so angry about.

"I… since when did you…"

"Oh please. You've obviously been like this the whole time. I'm a fool for not making the connection. It's literally written all over his face that he loves you. What about you?" Fedyor sits on your blankets. Your palms are sweating and you put the reports on the ground, wondering how the hell you're going to get out of this situation now.

"I… it's complicated."

"Love is quite complicated. Maybe that's why you gave Alina a deadly look a few days ago when she was practicing her powers with the general? And you snapped at her, giving her a completely traumatic tantrum when she lost her sword?"

"I… it wasn't intentional and you know it." You mumble, blushing even more, but this time with embarrassment.

"It's a simple question Y/N. You either feel it or you don't. And from what I see, you probably also… reciprocate. Although it's clear that he fell much harder."

"You think?" You ask with a smirk, unable to help yourself at his comment. Fedyor nods and stands up. He walks over to the shadow and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Yes. And believe me, I don't blame him. If I didn't play for the same team, or didn't have similar tastes as you, it would be really hard for me not to fall in love with you."

"Yeah, I know. We'd be a great couple if you weren't gay." You laugh at him and pull him into a hug. "But don't tell Ivan or Kirigan that."

"Sure. We don't want to upset our grumps, do we?"

Your laughter is the first thing Aleksander hears as he approaches your tent. He opens the flap with one finger and sees you standing in Fedyor's arms, laughing. A cry of jealousy and a sudden need to take you in his arms and hide you from the other man pierce his mind for a moment, but he calms down, reminding himself that Fedyor... is no threat to him. At least not romantically.

"Can I interrupt?" He asks and goes inside. You step away from Fedyor and nod at him.

Fedyor nods at him and leaves, throwing you a mischievous wink over his shoulder. Alexander notices this and connects the dots rather quickly. He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. He plants a kiss on your forehead, then rests his chin on your shoulder.

"So I guess he knows?"

His hot whisper against your ear makes you shiver. You burrow your face into his chest, nuzzling his neck as you wrap your arms around him in an equally tight embrace. Maybe Fedyor is right? Maybe when you know… you just know?

"Yeah... At this rate soon the entire Little Palace will know."

"Do you mind?" He asks uncertainly, expecting his words to hang in the air and for it to take you a while to respond with another excuse.

But you decide to bet on the truth. Show him all your cards and the same vulnerability he has for you. It was going to be everything or nothing and you knew you couldn't put it off for long. Not if you didn't want to lose him.

"Partly. I... I am afraid that once it will stop being a secret affair you will... loose your interest in me. I mean... look at me. I am not Alina." You laugh nervously and try to hide your face in his black kefta. Aleksander is not having that. He gently takes your middle and forces you to look into his dark, beautiful eyes.

"I don't want you to be Alina. I don't want you to be anything else but you, Y/N. I love you as you are. Heartrender, healer, sun summoner, inferni or whatever else, I don't care. I care about you. The way you make me feel. The way you hold me. The way you kiss me. I want you for what you really are. Not for the power you hold. Not for anything other than you."

You can barely hold back the tears in your eyes. Instead, you just nod and lean in to kiss him softly. You melt, as always, at the softness of his lips, the way he gently cups your cheeks in his hands and holds you like you're the most important thing in his life, like he can never afford to lose you. And you hope it stays that way forever.

"You damn manipulator how can I say no after that?" You gasp as the kiss ends and he rests his forehead against yours. He chuckles deeply and envelops you in the tight, warm, safe embrace of his arms.

"You can't." He mumbles against your temple and places a tender kiss there. "You are all mine. As I am yours, milaya."

And you have to say, his words have never felt more true, as he kisses you with a passion unlike any other men. You only hope that he secretly draws 'mine' on your skin for the rest of your life… not just in his shadows and the darkness of the night.

[moonstruck-poet]

The Confrontation

Pairing - Kaz Brekker x reader!

Summary - three times where the Crows find you two in suspicious situations leading them to conspire and the fourth time when they learn the truth.

Warnings - Assault, Harrassment

1. Nina

"You ready?" Nina Zenik questioned, quickly giving the surroundings a scan before pinning her eyes on you. "The minute Kaz joins us, you have to leave".

You exhaled and nodded, trying your best not to wince at the obnoxiously tight corset and trying to breathe properly. "Was this the only available option?"

"Thr most suitable option," she corrected and smirked after looking at you.

"Stop checking me out when I'm literally struggling to breathe, Zenik. Remind me why is it not you instead of me? Saints know you're better at this," you grumbled and shivered as the cold hair brushed against your off shoulder gown.

"Because unfortunately I'm the Heartrender here, aren't I?" She grinned and you glared, understanding that this was quite amusing. "Ah! There's your ticket," she nodded towards Kaz who was stumbling his way towards you, slightly out of breath.

"Here it goes," you sighed, smoothing your outfit. Somehow this simply seemed a much difficult job that gutting someone in the right place. Using a knife was just easier.

Kaz, now much closer gave you a nod, his eyes glinting as he gripped his cane tightly and you understood. You merely smiled softly before shooting Nina a wink and entered the club, your eyes immediately narrowing down on the target.

Your brain was replaying all of the tricks that your dear friend had so graciously shown. You weren't dumb of course, you knew the basics but she had a degree in flirting.

And so you braced yourself and appeared in front of the man, trying to hide a cringe when his gaze instantly swept over your physique shamelessly. A small flame of anger burned internally and you would be sure to use your favorite dagger very soon.

Meanwhile Kaz and Nina were sneakily observing from the window while also keeping an eye on the environment.

"She seems to be getting the required information," Nina exclaimed but her smile soon fell upon seeing the scene. "Oh Saints no," she whispered and Kaz, who had his back to the window whipped around.

His dark, dangerous stare found you with ease and his body tensed at your uncomfortable face that you were trying so desperately to hide.

He saw the way that man pulled you closer with every passing second until you were pressed flat against him, his foul breath staining your bare shoulders as your body shook with contained fury.

His fingers skimmed your skin while his lips brushed against your cheek and all Kaz wanted to do in that moment was to stride inside and take you out of his grasp.

But he was still talking, his lips moved and so did yours. You were still trying to wrangle every little piece of information you could possibly get while also trying to keep yourself safe.

"Kaz," Nina said urgently upon seeing the malicious smile on the stranger's face. "That's enough she needs to come out".

"I can't do anything," he said bitterly. "It'll just give out our position and put everybody in danger and I cannot have that," he finished, hating every part of himself.

"I like you, sweetheart," your target whispered, his face inches away. His breath fanning you, reeking of alcohol. "I wish to see you again. Please?" He asked, his voice manipulative and he dragged his lips from your shoulder to your neck.

"Of course," you murmured back, your tone deadly which he didn't seem to notice. "You'll see me soon. Very soon indeed".

"Perfect," he grinned against your cheek before kissing the skin and you stepped back with a smile, not breaking eye contact until you exited the door.

And immediately your flirty facade shattered and your were consumed by a dark energy as you rounded the corner, your pace increasing with every step.

"Oh Saints," Nina said as soon as you reached the meeting spot. "Are you alright?"

"Of course I am," you teased, a wicked smile but Kaz wasn't fooled, not at all.

He looked at you, trying to pick up every noticeable change and he sae many. The twitch of your eyebrow, the small frown appearing on your lips which was quickly replaced with a grin and the slight shudder of your shoulders.

He didn't think of anything at all as he removed his coat. "Here," he offered, his dark brown eyes burning into yours.

"It's okay, Kaz, I'm alright-"

"-Take it," he said firmly and when you didn't move, he put it over your shoulders and you almost sighed at the warmth. His touch was so gentle, so secure, a constrast to the emotions plaguing you moments before. "Are you okay?" He asked again.

"I want to go home," was all you could reply as you looked longingly at him, hoping that your eyes were enough to convey all of your feelings. "Please".

Kaz nodded, looking down as pain struck his chest. He could handle numerous difficult situations, but when it concerned you, he was always vulnerable.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly, his voice barely heard as he scanned your face, having an intense urge to place his palm on your cheek but the mere thought made him flinch. However he remained rooted to the spot, not backing away because he knew that you needed him at the present, and he wasn't leaving you.

Someone cleared her throat and that was what made him pull away.

"Extremely sorry but we have to move," she said softly and he nodded, his jaw clenching as he gave you one last, tender look before walking away.

The two of you followed and you clutched the coat around you tightly, a small smile threatening to break out on your face as you replayed the interaction with your dearest.

Meanwhile the Grisha was observing her friends quite eagerly, her eyes switching from one to the other. She had her suspicions from the minute she saw Kaz's panic-stricken face, and then the said person lending his coat confirmed it.

She saw his face contorting in sadness upon seeing your highly uneasy figure back at the club, saw the way his fingers fidgeted constantly because he felt helpless. In conclusion, she saw him lose control.

Kaz Brekker never lost control.

She should feel guilty for using her abilities on her boss, but how could she not? When a particular heart was thudding unbelievably as soon as his eyes fell onto someone else's. The beating had only seemed to intensify when he had put his coat around your shoulders.

The trip to the Crow Club was spent in silence. Everyone's mind being occupied by very different thoughts.

"There you are!" Jesper's cheery voice snapped them from their daydream. He slowly jogged over to you, excitement evident on his features. "Want to play a round of cards?"

All you gave him was a small, forced smile. He just looked so happy and you didn't want to be that person, "Let's go then".

"You don't have to," Kaz suddenly spoke making everyone stare in surprise.

"It's fine," you replied but he still gave you that look. The one where his eyes were just a tiny bit wide, eyebrows slightly raised to wordlessly ask if you were sure.

You nodded offering him a twitch of your lips before joining Jesper, Wylan and Inej at the table, helping yourself to some bread.

Nina had of course watched this soundless interaction quite seriously, and now she had some very interesting points that would definitely be shared with the other Crows; minus you two obviously.

"Now this seems fun," she said to herself, smirking at the way Dirtyhands had his eyes glued to you the entire time.

===============================

2. Wylan & Matthias

Having a lazy day at the barrel was something that happened once in a blue moon, because Mr Brekker made sure to always keep everyone on their toes. Today was one of those rarest days that the Crows actually had no job and so naturally they were lazing around in the club.

Jesper and Nina were gossiping, holding a small muffin in their hands as they whispered amongst themselves, probably sharing the headlines of all that had happened in the Barrel.

"You're sure? Our Kaz? Kaz Brekker losing control like that?" Jesper asked, double checking to make sure they were talking about the same person.

"Yes Jesper!" Nina sighed. "His heartbeat seemed to skyrocket the minute his eyes fell on her. I wss actually worried that he might have a cardiac arrest or something.

"Djel help me," Matthias muttered. "She's too good for him to ever say yes".

"Oh come on," Nina insisted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "They're made for each other!"

"I don't know about that but they do make quite a pair," Inej added, her face screwed up in concentration.

"There's definitely something going on," Wylan whispered, putting on his scheming face as he analysed his thoughts.

Meanwhile Nina was now feeding another round of conversation to her gossip partner who was enjoying it very much indeed.

"No way he went over to the Dime Lions!" Jesper exclaimed mid-bite, his mouth opening as he registered the statement.

"He did indeed Jes," you walked down the stairs interrupting their conversation. "Rumour had it that he was paid handsomely as well".

"Of course he was," the gunslinger snorted before shaking his head.

"Where were you?" Nina asked, her eyebrow raised in question and all four heads turned to hear your answer.

"Kaz's office," you said and sat down on one of the couch, not noticing the small smirks painted on everybody's faces.

"What's he doing in there anyway?" Inej asked, having sharpened her knives and taking yours making you shoot her a highly grateful look.

But before you could reply, the said person called from from above, "Love! Have you seen that Kerch document that I had shown you? Where did you keep it?"

Silence. Complete and utter silence followed his statement as the Crows glanced at each other, their expressions the epitome of flabbergasted.

"Check in your bottom right drawer!" You shouted unaware, standing right below the floor so your voice could be heard better. "I've kept it along with other related files".

The minute you went back to your previous seat, you felt eyes staring at every inch of your face making you suddenly look up. "What the hell?" You asked, being startled at seeing every gaze pinned towards you.

"Did he just-" Jesper began but Wylan elbowed him harshly.

"Nothing," he answered sweetly, ignoring the sharp glare thrown his way. "How about we go visit the marketplace? You said you'd show me some firing powders".

"Yeah let's go," you nodded, putting your gun in the holster and donning a black leather jacket over your shirt. "Anybody need anything? I'm not going to get you fruit loops, Jesper," you narrowed your eyes before the boy could even utter a word.

"But you told me that-"

"But you also happened to have eaten three packets yesterday. So no. Absolutely not".

Inej and Nina snickered at the banter which was surely an everyday occurence. Jesper always being the hopeless little kid and you unintentionally acting like his older sister.

The said boy was looking at you with wide eyes and a small pout and you groaned in exasperation. "Fine! I'll get you some stop looking at me like that!"

"I love you so much," he grinned and shot a wink your way.

"Whom do you love?" Kaz Brekker asked, walking down the stairs and towards him with a raised eyebrow. Everybody fell silent at his impeccable timing to arive during the most unwelcoming moments.

"Her of course!" Nina butted in, pointing towards you before Jesper could reply and Matthiss noticed the way the Demjin's face contorted and tightened.

Kaz shot the Zemeni a small glare, not knowing himself that he was actually doing it before turning to look at you and all of the other crows saw the way his gaze softened considerably.

"Should we leave then?" Wylan broke the silence and tugged at your sleeve and your attention snapped to him.

"Yes yes let's leave," you followed him, almost at the door when Kaz called your name and you halted. "What's wrong? You need anything?" You questioned softly as he walked closer.

"You forgot this," he merely said and handed you a necklace that you had forgotten on his desk. It was only Wylan who actually saw the pendant and his mouth hung open.

You took it from his hands, fingers gently brushing against his gloved ones and he instantly felt a small amount of warmth seep into his very soul.

You lit a spark with only your touch.

You ignited him.

"Thank you," you smiled and quickly clasped it around your neck, tucking it inside your shirt so it would be hidden from privy eyes. "See you later, yeah?"

He nodded, hands tightening on his cane as he watched you leave. He never got round to telling you that he had wanted to spend this day with you and you only. But unfortunately you had plans and so he remained silent. Not wanting to be a hindrance.

He couldn't even remember the last time he had spent some quality time with you. Being too busy finding new deals and searching for missions that he couldn't properly acknowledge the best thing in his life.

When did he last take you out somewhere except for sneaking around to gather valuable information? You loved having hot chocolate late at night, when had he ever bought it for you despite knowing that the drink was your favorite?

You deserved so much better, his mind kept telling him. He couldn't even bring himself to give you the comforting touches that he knew you longed for. You never said a word but he saw it in your eyes. Whenever a plan had gone too complicated and particularly difficult, all you needed was a good embrace. But he could only ever bring himself to hold your hand. Nothing more.

And he hated himself for it. Despised every inch of his self because of his inability to provide for you. It killed him inside.

You were lovely and brave and better than anything he deserved. And he was twisted, crooked, wrong but not so broken that he couldn't pull himself together into some semblance of a man for you.

He was so lost in his thoughts that his sharp instincts failed to notice the stares that were currently burning holes in his face. "What?" He snapped and was on his way back to his bedroom when they stopped him.

"Goodness Kaz you actually look sad," Nina concluded, fighting the smirk that was quick to spread on her face.

"I have no reason to be upset," he rolled his eyes and started climbing the stairs slowly, his leg throbbing with slight pain.

"Wylan's right," Matthias said lowly. "The demjin is infatuated".

Wylan on the other hand was busy geeking over the chemicals that were presented in front of him. "How did I never know about this!" He said in delight and you chucklef at the way his eyes lighted up. "These are so much cheaper too".

"Get whatever you want," you squeezed his shoulder and he nearly jumped in excitement. "I'll just quickly go and get something from that shop, yeah?"

He nodded and you crossed the street to enter the clothing shop, smiling to yourself upon seeing beautiful coats lining the walls.

"Can I see some black shirts and vests, please?" You requested the man who nodded and placed numerous boxes on the table. "I'll take these three," you smiled, selecting two dark grey shirts and a gorgeous black vest that you knew would suit your man well.

"Oh hey! Didn't see you coming in".

Wylan simply laughed and examined the clothes that were being folded neatly and transferred in a bag. "For you?"

"Oh no," you shook your head and paid the kruge, it was a little expensive but it's fine. You could give him a gift every now and then. "It's for Kaz".

His eyes widened in surprise just a tiny bit and his lips stretched wide as the two of you exited the store. But then he suddenly grabbed your hand and pulled you towards an artefacts shop.

"How would this look on Jesper?" He said and pointed at a hat which was exactly what the gunslinger preferred.

"Absolutely perfect".

"Hey take a look at this," he directed your attention towards a few bracelets kept neatly in a box, making sure to keep his trained on you to pick up on every little change.

Your hand instinctively flew towards a handmade one woven with black thread. It was quite simple but had an intricate design. You loved it immediately and wasted no time in purchasing the little present.

"Let's go?" You asked, almost forgetting for a moment that you weren't alone. While the boy had his arms crossed and a knowing smile on his face as he followed your lead. Having an intense conversation with himself in his head.

It was almost night when you entered the Slat again and two of the Crows were lounging in the basement itself with the exception of Inej and Nina.

"I'll be back in a few," you whispered to Matthias who nodded and you climbed up thr stairs, eagerly wanting to give Kaz the gifts you had brought.

He waited until the sound of a door closing was heard before looking at Wylan who had a cheeky grin on his face.

===============================

3. Inej & Jesper

"Look at his hand!" Matthias whispered under his breath and nudged Wylan whose eyes shot towards Kaz Brekker. And indeed, a black bracelet was clasped onto his left wrist. Not that noticeable but nowadays nothing could ever escape their sharp stare.

"I've never ever seen him wear anything synonymous to jewellery," Matthias muttered and passed the message to Nina who perked up with a bright grin, as though struck by an inspiration.

"Watch me," was all she said and the the two boys glanced ahead in apprehension as she neared your location and bumped into you quite harshly.

"Saints!" A small shout escaped your lips as you were thrown backwards onto Kaz who was right behind you.

"Goodness I'm so sorry," Nina immediately apologised, not being sorry in the least as she rather scanned the couple's reaction.

Your back was pressed against Kaz's chest while his gloved hand, the one wearing a bracelet was wrapped securely around your waist, holding you against him. You placed your palm on top of his in reassurance, and your heart started taking up its pace.

"You okay?" He murmured in your ear and helped you stand up straight as you nodded; and he shot a deathly glare towards the heartrender, who gave a grin and sashayed her way back to the boys.

"I'm fine, thank you for that," you whispered before returning to the documents that were scattered on the table.

"You saw that?" She joined the duo with an excited expression, her hands flapping in front of her. "He didn't even flinch at her touch! It was almost like-"

"Like he's used to it!" Wylan completed her sentence and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Usually he'll push the person off for even invading his personal space, much less someone actually falling on him," Matthias added and she agreed.

"Ghezen this is going much better than I expected. Fifty kruge that they're already together since the past few months".

"Oh yeah?" Jesper interrupted the conversation with the biggest smirk on his face as he sat down, joined by Inej who was shaking her head with a smile. "Hundred kruge says that they've been married already".

"You do know that you're horrible at betting, don't you?" Matthias asked, raising an eyebrow at the large sum.

"But I think Jes is right on this one," Inej supported him making the said person's grin widen if that was even possible.

"What's making you so sure?" Wylan asked, quite suspiciously.

"Let me ah- tell you a little something I saw," his brown eyes glinted as he recounted the miracle that he and Inej had seen.

Jesper was walking on his usual route that led him back to the Crow Club with the Wraith beside him. They had both finished their parts of the job and had met on their way home.

"You got some intel?" He asked, his eyes scanning the various treats that were covering the shelves of stalls.

"Nothing," she answered with a sigh. "It is the same. He comes in everyday sharp at 7 in the morning and leaves exactly at 5. There has been no change at all".

"I think I'm going insane," he suddenly whispered and stopped dead in his tracks making Inej tense up immediately as she looked around for any threat.

"What's wrong?"

"That- That's Kaz isn't it?" He questioned, unable to believe the words that were on their way through his mouth. "In a- a goddamn flower shop?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed lightly but her she too froze upon seeing a familiar figure standing merely a few metres away. "Saints that is Kaz!"

"Let's go," he nudged her and she hesitated, not really wanting to pry but curiosity certainly gets the better of everyone. They walked closer silently, hiding behind another store which gave them the perfect view.

And there he was, the bastard of the barrel holding a beautiful, red rose in his bare fingers. Yes, he did not have his gloves on. Something that was noticed by the two.

They saw as he paid the small amount of money and began trodding down the road, his cane held tightly in one hand and the rose was held in the other that was hidden behind his back.

"Breadcrumbs," Jesper smirked at her and she let out a laugh as the two followed their leader, becoming increasingly suspicious. They didn't have to wait for long as the person that they had expected arrived soon enough making the two Crows grin.

"Nina was right after all," Inej muttered as she watched you waving at Kaz to gain his attention and the spying people stepped closer, wanting to hear the conversation that would surely grant them something.

"Hey," they heard you whisper, sounding slightly breathless.

"Hi," Kaz replied and took a tiny step closer so that his shoes were touching yours making you bite your lip. "This is for you," he added and presented the rose, his eyes hungrily scanning yours for every little change that he itched to see.

And you rewarded him with the grin that he oh so loved. When your mouth fell open slightly in surprise before morphing slowly into a gorgeous and breathtaking smile.

"For me?" You asked despite yourself, gently taking the flower from his hand and twirling it in your fingers. "Are you sure?"

A small frown marked his face, "Of course I am. Why do you ask such a thing?"

"Is it not for someone else? Maybe a pretty girl that you're thinking of wooing to help you get whatever information that you need," you teased, your lips pressed together.

"Darling," was all he said. His voice low, deep as he stared intently into your eyes, tilting his head to look even deeper. "There is no one like you," he finished and let a small smile form on his hardened face.

Jesper who had been listening with every ounce of concentration had to slap his palm over his mouth to prevent a squeal from escaping his feeble clutches. It was only for Inej roughly smacking his arm and dragging him away that he managed to not give away their position.

"Hence proved," he concluded his story with his arms extended to the present crowd who were utterly and completely shocked.

"No way that actually happened," Matthias grumbled, muttering to himself while Nina looked like she'd just received all of the available waffles for free.

"I'm a genius," she laughed heartily and chugged down a shot of whiskey in celebration of her matchmaking skills.

"I'm so going to win that bet, Zenik".

"Don't count your pigeons before they're killed, Fahey. We can't be so sure that they're actually married".

"We have to ask them!" Wylan urged, sitting up straight and looking at them for their opinions.

"We will," Nina nodded firmly while the rest appeared unconvinced. "Tomorrow".

"Let's hope that we're not murdered in our beds later that night then," Jesper sighed but he too couldn't contain his excitement.

===============================

4. The Confrontation

"Kaz," Nina said in delight as soon as the man climbed down the last step.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when you're actually looking happy to see me," he retorted making her roll her eyes.

"We need to talk," Jesper elaborated making him raise an eyebrow as he took in all of his Crows minus you and Inej sitting with their arms crossed and heads held high.

"Does it concern me?"

"Of course it does that's why we're asking!"

"Saints give me the strength," he muttered under his breath before looking at the lot. "Go on then I don't have all day".

That's when Inej entered the scene, dragging you along with her and making you stand next to Kaz. "What's going on?" You questioned, heavily confused and looking around for an answer.

"We need to ask you something," Wylan answered your request.

"I gathered just as much".

"Are you going to ask or not?" Kaz growled in annoyance, his patience running thin.

"We just wanted to know-"

"I've been wanting to ask-"

"We had a feeling that-"

They all began together but not one could complete their sentence until Jesper was the one to blurt it out.

"You're married?"

Kaz and you stood still, dumbstruck before visibly relaxing and you chuckled, "That was quicker than I expected".

"I don't think four years is quick, love," Kaz responded, his lips stretching just the slightest making the crowd explode.

"FOUR YEARS?!"

"YOU TWO ARE ACTUALLY MARRIED!"

"WHEN DID YOU EVEN START DATING?!"

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU EVEN MANAGE TO PULL HER OUT OF ALL THE PEOPLE??"

"Ask him about it," was all you said and sat down on a chair with a very obvious smile adorning your pleased face. Everybody fell silent at once and you knew you had said the right thing. Nobody sensible would ever dare to question Kaz.

Jesper glanced nervously at him, "Can I atleast see your ring? Just to you know, have some confirmation?"

You laughed and pulled the necklace out from under your shirt, revealing a thin but elegant silver band encrusted with a small diamond at its center.

"K- Kaz?" Wylan asked, or rather pleaded.

To their surprise, he took off the glove of his right hand to reveal a similar ring resting beautifully against his pale fingers.

"Saints I win!" Jesper said in disbelief and stood up straight, slowly turning his head to look at Nina. "GIVE ME MY KRUGE!" And all watched as the girl slowly backed away, probably hatching an escape plan and ran swiftly with him hot on her heels.

"That was something huh?" You grinned and looked at your husband, slowly leaning over to intertwine your fingers with his.

"Quite," he huffed lightly but couldn't stay annoyed for long and alas, he too smiled. Not a particularly big one, rather a small, gentle twitch of his lips. One that was only ever displayed for you.

His eyes held the entire universe as he admired you from the side, looking at you as if you had hung those few stars that formed his constellation.

===============================

Taglist :-

@phoenix666stuff

[callsign-rogueone]

call me yours

Brennan Sorrengail x childhood friend! reader [request] words: 1.6k 🏷️: very intimate, but still sfw, set mid iron flame, you’re Mira’s bestie since childhood and grew up with her and Brennan, Bren is touch starved and down atrociously bad (we love pathetic men in this house!) if you're familiar with the grishaverse, you kinda have the powers of a heartrender — can sense and control others’ vital signs. 

The third floor, at the end of the hall, they’d told you, and surely enough, there he is: Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh, seated at a desk in what appears to be his office. He looks exactly how you always picture him in memories and dreams — just older, his face slightly hardened, the light scruff on his jaw making him look less boyish, and more like the army commander he’s become in the years you’ve been apart.

He still has the same stiff posture as he examines a roll of parchment, that little crease of concentration between his eyebrows… You could stand here all night, just soaking up the sight, but that still wouldn’t be enough. And now that you’re finally reunited, your twenty-year-old self’s prayers answered…

You gather up the courage to knock on the doorframe.

He looks up from his papers, humming lazily, and then his heart nearly stops at the sight of you. There’s a flurry of emotion across his face before he finally speaks. “I just got my nose fixed, so I’d prefer it if you hit me somewhere else,” he says by way of greeting, giving you a pained smile.

You return it. “You know I could never hurt you, Bren— I probably shouldn’t be calling you Brennan anymore, should I?”

“Please. Call me anything but Lieutenant Colonel.”

You smile. “Brennan it is. And I’m really sorry about that, by the way. She never left the ‘anger’ stage.”

“That’s fair. I probably wouldn’t have, either.”

You finally step forward, entering the office and taking a look around. “Nice digs.”

He’s definitely going to need something stronger than his long-since-abandoned mug of tea if this conversation is going to last much longer. “Whiskey?”

That same mischievous grin that he remembers splits your face. “Always.”

He pushes up from his chair, taking a half-full bottle out of the cabinet along with two glasses.

“So, fill me in on this new life of yours,” you prod, shrugging off your jacket and draping it over the back of your chair before settling in. “Wife? Kids?”

“Nope. Just Marbh.”

You remember hearing that Marbh wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, either. “Must be lonely.”

He shrugs. “Staying busy helps. What about you, Major? You have a husband hidden away somewhere?”

You roll your eyes at his use of your rank, flashing him your left hand — no wedding ring. “No, I do not. And I hate that title. They gave it to me as an apology, not because I earned it.”

He hands you a glass, frowning. “I’ve never known the Navarrian military to apologize. What for?”

“For almost killing me and my entire company — sending us right into a drift of gryphons. I let them take me so that everyone else could escape. But that’s what all the torture training was for, right?” you ask over the rim of your glass.

He doesn’t laugh. “When was that?” 

The whiskey burns its way down your throat, and you sigh in relief — this is exactly what you needed after the fifteen hour flight from Montserrat. “A few months ago. Mira saved my sorry ass. Broke protocol to come get me, because-”

“—Navarre doesn’t negotiate for hostages,” he finishes for you. “I’m so sorry, kid.”

You mime taking a knife to the heart, twisting it and pulling it back out for dramatic effect. “Kid? And here I thought I had a chance.”

Something shifts in his body language, in his eyes, in the air of the room. “What do you mean by that?” he asks, deathly quiet.

“You know what I mean,” you reply, your eyes not leaving his for a second, even as you take another sip.

“I need to hear you say it.”

You rise from the chair and set down your glass, resting your palms on the edge of his desk and leaning forward slightly — it’s giant, so you’re still two feet away, but you’ve definitely crossed the threshold of his personal space, ignored the rigid line that’s supposed to separate the great Lieutenant Colonel from the rest of his army. It has the intended effect: his gaze immediately falls to the exposed curve of your shoulders and the green of your relic that spreads over your bicep, dipping down to the low neckline of the tank top you’re wearing before he looks back at your face, his cheeks sufficiently reddened.

“Surely you know I’ve always had a little puppy crush on you, Bren, ever since Mira and I met. You always saw me as your little sister’s tagalong friend, but I had this idea that once I graduated from Basgiath, you’d see me as a woman, a dragon rider… I know you can put the rest together yourself. You’ve always been too smart for your own good.” This punctuated with a cunning smile that makes him squirm a little.

“You are certainly both of those things now,” he says carefully, adjusting a stack of papers on the desk. He’s sweating, his blood pressure elevated, his breathing shallow… but he’s not going to break. 

You give him a sad smile. “But you’re too good of a guy, too proper of a Lieutenant Colonel to do anything about it now. I promise I won’t let it get in the way of our professional relationship. I understand. We do have a war to wage, after all. In another life, maybe.”

“In this life.”

Oh? 

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you sure about that, Lieutenant Colonel?”

“I thought I told you not to call me that,” he tries, but it comes out much weaker than he’d intended.

You round the corner of the desk, stepping forward. You’re definitely in his space now. “What do you want me to call you?”

It takes him a moment to gather the courage. “Yours.” 

You blink at him.

“Call me yours,” he rasps. “I always have been.”

You can’t contain the smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” It’s a weak whisper, a quiet plea for you to claim him after all these years. 

You reach out, cradling his jaw in a soft hand. He shivers at the touch, but leans into the warmth of your palm nonetheless, looking up at you with stars in those gorgeous amber eyes. “I would love nothing more than to call you mine, Brennan Sorrengail.” 

If it’s the admission, the touch, or you saying his name — his real name — that makes his heart flutter, you’ll never know.

“When she told me that you were here, that you were alive… all I could think about was that I wasn’t going to miss my chance with you again.” You take another step closer, standing between his legs, and guide him into a gentle embrace, your thumb brushing over his cheek tenderly. You slide your other hand up to the back of his neck, working your fingers through his hair, and he melts, nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder like a contented housecat. 

You hadn’t even used your signet, but he’s already falling asleep on you. That’s good. He probably hasn’t slept well in a while, if the dark circles under his eyes are any indicator. 

You start to pull back, but his eyes fly back open, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of your shirt. “Shh,” you soothe, reaching out with a tendril of your power, and he calms near immediately. “It’s okay, sweet boy. I’m not going anywhere.”

He hasn’t been a boy in years — since before he started at Basgiath — but he’d let you call him anything as long as you said it in that soft voice, and looked at him with such adoration, touched him so gently… nobody’s held him like this since he was a child.

You continue stroking his hair, speaking softly. “I was just gonna suggest that we both get some sleep. In a real bed.”

He considers it for a moment, and then with a shaking exhale, slowly lets go of you. You take a cautious step back, but his heartbeat remains steady. Good. You extend a hand to him, and he takes it silently, interlacing his fingers with yours as he rises from his office chair, wincing at the ache in his back and shoulders.

The hallways aren’t as deserted as you’d thought they’d be at this hour, but none of the cadets or officers bat an eye at the sight of the two of you holding hands. He doesn’t say a word as he leads you across the fortress, stopping in front of what has to be the door to his room. It’s incredibly close to yours, actually -- they’d given the higher ranking officers the nicer guest rooms, and put all the cadets in the barracks.

“Brennan,” you say softly, “is it okay if I go get some clean clothes, and take a shower first? I promise I’ll be quick.”

He blinks at you once, twice, realizing what you mean -- you’d thought you’d be spending the night. 

You see it dawn on him, and you continue before he can say anything, a little embarrassed. “If you want me to. I know that’s… a lot.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’d like that.”

You give him a soft smile, squeezing his hand gently before you let go of it. “Ten minutes, tops.”

He must have done the same, because when he opens the door for you, his hair looks damp, slightly mussed from having a towel rubbed over it. 

Neither of you say anything as you climb into his bed, gravitating toward each other like magnets. You fit together well, his head tucked into your shoulder and his arm around your waist, your legs intertwined. You can feel his heartbeat slowing, his breaths deepening… 

For the first time since he died, it takes him less than two minutes to fall asleep.

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

Look, this story absolutely shattered me reading it today. Wrecked. Decimated. All those tags? Dial them up to 100, situate them in an incredibly realistic depiction of the absolute nihilistic horrific existence that life in the TLOU-verse would be like, make the term "angst" feel woefully inadequate, and include a passage that had me (and I say this with utmost seriousness) literally sobbing from how fucking sad it was, and that is this fic in a nutshell, for me. GOD I wanted something like this today, sometimes you just want to let yourself wallow in bleak unrelenting heart-stomping misery and violence and THIS STORY FITS THE BILL HOLY SHIT. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

I am obsessed with having Frankie in the TLOU world, and especially how it's post-fuck-up Frankie, it's changed-and-trying-to-do-better Frankie…the way he's able to buoy up and support someone else after hitting rock bottom personally? There's also something about how the horrors Frankie saw in his Triple Frontier-esque earlier life pale in comparison to the depth of horrors of post-outbreak TLOU? I love the idea of him in this world!

The horrors this reader has gone through with Frankie and those babies is almost unfathomable, and what absolutely crushed my heart was when my suspicions that she was hallucinating or dreaming Frankie was confirmed…how it's clear that this is the coping mechanism her brain has come up with to deal with almost incomprehensible trauma? I could just feel the sheer weight of her complicated grief, of reading what she went through and how she copes with it, the absolutely bleak unfairness of it all, the gravity and pain and crippling longing of it weighed me down so much I practically wanted to sink down into the ground from the black depths of it, I haven't read something that's done that in a while. That scene when Frankie "visits" her for the last time, is one of the most gutwrenchingly-sad things I've read in a long, long time. Literal sobbing, in fact I keep tearing up just thinking of that scene and what led up to it from her nights before.

This story is how I imagine life in the post-outbreak TLOU world would actually be like, the exhaustion, the lack of respite, the harrowing and routine violence and basest human tendencies all that is known anymore, the stomping out of everyone's humanity and hope leaving everyone shells of their former selves, the soul-crushing depression and lack of a will to live, everything, literally everything, just…shattered.

Your Joel is a violent, true-to-life Joel to me, so visceral and realistic, in a way I've rarely read in TLOU fic before. You nailed his "voice", and the dialogue for everyone is pitch perfect. And little details you included throughout make the world so real, so lived in, so awful.

Joel and the reader as these two "equally broken" people who've found a way to connect in that pain? My goodness, I sat here and thought for a long while about what happened after the end of this story. That tiny little glimmer of hope at the end?!

That's the best I can do in trying to word how I feel after having read this, there's more rattling around in my brain but I don't know how to articulate it--thank you again!

When It All Falls Down [a Frankie/Joel x f!reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us / Triple Frontier

Ship: Joel Miller x you/reader, Frankie Morales x you/reader (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, major angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Grief/Mourning, Death of a loved one, Assault, Blood and Injury, executions, Implied Suicide Attempt, Miscarriage, Loss, frankie and joel are both soft but in very different ways, cunnilingus, fellatio, piv sex, bad sex good sex all is sex, choking, pls tell me if I missed anything this one is a lot.

Summary: You live in the Boston QZ, trying to get by, when you become involved with a certain Joel Miller.

Words: 14,098 (oops)

A/N: Holy cow I started writing this almost six months ago when the show started! It was meant to be a very different kind of story but as it dragged on, it changed. Now I'm just happy to have finished it. I don't know if this fic is a dead dove but I just want you guys to be safe. Be aware that it's pretty heavy and there is definitely not a super comforting happy ending. But there is a certain kind of closure. Read at your own risk and let me know if I missed a warning.

Darkness lies thick around you when you stumble into the tiny apartment that is your so-called home. Exhausted yet wired, you take your time washing, and having a drink, knowing you can't fall asleep anyway until you take the two pills you got from the dealer with the salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He has an aura of danger around him, but you've never felt afraid so far. You carry an assault rifle, after all. He's surely armed as well but yours is fully visible, and your fatigues and ravaged face will let surely let him know that you are a force to be reckoned with.

Eventually, you find yourself drawn towards the narrow bed. You pick up the bottle of liquor that was no doubt made in a toilet, shake out the precious pills from a small plastic bag in your breast pocket, and down them with some generous gulps of the piss-colored liquid. It burns its way down your throat, warms your belly, and with a deep sigh, your collapse on the bed. As you look up at the ceiling, you see the flaking paint dance before your eyes, not from the drugs and the alcohol, but from sheer exhaustion. You turn onto your side and press your eyes shut and make your brain go blank.

Almost asleep, you hear the front door open and close. Too groggy to care about making sure it's not an intruder, you immediately recognize the footsteps anyway. They echo the tiredness you feel in your body, and the mattress dips heavily when your husband lies down next to you. You scoot back clumsily, longing to see him. His face is lined with the same hard years as yours is, but he has managed to preserve a glow of humanity in his kind eyes. You love that for him, and now you find yourself smiling.

"Hi," he smiles back, touching your cheek with calloused fingers.

"Hi."

"I missed you."

"I missed you."

"Are you okay?"

You nod, and a sad kind of mirth flashes by in Frankie's eyes.

"Liar."

"I feel better now that you're here."

"Me too."

You raise your hand to his cheek, mirroring his gentle caressing of your skin. His scratchy beard is growing long enough to almost cover the bald spots along his jawline, but your thumb finds them nevertheless.

"Will you shave tomorrow?" you ask, feeling an inexplicable desire to see those spots, kiss them like you used to back when the world was normal and he kept his facial hair a little tidier.

"Just so that you can point out to me that I'm unable to grow a beard?"

"That's not it at all..."

"We'll see, sweetheart. Now sleep."

You touch your forehead to his, and only then can you let yourself be dragged under by the pills.

///

The sun is beating down from a clear blue sky. Your mouth is filled with cotton, and it doesn't make it any better that the smoke from the burning bodies is somehow finding its way to your tower. The smell of burning flesh should make you gag, but it doesn't, not anymore. The smoke, however, irritates your lungs.

"Goddammit," you hear Peters, your guard partner for the day, cough behind you. "We need a big fucking fan."

"Rain would be better," you reply, looking around you, seeing nothing but blue skies.

"Rain just impregnates the smell into the clothes."

He's right, of course, but you still wouldn't mind rain. Looking around you in the guard tower, you stop when you notice movement some distance away. Frowning, you stop still and wait to see it again.

"You got something?" Peters asks, having noticed the change in your posture.

"I got something," you confirm in a mumble. He lifts his rifle to look through the scope, searching for a moment before finding it.

"That's a goner," he shakes his head as he lowers the weapon. You grab the walkie at your belt and call it in. Soon after, a trio of soldiers appear on the other side of the wall. They close in on the wandering figure and shot rings out. You watch indifferently as the figure drops where it stands. Shortly after, your walkie crackles, and the kill is confirmed.

Peters coughs again, and the day continues in the same manner.

When you're relieved of your watch, your closest superior wants to speak to you.

"FEDRA HQ is sending us more soldiers," he tells you, ”So we won't be needing you at the moment. Report at the job office."

You merely nod. There is nothing to say, and you know that you were on watch duty by necessity only. You were never a soldier, Frankie was. When the world went to shit, he taught you everything he knew, and he knew a lot. You went from never having touched a gun to a weapons expert in six months. Your sinister competence was probably the only reason you were still alive.

You relinquish your rifle, missing the heavy weight of it in your hands, and change into civilian clothes. There is no hurry to take a new job, nobody is keeping tabs on you, but you are used to keeping busy. The alternative is going back to your so-called home and spend the rest of the day doing nothing by yourself. And that is not an option.

You draw the worst number imaginable: arrival clinic. The place where new arrivals either get checked for infectious diseases, or receive a lethal injection that kills them immediately. You'd much rather be burning bodies. At least those are covered, and already dead. It's a lot worse trying to avoid looking a person in their despairing eyes right before you stick a deadly needle into their arm.

It's just a job, you remind yourself as you're changing into medical scrubs and a face mask. You've done it before, so you just nod at the medical officer and start to make yourself useful. The uninfected ones have to undergo tests that you find intrusive, but you don't think about that.

A new patient is rolled in on a gurney: a young woman. She's softly sobbing, a sound which does not affect you, but then you hear the quiet whimper and realize that she's holding a swaddled baby in her arms. You stop still, stomach dropping and filling with ice.

"The baby is sick," the medical officer explains briefly, and you know what that means: there's something else ailing it, not infection. You see the officer prepare a syringe, and  know what it means: the mother is infected, and must be disposed of. Despite how revolting you find your actions, you still take the baby from the protesting mother.

"No, please, I have to hold her, she's sick, please, don't take her from me..."

You swallow hard, unwanted images flashing through your head. It becomes a little difficult to breathe as you take the baby out of the room, ignoring the mother's pleas that are turning louder and more desperate. You look down at the baby and see from its dull eyes that it is not well. Unswaddling it, you find that it is looking malnourished, and is burning up with fever. The thermometer reveals a temperature of 103.

It's a miracle this baby is still alive, but you can tell it won't be for long.

You leave it in the plastic bassinet and re-enter the procedure room, where the mother is dozing off. Her face is shining with tears. She's younger than you, maybe the same age you were when...

"The baby?" the officer asks without looking up.

"High fever. Dehydrated and malnourished," you tell him bluntly. He nods.

"Better to let it go to sleep. We don't have the resources anyway."

You don't question it, you just prepare the injection and administer it yourself. More fuel for the fire that's stinking up someone else's lungs now.

///

It's dark when you're let off your shift. On heavy feet, you drag yourself home. No interest in food or hygiene, you plop down on the threadbare couch and start to drink. For every time you raise the bottle to your lips, the sound of the crying mother is turned down a little in your head. You decide to not stop drinking until either the bottle is empty, or Frankie comes home. Luckily for your liver, Frankie arrives not long after.

Blearily, you look up at him, expecting scorn but receiving sympathy. How does he do it, how does he remain so humane?

"Rough day?" he asks quietly. You rub your neck with a joyless bark.

"Every day is rough now."

"I'll get you your pills."

He comes back with two of them, but you shake your head.

"Three," you mumble throatily. You crave oblivion tonight.

"Not with liquor."

You grunt in dissatisfaction but accept the two pills, down them with yet another gulp of toilet booze, and relinquish the bottle to Frankie. He puts it to the side table and offers you his hand.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

He holds you as the world dances, kisses your clammy forehead as he lays you down on the bed.

"I'm not up for this anymore, Frankie," you tell him quietly, speaking words that you can barely allow yourself to even think. "I'm not strong enough."

"Of course you are," your husband tells you gently, stroking the hair out of your face. "You are way stronger than I ever was. You were always the backbone of our family, my love. You suffered through all those years when I was overseas. You held everything together when I was on my coke adventure. You found the strength to forgive me and take me back."

You giggle drunkenly.

"That sounds like a kids' movie. Francisco's great coke adventure."

He scoffs. "Not a movie I'd let my kids watch."

Your mirth disappears just as fast as it came, and now your eyes fill with tears. Being reminded of kids with Frankie breaks your already shattered heart.

"She would have been fifteen now..." you start to sob, hiding your face in the lumpy pillow. Frankie sighs deeply.

"I know. I miss her too. I think about her every day."

Your body starts to shake as you remember the lifeless weight of your baby in your arms.

"I don't want to do this anymore," you break down, shaking and crying into the pillow as your hands fist into the sheets. "I'm done, I can't do it!"

Frankie watches you patiently as he softly caresses your back, letting you cry it out without saying anything. It's not your first time and it won't be your last.

When you finally fall asleep, your head aches from both the crying and the beginning of a hangover, and you have lost your voice from screaming into the pillow.

///

The days keep coming, one after the other, with never-ending relentlessness. You go to your designation at the clinic, put your work in, return home, sometimes by way of the rations office. When you run out of pills, you seek out the man who resembles a graying yet still fierce watchdog. Meeting him in a secluded backyard, you ask for the usual amount but find out that he's all out.

"When are you getting more?" you ask, fingertips tapping together in your pocket at the thought of the sleepless nights you are sure to have until you can get your hands on more drugs.

"Unclear at the moment."

"When will there be clarity?" you bark, annoyed at the non-answer. He towers above you, as if reminding you of his size.

"Do we have a problem?"

"No," you mutter, in no mood to start a fight despite your desperation. He nods in agreement.

"Good." He pauses, before adding: "Check back in a few days."

Abruptly, you spin around on your heel, and leave. On your way back to your apartment building you notice after a while that you are being followed. Slinking into a narrow passage between two buildings, you hide behind a couple of trash cans, crouching low as you pull a knife from your boot. You don't have your gun; bringing it with you to work is too risky, you would be arrested if a FEDRA agent found it on you.

The sounds of voices and heavily booted feet come closer. At least three men are talking amongst themselves about you. One voice sounds familiar: it belongs to an absolute asshole who has been on you before for working for FEDRA.

Shit. You press yourself against the cold wall, hoping they'll pass by. You have no chance of fighting them all, and you don't want to know what they'd do to you if they got their hands on you.

You are about to find out. The steps come closer, and then one of them is standing right in front of you. You slash at his legs, feeling the impact before he kicks at you, his boot hitting your arm that you managed to raise to shield your face, but the momentum brings your arm up to your face, and you're knocked down on the ground. The knife clatters somewhere next to you but you don't know where, and in the next second you're curling up on your side, gasping for air from the kick you received to your stomach.

"You fucking cunt!"

The pain is blinding but when the second kick comes, you manage to wrap your arms around the foot. Twisting your aching body, you pull your attacker down. Next thing you know, you are being battered with kicks from several feet, and you make yourself as small as possible, try to protect your head.

You are pulled up and slammed into the wall. Spitting blood, you try to focus your gaze on your assailants, but your vision is blurry and impaired by a quickly swelling eye.

"You'll regret this."

Hands close around your neck, cutting off your air supply. Panic rises in you, floods your limbs, making you kick and flail with your last ounces of strength, choked protests pressing out between your lips.

Your salvation comes not from your fighting, but the chain around your neck.

"What's this?" The grip loosens a little, fingers pluck at the chain.

"There's someone coming." Another voice warns. "Finish her off."

The rings on the chain around your neck get pulled out from underneath your shirt and you start kicking again.

"Is this gold?"

A snap, and the chain breaks. The familiar clink of the two rings in the palm of someone else's hand makes you furious.

"Give them back!" you scream, but the words only come out as hoarse whispers. You throw yourself at the shape closest to you but only fall to the hard, cold ground as the assailant side-steps your pitiful attack. You receive one last kick to your ribs before the sound of heavy boots running away thunders in your ears.

"Fuckers," you croak, fumbling to get up, but failing as your ribs and stomach hurt too much.

New footsteps close in, the accompanying crackle of walkie-talkies telling you it's probably FEDRA. You think you recognize one of the voices but by the time the agents are with you, you have lost consciousness.

///

Ten minutes is the total amount of time that you were willing to spend in the clinic after you woke up. A fractured rib and countless bruises as well as an eye swollen shut and a bleeding lip is not enough to keep you in one of the sad hospital beds. The physician shrugs and dismisses you, and when you stumble out onto the street, Peters from guard duty is waiting for you.

"Figured you wouldn't stay," he shakes his head and starts to walk alongside you.

"You don't need to escort me."

"No, I don't. But I choose to do it."

You walk in silence for a few blocks before glancing at him.

"Did you catch them?"

"Do we ever?"

You grunt, your aching head already trying to plan for how to find them yourself. You need those rings back. Gold has no worth today, not like it used to, and the rings mean nothing to anyone but you. The loss of them is like a void in your chest, and your neck feels naked without the chain.

"You okay?" Peters asks.

"Sure."

"I saw the medical officer. You don't have to come in for a couple of days."

"That was unnecessary. I need to work."

"You can barely stay on your feet."

He's right, but you're not going to give him that. Reaching your apartment building, you just tell him bye before slipping through the front door. Almost succumbing to the three flights of stairs, you eventually reach your front door. Not until you are on the other side, locking the door and sliding the deadbolt, do you allow your body to sag, the tears to rise.

The physician gave you pain pills, and you down them with alcohol, all at once. Then you drink until you pass out on the bed.

It's late morning when you wake up, head throbbing, body immovable in its soreness. You blink at the sunlight, groan and turn your face away from it.

"My poor girl."

Frankie's voice is soothing right next to your ear.

"I lost them, Frankie," you whisper, unable to open your eyes and look at him. "Our rings."

"It doesn't matter. You're alive, that's what matters."

"It matters to me."

"They're just items."

"Symbols of our love."

"I loved you before I put a ring on your finger, and I love you after it's gone."

You start to sob, each one tearing through your body like a bullet through flesh.

"I know you're hurting, baby, but you gotta keep going." Frankie's encouragement is quiet and sad: he knows how hard it is for you, how unbearably tired you are.

"You can do it." He wraps his arm around you, very gently so as not to hurt you, and his lips are wonderfully cool against your hot forehead. "I know you can."

Sleep returns to temporarily release you from your pain.

///

"Frankie, she's not breathing!"

"Lemme see."

You cradle the still baby against your chest: the chest in which your heart has stopped beating. You're barely breathing yourself anymore, at least it doesn't feel like you are. If your baby is no longer breathing, how can you?

Frankie checks your child for a pulse, his grim face slowly falling apart when he realizes that which you don't want to acknowledge: that the fever has finally taken your daughter away from this burning world.

Halfway to the nearest town in which you had hoped to find a doctor, he turns the pickup around and return to the Millers' ranch, where you had taken refuge as soon as the cities started to empty because of spreading infection. You hug your baby to you the whole way. When you come back, William and Benjamin step out on the porch. They know how far it is to the nearest town, and that your early return only means one thing.

Frankie starts to dig a grave in the backyard that very same evening. You stand next to him in the twilight, still holding your child. When it's time to put her in the ground, the tears finally come.

///

The empty hollow in your chest is a stark contrast to the mind-numbing soreness of your body. How you manage to get out of bed and use the bathroom is beyond you. Returning to bed with an unopened bottle of moonshine - your last one - you force yourself to remember the dreamed memory of how you lost your daughter. In dark moments, such as this one, you think that it was for the best. What kind of a world is this to raise a child in? A fever is a lot less dramatic than getting bitten, infected, shot, burned. At least now she got to go to sleep peacefully in your arms. You buried her. Benny played a song on his old guitar and sang with a quivering voice. It meant so much to you.

The following year was hell. Frankie was just as heartbroken as you were, but he was the one who kept the marriage alive. Every time you pushed him away, he held you tighter. When you finally appeared from the tarry, stinking hole of grief, you discovered that you loved him more than ever. Loss makes some couples grow apart, but you had grown together. It was your salvation.

You take a swig from the bottle and grimace. Your head is pounding, and you can't remember the last time you ate anything. Alcohol poisoning is starting to feel very real, but you find it hard to give a shit. What more is there to live for, really?

Hunting down and killing those assholes who took your rings.

The thought sobers you up enough to put the bottle away. Sniffling from the pain, you heave yourself up from the bed, drag yourself to the bathroom where you vomit almost neatly, like it was planned all along.  Avoiding your reflection in the mirror, you turn on the water in the shower, undress, and step into the cold, slow drizzle. You stand there until the shower runs out of water and you are shaking. Slowly, wincing with pain every time you move a muscle, you dry yourself, put on clean clothes, and leave your apartment.

The heat of the afternoon sun feels good, but you don't reflect on it as you limp with purpose through the crowd moving on streets of the QZ. Your stomach complains of hunger, and you're dehydrated, but the mission at hand is more important right now.

You find the drug dealer at work, burning bodies. The lower half of his face is covered by a kerchief against the smoke and smell, but you'd recognize those shoulders anywhere. Without hesitation, you walk up to him as he makes his way from the pyre to the back of a truck. You can see the dead bodies stacked there, like logs. Or spoilt meat.

"I need to talk to you."

He recognizes you, and there is a split second of dismay when he sees your beat-up face before he squares his shoulders and looks at you with disinterest.

"I don't have anything to sell."

"It's not that." You step in front of him when he tries to get past you. "You know where I can find the people who did this to me."

Even with his mouth covered, you can see the tightness in his lips.

"Why would I help you?" He pushes past you, and you glance towards the armed FEDRA guard further away. He's not paying you any attention, so you follow the man to the truck and watch him lift another body from it.

"I have no idea," you confess, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the dead weight in his arms. It's easier to just think of the bodies as firewood, not the physical home of a once living person.

"I'd be in your debt," you try. He barely even looks at you.

"There's nothing I want from you."

"I can get you drugs," you tell him quickly. It's not a good idea, you're fully aware of that: every supply and every pill in the medical center is zealously accounted for, and you don't even have access to anything worthwhile. But he doesn't need to know that.

"I work at the clinic," you explain, now in a lower voice so that not one word will carry over to the FEDRA guard. The man stops, now eyeing you up and down.

"Why would you risk it?" he wants to know.

"I really need to get my hands on the men. They took something from me."

He grunts, leaning his weight on one leg and hooking his thumbs through the belt hoops of his jeans as he considers your offer. Eventually, he nods.

"What did they look like?"

///

Two days later, you're working in the clinic when FEDRA brings in man they found wandering outside the quarantine zone. He's middle-aged and a little malnourished but seems to be in otherwise good condition. He's brought in in handcuffs, and the agent leading him in gives you a little headshake.

The man's infected. You purse your lips, annoyed at the agents for not just shooting the man on the spot. Why do they have to bring them in here, where you have to pretend like they're not just about to die?

"How do you feel?" you ask lightly. "Any fever? Nausea?"

"I'm tired and hungry, I've walked for days - "

"You'll receive a meal and a bed shortly," you interrupt, grabbing the scanner so that you can check the man's status for yourself. The field agents sometimes bang up their scanners, so you don't trust them to give a correct reading.

The scanner's red light seals his fate. You hold the device away from him so he won't see it. Not that it matters: he must himself know that he's been bitten.

"I'll just give you a little shot of antibiotics," you tell him, turning your back to him as you prepare a syringe. "It's standard procedure for new arrivals."

You hear a shuffle and a broken gasp, and swing around to find him on his knees, looking up at you with fear in his eyes.

"Please," he implores you, "please don't kill me, I beg you, please!"

You swallow hard and nod at the FEDRA agent, who steps up and secures the patient so that you can administer the injection.

"I don't want to die."

Your hand starts to shake as his words start to move the sharp pieces of your broken heart around in your chest.

"I'm not ready to die."

Your throat feels constricted, but you manage to pump the entire dose into a vein, and the man grunts. You watch his eyes get sluggish, and take a step back when he slumps forward. His body twitches a couple of times before it lies still.

You tear off the mask and hurry out of the room, hurry down the dwindling corridors until you reach the back door. You burst through it and take a deep breath of the fresh air in the mid-morning sunshine. Your heart is chafing in your chest, which feels smaller than normal.

I'm not ready to die.

Leaning against the wall, you press your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing. In, out. Calmly. Frankie's voice haunts your memories. You can do it, baby, I believe in you.

Someone is approaching, so you snap your head up, your fist closing and ready to swing.

It's the drug dealer.

"I found them," he informs you without preamble. "Are you free tonight?"

"I'm free now," you tell him, desperate to get away from the clinic. He nods, and you ask him to wait fifteen minutes. Returning inside, you tell your supervisor that your injuries are bothering you. Once you receive a permission slip for the rest of the day, you change your clothes and leave.

Your guide is still waiting for you outside, arms crossed in front of his chest, face set grimly.

"Did you get the drugs?" he asks you when you come out. You shake your head.

"It needs planning."

"You've had two days of planning."

"I'll get to it, okay?" you snap, and he yields. It is a little strange to you that he would help you without any guarantee of payment, but you don't dwell on it. What matters is that you're on the move towards justice.

You follow the smuggler, who introduces himself as Joel, through the busy streets towards the blocks out of reach for FEDRA's concern. The crowd thins out, leaving only individuals of questionable intent and suspicious gazes. You don't feel unsafe, though: there is something very reassuring about having Joel walk in front of you, like his broad shoulders serve as a barrier between you and the bad things surrounding you. He moves with confident wariness, staring down anyone who dares to throw an unfriendly glance at the two of you. Finally, he stops outside what looks like a former bodega, and turns to you.

"There's three of them," he informs you shortly. "In the back room. Not very bright, but armed. You carrying?"

You pull out your handgun from the waistband of your pants. You've carried it since the attack, damned be the consequences if it were discovered on you. Joel nods, produces his own gun, and clicks the safety off. You do the same and follow him into the building. He moves surprisingly silently for his size and heavy boots, and you do your best to match him as he leads you through the derelict space to the back door. He gestures for you to cover him from the side, then counts down by holding up first three fingers, then two, and finally one.

Then he kicks down the door and fires a warning shot as he enters the back room, where three startled men scramble for their weapons. You crash in, immediately shooting one of them in the knee.

"Don't fucking move!"

"On your knees," Joel commands them. The one that you shot is already writhing on the floor, and the two others raise their hands as they kneel. You recognize the leader immediately, and his features tell you that he knows that the day of reckoning has come.

"Where are they?" you demand, pointing the gun at him.

"What?" He has the audacity to even ask you: he and his companions took nothing from you but two rings on a chain. Everything else you ever had, including love, your sense of security, your sense of self, were taken years ago.

"The rings!" you roar, coming close enough for the barrel of the gun to touch his forehead. "The rings you fucking took from me, where the fuck are they?"

"I sold them!" His voice is growing panicked.

"To whom?"

"I don't fucking know, it was just some guy!"

"The QZ isn't big enough for you to not know every single fucking lowlife that crawls these streets," you point out. The guy starts to shake.

"I promise, I don't know!"

You don't even think: your trigger finger makes the decision for you. The shot rings out as your hand jerks back a little with the recoil. Warm blood stains your fingers, and you point the gun at the next guy.

"What about you? You don't know either?"

"I don't know, I swear!"

You shoot him too. The last one is the one with only one good knee. Putting him down is an act of mercy, but he holds out his hand as you turn to him.

"No, wait, wait!"

You fix him with your gaze as well as the gun, and let him speak.

"I don't know his name, but I think he's FEDRA. Thin guy, around six feet, light hair, blue eyes."

Your nostrils flare as you recognize the description. Lowering your gun, you turn away from the man bleeding on the floor.

"What are we doin'?" Joel demands, but you click the safety back on, a new purpose forming in your mind.

"We are not doing anything," you tell him. "I don't need you."

You walk out of the building. A gun goes off behind you, telling you that Joel put the last assailant out of his misery.

///

Peters is on a smoke break outside the FEDRA headquarters. He nods when he sees you, and without wasting any time, you march straight up to him. You push him roughly, sending him back two steps.

"Where are my rings?" you demand, resisting the urge to reach for your gun. Peters' eyes narrow.

"If you want them back, I need something from you."

"What?"

"Meds. Drugs. You work at the clinic."

You stare at him, your hatred spilling into your features, letting him know just how much you despise him.

"You must know I can't just waltz in there and fill a shopping bag."

"That's your problem," Peters shrugs. "Get me pills, or you won't see the rings again. Moreover, I'll report you for killing the men that attacked you."

"How do you know I killed them?"

"You just told me."

You bite your jaws together as you realize that you've been had. Peters smirks.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

You can't stand to look at him one more second, so you turn around and leave.

///

The night is long when pain keeps sleep away. You toss and turn, your brain working feverishly overtime in trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. You remember how Frankie wanted both of you to stay clear of any kind of organized attempts to keep the new status quo, or the opposite. He was a contender for becoming a FEDRA agent because of his military background but refused to serve a government that shackled and killed people. Yourself, you could have joined the Fireflies, but he didn't want that either. It's just best to mind our own business.

You did that for a long time, and you still lost your daughter. You took every precaution when leaving the Millers' farm to make it on your own with Frankie, and still...

He comes to you in the small hours of the night when your brain can no longer tell the difference between reality and delusion. His familiar smell invades your nose and comforts you, and his strong arms gather you to him, to his steadily beating heart.

"You went and got yourself in quite a pickle now, corazon."

"I know, I know. You told me so."

"I did. Still, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

You sigh deeply. "Me too."

"You'll figure it out," he states matter-of-factly. Of course you will. You have to.

You sigh again and reach your hands into his hair, those soft curls that you have loved since day one.

"I want you, Frankie," you mumble. He kisses your forehead.

"You know we can't. We can't risk it."

He was always the careful one. You were on the pill when society collapsed, and you didn't exactly think to pack them when you had to flee your home. Whenever you raided a grocery store, Frankie would always check for condoms. When there were no more to be had, you had to resort to other ways to pleasure each other. The world may have gone to shit, but you still wanted each other. What you and Frankie had was a once in a lifetime thing. You could not not want each other.

"Just use your fingers?" you suggest throatily. "Your mouth. Like you used to."

"Why don't you do it to yourself, sweetheart," he coaxes you with equal amounts of honey dripping from his voice. "Let me watch."

He kisses you, teasingly, longingly. It has been ages.

"Let me watch you, baby..."

"It's not the same."

It was that objection, spoken years ago, that led to the penetration that resulted in a pregnancy. Your daughter had been dead for three years and the need to be with Frankie, really be with him, had grown too great. Your cycle was unreliable, and you figured that the risk was low.

Low risk, your ass. You got pregnant on the spot. And lost the baby only a few weeks later, the day you had to put a gun to your husband's head and pull the trigger.

I'm not ready to die.

That's what he said, as if you were any more ready to lose him. To lose him was unfathomable. But he had been bitten and had to beg you to put him out of his misery.

I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I'm making you do this. But someone has to. God, I'm not ready to die.

Tears begin to fall, and your body starts to shake. You roll over onto your back and sob out loud. Frankie is no longer with you, and all you have is a battered body, a broken heart, and a huge problem to solve.

You have to survive.

///

The medicine storage room is only accessible by key card and code. Only Craig, the physician at the arrival clinic, has both. You track his movements for the next two days, hoping to find some fault in his routine. When none presents itself after those two days, and you know that time is short, you try something new. Complaining of lingering pain, you earn a prescription of painkillers, but he won't release more than a couple at a time to you.

When you get ready to leave for the night, you throw a glance through the open door to Craig's office. He's sitting there; a middle-aged, bearded man, in a circle of light cast by the desk lamp, deep in paperwork. It's funny that medical staff should have paperwork even now.

"Good night," you say tentatively. He looks up, nods at you.

"Good night. Lock the door behind you. I sent the guards home."

You nod, and when the door clicks shut behind you, you have a plan. But for that you need Joel.

Still limping, you look for him in the deserted back alleys where the light faded already before the sunset. When you finally find him, he gives you a look that could almost be described as a smirk.

"You have my drugs?"

"Almost," you answer, squaring your shoulders that are dwarfed by the sheer wall of deadly that constitutes Joel's upper body. "I need your help."

"You're racking up quite a debt."

"I need your help to break into the clinic and beat the physician into giving us the drugs."

You state your business with the confidence of someone who has planned this to the very last detail, but the truth is that you don't really have any idea of how to do this. You're out of options, and you can't burst in there on your own, guns blazing. You need help, and you don't have anyone, not even Joel, but you have to convince him somehow.

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and raises an eyebrow at your bold proposition. "Are you on some kind of suicide mission?"

"I'm in trouble. I need those drugs, not just for you."

"I don't associate with desperate people. They get sloppy."

You purse your lips, angry at yourself for letting your despair shine through.

"If I don't get help, there will be no drugs."

He looks at you with narrowing eyes and for the first time you feel small next to him. You are at his mercy, and he knows it, and you don't like it one bit.

"It's not just about the drugs," he finally says, "there's something more. It has to do with those guys that we killed."

His eyes see right through you. "You know who they sold your rings to."

Fine. "He's a FEDRA agent, and he threatened me. If I don't get him drugs, he'll turn me in."

"Fuck." The curse comes out as a sigh.

"So if you don’t help me, they're going to kill me, and you won't get anything at all," you point out. Joel shakes his head.

"I need more than that. What are these rings? Why are they important?"

Now it's your time to cross your arms and glare at him. However, there is no beating that stone cold face. You could stand here until the end of time and you wouldn't win a staring contest with Joel.

"Me and my husband's wedding bands," you finally admit, defeated. "I wear them in a chain around my neck. They matter to me."

You expect him to scoff but to your surprise, you are instead served the hint of a crack in his grim facade. He looks down, seemingly at his left wrist right in front of his chest. The edge of a wristwatch peeks out from underneath the fraying cuff of his jacket.

"Okay," he finally nods. "Let's go."

///

The plan is simple. You will wear masks, get in with your key, surprise Craig, and force him to use his key card and code to open the storage room. A knock on the head and he hopefully won't remember much the next day.

"Can you walk without limping?" Joel asks as you pull the FEDRA-made balaclava over your head. Not surprising to you, he had managed to produce two of them very quickly. He doesn't explain and you don't ask.

"Don't worry," you tell him curtly and take out your gun. "Come on."

The clinic corridors are dark and silent, but you know that Craig will be in his office. His sleep deprivation manifests in dark circles under his eyes each morning, as well as in the way he cherishes his big mug of surrogate coffee every day, like it was a delicious Guatemalan roast. He has no family, barely any conscience either, but he has always shown a weary patience with you when you started working at the clinic. Not a chatty type, but then neither you.

The light spilling out the open office door tells you that he's still working. You gesture towards the door and Joel shows with a nod that he's understood. Quietly but quickly, with your heart thumping in your throat, you make it to the door. Joel makes himself known first, his tall and broad form claiming the entire doorway.

"Let me see your hands. And stand up."

Slowly, Craig obeys, but when Joel tells him what he wants, the physician is not moving.

"Did you not hear me?" Joel growls, but Craig doesn't move a muscle.

"I'm not giving you drugs."

Shit. You didn't count on him being a hero. Not knowing what to do, you hold back a gasp when Joel walks around the desk and smacks Craig in the face with his gun.

"How about now?"

Spitting blood and trembling from the shock of the sudden assault, Craig nevertheless shakes his head.

"No."

Joel growls again, and grabs Craig by the collar. Dragging the man after him to the corridor, he looks in both directions. "Which way?"

Craig doesn't answer, so you nod to the right. Joel sets off, pulling Craig with him. A tearing sound is heard when a piece of his shirt fabric breaks from Joel's rough handling, but Joel doesn't blink an eye. You follow, cursing under your breath. Just fucking give him what he wants, Craig!

Joel stops at the door to the storage room and shoves Craig against it. "Open it."

"No." The word is spoken in a small voice, but it is a no nonetheless. Joel cocks his gun and puts it to the older man's forehead.

"Open it."

You suddenly feel sick. This isn't right. This isn't how you wanted to do it. You push your hand down his pockets, finding the key card, and you immediately scan it by the door, but without the code, the door doesn't open.

"The code," you ask him, but he only shakes his head. You shove the gun under his chin.

"Don't be a hero."

"I'll die before I give you the code."

"Let me oblige you," Joel growls. "I'm counting to three."

You look into the physician's eyes. You may not know him, but you can see that this is a man who has made up his mind. What traumas does he carry that makes him so eager to part with his life? Maybe this end comes as a blessing to him?

"Fuck!" you exclaim and slam the gun against the side of his head. With a heavy huff, Craig sinks into a heap on the floor, blood seeping out of a cut on his head. Joel looks down at him, then turns his dark face to you.

"What is wrong with you?"

"All of this!" you hiss before turning around promptly and starting a brisk march down the hallway, away from the situation, out and as far as you can get. You don't know if Joel follows you, and you don't stop, except to dispose of your balaclava into a trash can halfway home.

Frankie is nowhere to be found as you pace your small apartment all night, waiting for FEDRA agents to come and arrest you. When the first rays of morning light come in through the window and nobody has been at your door, you collapse on top of your bed, and sleep restlessly for three hours.

Showered and with clean clothes, yet still looking half dead, you venture out of your apartment. You don't really want to but know that you have to make an appearance at the clinic, see how Craig is doing, what the consequences of your break-in are. You have a lie to serve about why you're late and are ready to serve it with a straight face. When you arrive at the clinic,  however, nobody is interested in questioning you. There is blood at the entrance, and extra guards who check your credentials before letting you in. You walk through the halls towards Craig's office, fearing what you'll learn, what more lies you'll have to come up with to explain why you didn't come to work in the morning.

It turns out that nobody cares about your absence: everyone is more concerned with the assault and subsequent death at the clinic last night. Slowly, you begin to understand the picture, even if you can't understand it.

Around midnight last night, a man and a woman broke in, threatened the physician, then rendered him unconscious with a nasty blow to the head. He woke up by a gunshot, traced it to the back door, and found a dead man holding the gun he recognized as belonging to the masked man who threatened him. This dead man has been identified as Jeffrey Peters, a FEDRA agent.

Peters. Discreetly, you make sure that there's a wall behind you, and lean on it to make sure you'll stay on your feet.

"You okay?" Craig asks you, and the FEDRA agents all turn to you. Shit.

"Yeah..." You make a show of rubbing your forehead and sighing deeply. "I did guard duty with Peters."

"How well did you know him?" one of the agents ask, and you shrug.

"Not that well. We didn't talk much about ourselves. He seemed nice enough, though."

"Was he punctual? Reliable?"

You hesitate. "He... sometimes, a couple of times, he'd ask me to cover for him, and he'd disappear for a few minutes or so."

"While on duty?" another agent prompts. You nod.

"I always assumed he went to piss or something."

"Would you have thought him capable of something like this?"

You swallow, your hesitation real as you try to navigate these tricky waters. How do you raise suspicions about Peters without expressing a dislike for FEDRA?

"I think that his training made him capable of many things," you finally saw, eyes cast down.

They buy it, and you're let off the hook together with Craig. You apologize again for being late, blaming headaches and pains, and get the rest of the week off.

You immediately start to look for Joel. When darkness brings another night over the QZ, you still haven't found him. Instead, you find your local bootlegger and trade in a ration coupon for two bottles of something not-quite-clear that you're positive has a high enough alcohol level to kill off whatever germs it most probably contains.

The liquor tastes vile, and you long for the carefree emptiness that the pills provide, but at least you pass out soon enough. The nightmares you have are of Frankie and the bullet you put in his head, again and again and again you're forced to relive the terror, the guilt, the absolute devastation of having to first kill your husband, then live without him.

When you wake up the next morning, your anguish is only trumped by your hangover. It takes you half the day to get out of bed, shower, dress, and eat without getting sick. When you finally venture out it's late afternoon, and you are on a mission to find Joel. A nagging suspicion about him is making you uneasy, and you need confirmation, even if you have no idea what to do with the knowledge.

You finally find him hanging around the usual alley where you know that he deals. He's performing a quick transaction with a young, haggard-looking woman, and you wait at a respectful distance until she's gone. Joel's gaze follows her before fixating on you, and you see his hand quickly stuff some coupons into his pocket.

"You're dealing?" you demand at once. "Where did you get the stuff from?"

"Another source came through."

"So we beat Craig up just for fun last night?"

Joel gives you an almost disdainful look. "It was your idea."

Your head is pounding, and you feel the bile rise. Fighting to keep it together, you turn away from Joel and rub your palms over your face.

"Did you kill Peters?" you ask, your voice subdued beneath your hands.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He complicated things."

That's for sure. You take a deep breath, will your stomach to settle, your head to cease spinning. Slowly, you raise your gaze to Joel.

"How did you do it?"

He folds his strong arms in front of his chest and dips his chin a little as he regards you.

"You sure you want to know?"

You nod. Yes, you're sure. You need to know.

"I told him your plan and said I needed his help to execute it. He jumped on it at once. As soon as we had broken in, I took his gun and shot him. I left my gun in his hand and put my balaclava on him, then left the scene. The doc soon raised the alarm."

Joel tells you this matter-of-factly, like he was talking about a walk on the beach. But there is still one issue he hasn't addressed, and now you have to.

"The rings," you remind him. "My rings. Did he have them on him?"

"Yes."

Your heart almost stops. "Yes?"

Joel sticks his hand in his pocket and fishes out the gold chain. The two rings clink softly when he places them in your trembling hand. They feel warm from his body heat, and for a moment you can almost feel Frankie's touch on you.

"Thank you," you whisper throatily, closing your hand to keep the rings safe. "Appreciate it."

Joel only grunts.

"I'll get you the drugs," you promise. "Somehow."

"Forget about it. You don't have to."

You look up at him, surprised and wary. Nothing is free in this world, and Joel is a smuggler. There is no way he wouldn't want anything for his troubles. You're indebted to him, no matter what he says, and you hate that feeling of him having something on you.

Joel's dark gaze offers no answers. You pocket the rings and don't know what to say. Lingering in front of him, you almost feel like you did when you were 12 years old and finally had the opportunity of talking to your crush. The feeling mixed badly with the relief of having your wedding bands returned to you, and before you know it, your lips are pressed against Joel's.

Joel is completely unresponsive, so you step back almost as quickly as you advanced. He's like a statue, cold and still, and you suddenly just want to cry from how much you miss normal human interaction, even just a hint of goddamn kindness.

"Sorry," you mutter before slinking away, neck bent in shame and confusion. You head towards the small apartment that was never a home but that you call home because what else would you call it? Sometimes you think that it must be easier for young people who know of nothing else but this world. At least they don't know the loss of, say, sunny Sunday morning breakfasts, exchanging relaxed, loving smiles across the table before leaving the coffee cups and hurrying back to bed...

The heartache is physical, intolerable, and makes you hurry. You need to get away from people, hide between the four walls with peeling wallpapers that surround your designated living area. If you're going to break, you have to do so privately.

As soon as you've locked the door behind you, you reach into your pocket and take out the chain. The rings look as familiar as ever: you know every scratch in the gold as well as the little indentation in Frankie's from that time when he caught his hand in the car door. His ring finger was saved by you still had a hard time getting it off his finger as it started to swell. The rest of his fingers required a visit to the ER. He never wanted his ring fixed. Frankie believed in letting things age as they were, with scars intact.

You slide your ring on your finger, finding it doesn't fit anymore, not only in size, but it also looks foreign on your finger. You sigh deeply and fasten the chain around your neck instead. The liquor bottle comforts you when the pain becomes too much to bear. You drink slowly, mindfully, because you know that drinking yourself into a stupor only makes you pass out. You need the in-between, that special place where you're awake but lost to substance. That's where Frankie is.

He comes before long, sighing deeply as he stands by the bed and watches you in the dusk.

"Missed you," you mumble, reaching for him. Frankie, however, doesn't move.

"You need to snap yourself out of this," he tells you gently. "Baby, you need to - "

"I need to survive, I know," you cut him off. "You always tell me that. I'm surviving."

"Survival isn't just about not dying," he reminds you. "You need to move on, my love. You have to move on."

You blink slowly, trying to focus on him. Has he always been this hazy?

"What're you talking about?"

"I think we should stop doing this."

You jerk up into a sitting position. The room spins, as does your stomach.

"No! Frankie, no, I can't do this without you!" Tears begin to run down your cheeks. Frankie shakes his head and looks at you in the same way as the first time he worked up the courage to ask you out: chin down, warm brown eyes shyly peeking at you. Now, however, he just looks infinitely sad. The trembling smile he gives you rips your guts out.

"You've been doing this without me for years. You can do it. You're strong, baby, you're so strong."

"I don't want to," you weep now, snot mixing with tears on your upper lip. "Frankie, don't make me do this."

"I don't want you to live in the past."

"There is no future to be had."

"There is always life."

He sits down next to you and lets you cling to him. He kisses your hair, caresses your back, lets you cry it out against his threadbare flannel, soft and worn down.

"I loved you since I first saw you," he tells you with longing and regret in his deep voice, "and I loved you until the end."

You want to tell him that you love him too, beg him to stay for his love for you, but your throat is too constricted for words. You cling to him, desperate for one last embrace, to smell his skin, thread your fingers through his soft locks, feel the scrape of his mustache on your lips.

"Let me go," he implores you. "You need to let me go, sweetheart."

"No..." you keen helplessly, pathetically, "please, don't make me do this...!"

"It's okay, baby."

"No..."

"It's okay. You'll be okay."

You don't know when he leaves. The next time you open your eyes to look through a curtain of tears at the room, he just isn't there anymore.

///

Joel's observant eyes follow you when you hurry away from the alley where he deals. Normally, he doesn't pay his customers too much attention, but there's something up with you.

He hasn't seen you in a week, and you look like you've been on a bender for the entirety of that time, and only now woke up, cleaned yourself enough to show yourself in public without attracting too much attention, and then went out to get more shit to fuck you up. Your eyes are bloodshot and unfocused, and he can smell alcohol on you. Your body language is so different: you are hunched up, neck bent, and your eyes fastened on the ground.

You want more pills than usual. When he lies about not having any more, you pull out even more ration coupons. He should say no. He has a terrible feeling about what you're about to do with those pills. Even if he's wrong, he knows approximately how many coupons you get each week and month, and you're giving him pretty much everything you have.

He should say no, but he doesn't. It's business, and those coupons are worth a lot.

Still, he watches you leave, then starts to follow you through the crowded streets of the Boston QZ. He keeps a distance but realizes soon that you have no idea - or don't care - if you are being followed. You bump into people, dig your hands even deeper into your pockets, and let yourself be pushed to the side by an angry passer-by. Still, you walk with a sad kind of purpose until you reach a run-down brownstone and disappear inside. He enters not long behind you and stands still in the foyer, hearing your heavy steps work their way upstairs. Finally, steps along the floor, then a door.

He stands in the foyer for a while, wondering if he should find out which apartment is yours, and see that you're okay. In the end, however, he decides against it.

You're not his problem. Now that all the unpleasantries with the clinic are over, and both of you seem safe from suspicions, he's definitely not getting entangled with you again.

Still, he lingers in the foyer, shifts his weight from one foot to the other while scowling at himself. Finally, he leaves the building and marches away. He has shit to do. He has his own survival to think about.

One block down, he turns around.

///

The rapping on your door makes you jump, and you pull out your gun as you go to look through the peep hole. Seeing Joel, your first thought is that he's coming to kill you and take back his pills, the pills that are waiting on your bed.

"What do you want?" you want to know.

"Just open the goddamn door or I'll break it."

You doubt he'd do something like that, but you still open the door. Joel fills the entire doorway with his broad frame, looking past you into the room. He doesn't even seem to care about the gun you're holding. When he sees the pills on your bed, he takes a step in, and that's when you point the gun at him.

"Don't take another step."

"I need those back." His voice is nearly toneless but you can hear a warning in it.

"I'll shoot."

"I've seen you pull a trigger, you would've shot me already if you wanted to."

He walks past you as if you were but a child who didn't want their toys taken away. When he reaches your bed, you realize that you're really going to lose your way out.

You throw yourself on him, pushing him down onto the bed, and start beating his broad back with a knuckle and the gun. For a moment, he grunts and curls up, but then he seems to find himself, and turns around and grabs your wrists with an ease that's nothing but frightening. He twists your wrists, and you drop the gun, your face distorting into a grimace until you keen from the pain. That's when he releases you, takes your gun, and releases the clip as well as the one in the chamber.

You lie on the bed, panting from lingering pain, your aching hands pressed against your chest, and watch him gather the pills. He doesn't look at you, barely even acknowledges you, except for when he leaves your coupons on the sheets. You feel cheap, used, discarded. Shame burns in your throat, and you just want him to leave, go and let you be alone with your misery.

Instead, he sits down on the couch, grimacing a little when his back hits the backrest. You got in some good hits.

You glare at him. "You got what you came here for, now get the fuck out."

He regards you with a slightly tilted head, even puts his arm up on the backrest, claiming his space with spread legs and a comfortable recline. You think in that moment that you hate him fervently.

"Are you a good shot?"

"What?"

"I said, are you a good shot?"

You stare incredulously at him as you slowly sit up. "Why?"

"Just answer the question," he barks. You shrug.

"Not a great one, but I get by, I guess."

"Rifle?"

"Yeah."

"I could use you on an expedition."

"Are you offering me a job?"

He leans forward, forearms on his knees. "I need a lookout. You interested?"

You chew on your lower lip, still suspicious and frankly, a bit confused. He waits patiently for you to come to a decision.

"Okay."

///

There is something about being outside the walls of the QZ. The air is fresher there, more breathable, more oxygenized. There's greenery, the whole city of Boston is swallowed up by nature. It's heart-breakingly beautiful how when a civilization falls, another takes over. The civilization of trees, animals, plants. Some part of you applauds the reclamation, roots for the trees, so to speak.

Liberating though it may feel, the world outside of the QC is also incredibly dangerous. But with Joel on your side and your former experience of traveling with Frankie, you learn how to navigate the overgrown streets and decrepit buildings.

Coming back from the first run - a shorter one to look for an alternate way through a particularly nasty block - he asks you if you've had military training. You just shake your head, but you can tell that he still is curious about your use of hand signals, how you handle the rifle, your military abbreviations.

"My husband was," you finally offer, not taking your eyes off the road. "Special forces."

Joel grunts in acknowledgement, but neither one of you speak any more until you reach the QZ at nightfall.

"I might need you again," Joel says once you're back inside the city walls.

"You know where I live."

He holds out a small, crinkled slide lock bag with pills, but you shake your head.

"I'd rather not have those around," you tell him quietly. Even if you long for the oblivion the pills can provide, you have decided - for the time being - that you don't need them.

Joel immediately pockets the pills, like he's afraid you'll change your mind. He then nods at you before disappearing into the shadows. You go home, and you sleep better than you have in ages. Still, the lumpy pillow is wet with tears when you wake up in the morning.

///

On the fourth run, you save Joel's life. You're his lookout, perched on top of a smaller building, while he clears out debris in an alleyway. The sun is high and sweat runs down your forehead. You wipe it away and then you see him: a man holding a baseball bat, slowly creeping up on Joel from behind. Mechanically, you take aim and shoot. Joel jumps at the sharp sound of the shot, and the subsequent groan from the man who slumps down onto the street makes him turn around. The man's head is blown to bits, and Joel quickly looks through his backpack and pockets for anything useful. He then looks up at you, gestures for you to keep looking - the gunshot could attract unwanted attention - and goes back to what he was doing, confident that you'll have his back.

You realize that in a very short time, you've become somewhat synced with him. You noticed early on that Joel has impaired hearing on his right ear and therefor wants his right flank covered in dangerous areas. He has bad knees, so you help out with heavy lifting from the ground. He doesn't talk much, but he gives you the last piece of jerky when your stomach growls at the end of your break.

He reminds you of Frankie in that sense. Frankie would also wordlessly see to it that you were comfortable, both before and after the outbreak. He would give you the best couch corner and get you your favorite snacks. He would have you take the last sip of water and stay awake all night so that you could sleep. And he never expected anything from you in return.

The comparison hurts, but you didn't use to think about Frankie at all during the day. He was a bittersweet pleasure saved for the night, for the pills and the alcohol. Now you're thinking about him in the harsh light of day, whenever your gaze rests on Joel's broad shoulders a second too long.

And yet, Joel is nothing like Frankie. You late husband kept his softness, his humanity, even after the loss of your daughter. You don't know what Joel has lost, what he has done, but you can tell he's been through shit. Well, so did Frankie, and Frankie never changed.

Joel is a cold hard killer. You find yourself wondering if he was always that. He has a military background, that much you know now, but what did his hands do when they didn't hold a gun?

Joel has made his way through the clutter in the alleyway, and you climb down to continue forward with him. He grabs you by the upper arm and when you startle, he releases you with his hand sliding down your arm, surprisingly softly.

"Thanks," he says gruffly, and you nod. So that's what his hands can do when not busy beating the life out of someone.

The two of you walk on, attentive of your surroundings, and very aware of the other's presence.

When you return to the QZ with the first light of the morning Joel stops you just a you're about to part ways. His hand rests heavily on your shoulder as he seems to look for something to say.

"You did good," he finally says. You search his face in the hopes of finding something more, but he is as closed off as ever. You finally put your hand on top of his. His fingers flex at the contact but stay where they are. A few moments pass by with the two of you just staring at each other and when Joel doesn't make the first move, you finally do. Your lips are on his, seeking a response that takes some time. When your lips part to let out the tip of your tongue against his pressed-together lips, his hand moves to the back of your neck, his big palm cupping you there roughly. You didn't expect him to be so rough from the way he had caressed your arm before, but it feels right. His tongue meets yours, forces it back into your mouth as he devours you, dry, chapped lips that taste of sweat stealing your breath away with the kiss that never ends, or maybe it's just one kiss after another that picks up before the previous one is over.

When he finally lets you draw breath, you're almost light-headed. He's still holding you by the back of your head, but now his fingers are gently stroking over your scalp. A tremor runs down your spine, and you make up your mind.

"My place is not far away," you tell him quietly. He just nods, then follows you through the empty streets to your apartment and into your bed.

///

He's not there when you wake up. You didn't expect him to, and you feel nothing but relief.

Last night, this morning, was a disaster.

You get up and step into the shower, the cold water making you shiver as you scrub yourself with a rough piece of soap. The events of the early morning replay before your inner eye, and your cheeks burn with chagrin.

He was rough. You welcomed that. Tenderness would have reminded you too much of Frankie, and you couldn't think about him. You ripped each other's clothes off, and Joel did his best to get you off, using his fingers and mouth. But he was in too much of a hurry, and you were stuck in your head. Eventually you just pushed him away and asked him to fuck you. You even turned around so he could take you from behind. So neither one of you had to look at the other, in case you suddenly found yourself wondering what you were doing there.

Muffling yourself by hiding your face in the sheets, you took the backshot as silently as you could, enduring it rather than enjoying. You wanted it, but you found yourself distracted by thoughts of unwanted pregnancies, and found yourself unable to relax. Your tension led to greater friction, his big cock struggling to fit in, and after having assaulted your clenching pussy for a few minutes, you sucked him off.

Neither one of you were satisfied, and you fell asleep by sheer force of will, because it was the only way for you to escape the situation.

Stepping out of the shower, you dry yourself off before wrapping the threadbare towel around you. Your fridge is empty because you haven't been to collect your rations, and you slam shut the fridge door with a frustrated sigh. Your last remaining liquor bottle stands on the shelf. You haven't touched it in a while, but now you grab it and unscrew the cork. A deep line between your eyebrows, you drink deeply, savoring the heat of the drink going down smoothly into your belly. Leaning against the countertop, you rub your forehead and sigh deeply.

This went to shit faster than green grass through a goose.

It was only supposed to help you release some tension. It was only because he touched you like that. It was only because he gave you the rings back. It was only because when you shot that would-be assailant, you imagined for a split second what life would be like if you hadn’t seen that assailant in time, and Joel would have died.

It was only because you missed the touch of another human being.

Inhaling deeply, you will yourself into facing yet another day. It doesn’t matter. Joel doesn’t matter. You’ll survive.

You go to the clinic, you perform your tasks, you return home with rations, but the bottle is more interesting than food. You eat dutifully, however, before emptying the bottle and cursing the fact that it was your last one. Just as you’ve decided to try to get hold of more alcohol, there is a knock on the door. Sober in just a second, you grab your gun and approach the door, craning your neck to look through the peephole.

It's Joel. Frowning, you open, letting him see you’re holding your gun.

He barely raises a brow. “You can put that down.”

You do, but keep the door ajar, staring at him with distrust.

“What do you want?”

He shrugs. “Wanted to see if you were alright.”

“I’m fine.”

He nods, then looks down the hall before fastening his gaze on you again.

“Can I come in?”

“What for?”

He pulls out a flask from his pocket and shakes it seductively. It’s full. You consider this for a second, then open the door and walk back into the apartment. Joel follows, closing and locking the door behind him. You take one corner of the worn down couch, he takes the other.

He brings not only the bottle, but also pills. You accept one – a lot less than your usual dose – and down it with the real bourbon from his flask.

“That’s good,” you nod when passing the flask back to him. Joel nods and takes a swig.

“I know a guy.”

“You know a lot of them, don’t you?”

He grunts, unwilling to admit the extent of his network. You’ve met a handful of people during your runs together. None of them ever introduce themselves, and neither do you.

“What about girls?” you ask boldly, the substances starting to mellow you out. Joel raises one brow quizzically.

“I know where the FEDRA agents go when they want to let off some steam,” you continue. “Do you go there as well?”

He shakes his head. “Not my thing.”

“Don’t you fuck at all?” you ask, the booze and drugs slurring your words slightly. “Maybe that’s why your pity fuck last night was so miserable.”

He bristles a little at that. “I’d be inclined to say that it wasn’t all on me.”

“No,” you sigh, “it was me as well.”

Silence descends with the two of you staring at the ceiling, at your own hands, at anything but each other. When you reach your hand across the couch, Joel gives you the flask. You take a large swig, and Joel glares at you.

“That stuff’s hard to come by.”

“I’m sure you have your ways.”

“At some point my ways won’t be enough anymore.”

The conversation is stilted, unnatural. You lean back and sigh deeply, your eyes closing.

“Why are you here, Joel?”

He takes the flask from you, and you hear the cork screwed shut. He then shifts closer, his body heat radiates towards you. You keep your eyes firmly closed and startle when you feel his fingers brush over your cheek. Next, his lips. They slowly cover your skin to your lips, which separate so that he can close his lips around your lower one when he kisses you. Bourbon mixes with bourbon and the intimate flavors of the self when the kiss deepens. Joel slides his tongue in, intimate as if it were finding its way into your slick cunt, not your mouth. It’s met by your tongue, eager and shy at the same time, unable to decide whether to wait or advance. With a calm confidence, Joel takes control, kisses his fill of you, peels raw the sensitive skin around your mouth with his sharp bristles.

His hand comes to a rest on your thigh, fingers loosely spread over the flesh until you put your hand on his and press down. He breaks the kiss, and you feel his shallow breaths right in front of you.

“Look at me,” he demands in a low voice. Your eyes flutter open to meet his: dark as the night but not frightening in any way except in intensely they seem to yearn for love and affection, if only for one fuck.

“You’re drunk,” he states.

“Yes,” you confirm, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

“What do you want?” His hand burns on your thigh.

“I want… I need you to fuck me, Joel.”

He makes some kind of noise, a guttural croak, maybe a growl, and presses his lips to yours again. Now you let yourself react more, your tongue meets his in a powerful dance, your hands run up the sides of his waist, ribcage, and back to pull him in. Your eyes are closed again, you don’t want to see anything, you only want to feel. He pulls his mouth from yours to instead bite and lick your tits, hands cupping and discovering and pinching. When he attaches himself to one nipple and sucks hard, you keen loudly, your head lolling back to meet the wall behind the couch. You find his hand on your breast and redirect it to the base of your throat. Joel only pauses his ministrations briefly before continuing, his fingers closing around your throat for a gentle but firm squeeze. You whimper encouragingly as the light pressure on your windpipe cuts off all intrusive thoughts, allowing you to focus on the pleasure instead.

When your breasts are dappled with marks left by Joel’s lips and teeth, he releases your throat and stands up. You blink up at him, worried for a moment that he grew tired already, but your eyes catch the thick outline of his cock at the front of his jeans, and then he offers you his hand. You take it, and he pulls you up, crashing you into him, back against his lips, and as you kiss you unbutton his denim shirt, rid him off it unceremoniously, then take his t-shirt off. You make no time to admire his chest and stomach, don’t allow yourself any musings on the physique of a middle-aged, hard-working man. You simply duck your head to bite his nipples, suck and nibble just as he did to you. Joel grunts, his fingers slipping through the hair at the back of your neck before taking a hold and pulling your lips off him. You cast a wondering glance up at him, but he’s already maneuvering you to the bed. Not unkindly but with a demand that you appreciate, he pushes you down on the bed, then locks your gaze as he unbuckles his belt. You mirror him, unbutton your jeans and push them down your hips as he does it, and then you’re naked before him, and he before you. Your eyes flicker down to his stout cock fighting gravity as it strives upward. Involuntarily, you start to salivate, your mouth remembering the challenge of fitting as much as possible of that thick cock in it. Your cunt is dripping in the same recollection, and you swallow, your legs separating as you show Joel what you have, your fingers trailing down to part your lips and rub your clit. He inhales sharply before leaning over you to roughly turn you around. He then gets onto the bed, gives you a surprising smack on your ass, and then you feel his bristles and lips against your sex, from behind, as his hands knead your ass cheeks. You yelp in surprise and instant gratification before muffling yourself against the mattress as your whimpers turn into moans, rising in volume the tighter your core winds itself. Lick after slurping lick, you let go of everything but the sensation, your ass in his hands, your cunt pressed up against his face, your clit throbbing from his constant rough care.

Joel’s name is on your lips when your climax breaks free, but you press your lips together, press your eyes shut, press your hand over your mouth as your legs kick and your body trembles. Your walls have barely stopped fluttering around empty when Joel shifts and moves up your body, positioning himself. Your cunt is wet, but his cock still sears through you as he pushes himself in, balls deep with one thrust. Your breath gets stuck in the back of your throat, your scream stops before it’s even out, and then your lungs compress when he lays his entire weight on you. You expect him to pound you into the mattress but instead, Joel starts a slow, deep grind, and it's almost more brutal because he’s deep, so thick, so heavy, and you don’t want him to stop. Your mewls are pitiful, the sheet are half inside your mouth, there is no room to move and when Joel grips your throat again, there is barely any room for breathing, either.

And yet, you want more of it. You want him to choke the life out of you, want him to crush you with that broad, heavy frame of his. You want him to blow you apart, tear you up, fuck you so deep that all there is left for you to do is survive. Survive this slow, all-consuming fuck, the one you wanted last night but couldn’t have because you were thinking too much. Now you’re not thinking at all, but you still have two braincells that cooperate enough to tell you that he’s about to bust when his breaths turn quicker and huffier against your cheek.

“Don’t come inside!” you squeak, and Joel heeds your wish. He pulls out just as quickly as he entered, and you feel him spill on your ass cheeks, hot and sticky.

You feel empty and cold when he climbs off you. Moving your extremities gingerly, as if expecting them to fall off, you slowly curl up on your side. Joel pulls the covers over you and you’re too dazed to dwell on it. Instead, you let sleep take you away.

///

“You talk in your sleep.”

Your head snaps around to find Joel still in your bed. You have just woken up, stretched, and noted that it’s still dark outside, so you decided to sleep some more, if nothing else then to try to suppress the beginning hangover that you feel just behind your frontal lobe.

“What do I say?” you ask, not sure if you want to know. Joel waits until you’ve settled, then turns onto his side, facing you.

“You talk to someone you call Frankie.”

The name hits you like a sledgehammer in the face, and you feel shattered. Murdered. You haven’t heard that name said out loud in so many years…

“He was my husband,” you whisper, like you were afraid that if you talk about Frankie to anyone, he could turn out to be nothing but a figment of your imagination.

But he’s not. You still wear the rings around your neck to prove that Frankie was real, very real. But his touch has faded from your skin, even if your love for him hasn’t left your heart.

Joel doesn’t say anything, but you can sense the grief in him, burdensome and harsh. You wonder what dead loved ones he carries with him, but you don’t ask. Instead, you inch closer, find his shoulder, and rest your head on it. Your head is heavy, a headache waiting just around the corner to break out, but you feel strangely safe like this. You don’t know anything about Joel, but you trust him.

“Go back to sleep,” you tell him, as if you were old lovers, used to sharing a bed, of falling asleep in each other’s arms. You’re not, however, you’re very new lovers indeed, and Joel is hungry for more. He kisses sleep away from you before mounting you and fucking you with the same slow, steady devastation as earlier. Except for moaning, it is a silent affair with no other communication than the direction of limbs into their right places. He has your legs on his shoulders, hands on the back of your thighs, pressing your legs impossibly down so that you’re almost bent double, trapping you between his rock-hard cock and a sharp spring in the worn-down mattress. Each profound thrust pushes the breath out of you, along with a moan, and shoves the bed against the wall with a low knock that you somehow want the neighbors to hear.

You’re furiously rubbing your clit and when the orgasm rises as a dark shadow to swallow you whole, Joel releases your legs and curls his fingers around your throat instead. You cum hard, mouth open in a silent scream, and in the next second Joel pulls out and paints your pussy and hand with strings of hot cum.

He goes back to sleep with one arm around you. It is not the soft embrace of a lover but the possessive shackle of a broken person who has found someone equally broken to take away their pain, tiny moments at a time.

You raise your hand to your neck, and press at the skin. There’s a bruise forming there, you know. You press it softly, feeling your pulse in the tenderness. Right next to it, the rings are softly clinking against each other.

You don’t think you’ll ever take them off. But you also think that it’s time to stop taking those pills.

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part one

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.

You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.

“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.

“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.

No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.

You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.

When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.

“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.

It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.

Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.

“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.

“You…you were in my room that night.”

You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”

“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”

“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.

Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.

You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.

“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”

“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.

“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.

And like every time. He caves.

“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.

“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.

Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…

“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.

You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.

Next chapter

-No Taglist because idk of people want this to be tagged in (I will add you if you ask! Just my normal ones I don’t wanna spam them with notifications if they don’t want this)

[chaoticsomeone]

Bats and their Grisha!S/O

Headcanon

All are different Grishas and their S/O's

+Selina x Bruce x You polygamy

So sorry But i cant write Duke even tho I want to

Richard "Dick" Grayson

Already showed you off in a few galas before

He doesn't really tell anyone the fact you're a squaller(control of storms and air)

Only mentions you as a squaller once when he was arguing with Tim over whos the better couple, you and him and Bernard and Tim

"Yeah?? My S/O can summon storm and lightnings!"

"YEAH? PROVE IT!!" - Tim

"FINE! I'll get them to show you at tomorrow's family dinner"

When he went to your apartment that night he told you abt the fact that you'd have to come tomorrow night to his family dinner

To be fair you only knew of Babs, Bruce and Jason

You donned your blue and black kefta to show that you were Dick's and that you're a powerful squaller

After dinner you all went to the roof and you summoned a storm just above the roof and made the lightning create a sentence "I love Dick Grayson"

Let's admit it Dick will always brag about it

And Dick really wanted to perform a trick so he leapt to the edge of the building without his suit trusting you would use your powers to keep him afloat and get back up safely

Bruce asks you to maybe join future operations and missions

Jason Todd

You're definitely a heartrender

He as Redhood when he was attacking gang members of Harley Quinn and Joker you helped him while peacefully eating your favorite food

He saw you literally stop peoples heart and made the people he's fighting struggle to breathe and having a heart attack

He thanked you and came to you the next day as Jason

You kicked it off instantly because you two fell inlove at first sight

After around 5 months into your relationship he finally decided to tell the family (the girls already knew since they saw you and him going to the library together and sometimes kissing)

He told everyone how you had the power to manipulate people's organs and body

The night Jay told you that tomorrow is going to be the day of a family dinner which you were invited to you were nervous but excited

You came with a red&black kefta and a dragon-scale amplifier around your neck

Jason practically says you're the best and keeps helping him heal hide his scars. (Yes you could act as a tailor)

Forever from then the batfam accepted you and gave you a spot as the bats' Redclaw knocking down enemies with a light hand movement

Barbara Gordon

When Batgirl fell into the ocean when Joker almost killed her. You, a random bystander suddenly got the courage to run and help her

She was worried and told you to run

Until she realized you were helping her get on her feets by drying her off and getting the ocean to be helping you.

She thanked you and asked for your name after

She promised to keep in contact with you and gave you a good name to the Bats of Gotham

You secretly squealed inside because the batgirl you had a crush on actually said to put in a good word and to meet you tomorrow

When she came as Babs you fell and fell inlovee

She was so nice and brought you to the Batfam Dinner one night to ask you to be one of them.

She surprised you by calling you her date/s/o.

You were again a blushing mess

The others asked for proof and babs took the chance to splash the person besides her which was sadly Jason

Jason got mad but she told him how you could dry him off in mere seconds

And you did not dissapoint

The Bats accepted you and helped arranged a proposal of marriage between you and babs

Even though really quick Babs and You were ready and were deeply inlove even though she doesn't really show it.

Cassandra Cain

You were being chased down by her because Bruce had sent her to get you and to keep eyes on you after once learning your skill in tempering with Chemistry, to make sure you aren't using it for bad intentions

When her eyes met yours she fell inlove

She always thought your purple outfits were always so charming

You were really nice and handed yourself in to her and you and her are practically a blushing mess

When you calmed down you told her about you being an Alkemi and all

She told Bruce about you having powers, so Bruce made you a small house with a lab in it besides the manor for you so he could keep close eye on you

Cass visits you everyday

You two finally decides to date

She incorporated purple into her outfit everyday to remind herself of you

You were brought to the next night's family dinner as her "date" rather than as a neighbor

You two told everyone you were dating each other

Everyone supported

At the table you showed them a few tricks

Like using your powers to burn stuff or change the color of some items

They all approved of you and Cass' relationship

Eversince that Dinner you were tasked to create formulas and weapons for the team

And to come every now and then to go agaisnt Bane and Poison Ivy

You'd only go on missions with your Knight, Cass

Tim Drake

He met you when he saw you walking into the library he was working in

You asked him whether or not she could sit near him even though its almost every table is empty

When he really payed attention to you he had experienced butterflies in his stomach fluttering louder than ever

He noticed his RedRobin symbol on your backpack and asked you about it

You told him you just adored RedRobin

More and More butterflies

It turned into a crush and he finally gathered the courage to ask you to meet his family

Before that he revealed himself as RedRobina and you basically swooned over him

He promised to make you two official at tonight's dinner (he arranged his sister and brothers to help)

You then told him how you were a talented Tailor

He thought you were a outfit tailor yk

When you walked up to him and touched his face you cleared up his eye bags

You decided to give him a chaste kiss aswell

He was a blushing mess all the way to the dinner

Everyone surprised you and Tim asked you to be his Girl/Boyfriend

Bruce was nice as you always thought he was and you were so happy to meet all the heroes of Gotham

Babs asked you to show her how you were able to 'tailor' someone's appearence

You showed her by grabbing Jason and moving your hand acrossed his face and getting rid of his scars

Tim was jealous so he grabbed you by the waist and they all laughed

He'd eventually let you go and you got rid of the tailoring on Jason

The bats would often stop by your apartment asking you to hide their scars and such almost every night

Stephanie Brown

It was simply really, She met you when she was running her usual morning runs

She saw you from acrossed the street and gathered the courage to ask you out

It went well and after a month or two of getting to know each other you two were dating

And after 4 months she asked you to join the family dinner where she showed you that she was the one and only Spoiler, secretly your favorite hero

YOU ACTUALLY SQUEALED OUT LOUD

She was laughing and blushing

You two were so happy together

And you told her how you could control fire with ease

Even without any flammables near you

You managed to take the hydrogen off of water and turn it into a flame

It was a trick used at the dinner and everyone loves you

You were the nicest and outgoing person and so was Steph

You two were soulmates

Damian Wayne

You met him when he was in the league, you were a young shadow summoner

He thought when he left that he'd never see you again until he met you confused as you stepped into his school

He instantly greeted you and the flame begin to reignite between you two

After 2 years you asked him to be your boyfriend

You helped train him and sometimes help in missions by disguising him as shadow (Bruce isn't aware of you joining in every mission with Damian)

When Damian told the Jason about you by accident Jason instantly shouted to everyone

"THE DEMON HAS A GIRL/BOYFRIEND!! AND THEY HAVE POWERS!!"

He was forced to invite you for the next family dinner

When the night arrived the evening you were picking out which kefta to wear. You ended up a Black kefta with an embroidened Damian's robin symbol

You were ecstatic and anxious

But it all went away and you were happy talking with everyone

You and Cass instantly 'clicked'

You showed everyone what you were capable

You even managed to create a Volcra then making it dissapear

You're now an official powerful asset to the bat family as The Darkling

+ Damian always always always brags about being able to pull you and Jason being too "undateable"

Jason always says you deserve better than a demon

Bruce Wayne

He met you when he saw you secretly assisting him in some missions

You'd be blinding an enemy from hidden locations

He'd always see a small ray of light from odd locations

After investigating he found out it was you, you told him about being a light summoner and all

After a few months you secretly dated him but the other batfam members catched on quickly

They support

And they were soo.. whats the word.. think you're awesome. You'd always helped THE batman

When he finally brought you to a family dinner you'd show them all your powers

You were happy with them all and sort of became their mom

+Selina Kyle(polygamy w bruce)

She always bragged how she found you first and asked you out first

She asked you one day when you two are on a date whether or not you'd be open to a polygamy with THE bruce wayne.

You agreed and thought she was lying

But oh boy you were glad she didnt

You three were inseperable if not acting as antiheroes or vigilantes. You were always a mix of both as a Durast

You'd sometimes go on heists with Catwoman opening and manipulating materials like steel or even titanium with easee and making it like it never was touched.

And other times you'd create bullets and other weaponry out of your surroundings when helping Batman

The batfam kids always knew of Selina x Bruce but when they brought you along the family dinner they were shocked

Damian thought Selina was cheating on Bruce.

But at the end you'd always been like a second mother to them

You'd create stuff for them on a daily basis leaving random gifts sometimes