#i saw seven birds and they said CRY. CRY HARDER

[ascended-icarus]

anyone else ever just sit and think about how impossibly close 100 years would make you . how that’s more than enough time to become a family. a home, of sorts. like. imagine the small quirks you’d figure out about the people you love over A HUNDRED YEARS. do they smile slightly crooked? do they always put on one specific shoe first? what tells do they have? you’d know it all. and you’d have to love them. how heartwrenching it must be to have that suddenly gone. like i feel like even if your memory was wiped there’d be like. a weird amount of empty space. maybe you feel like you should know why the way that stranger adjusts their glasses makes your heart lurch, but you just... don’t. because, surely, there’s stuff that couldn’t have been written in the journals. yeah, there’s enough to get the main bits away. No more remembering the mission, or your family, or your lover, or your sister... But surely there was no way to write down exactly how someone you had loved liked their coffee. No way it could have possibly been written that certain people in your little found family like different types of hugs. No way it could’ve been written that you once saw her hair and swore you saw the sun, no way you could forget the way it felt to be held in a warm, comforting embrace after a hard year. Maybe the memory of who it was is gone, but the feeling would remain. And, god. Isn’t that almost worse?

[barry-j-blupjeans]

#4 Taakitz?

4. "You're the worst, I love you so much."

--

"Oh. My. Gods. Is that Taako? From Story and Song?"

Y'know, usually Taako enjoyed being famous. At the very least, it made it harder for people to pickpocket him because someone was always watching. Though, that made it harder for him to pickpocket anyone, too. Taako liked his fans, loved them even, but someone of them needed to learn to not snitch if they saw him doing a "crime". That was none of their business, thank you very much.

However, there was a very important exception to his "yeah, sure, c'mon up and meet me" rule. And that was that if he was with literally anyone else, ever, then maybe you should either wait 'til later or, at the very least, acknowledge the other person's existence. Sure, if he was hanging out with Lup or Magnus or whoever, they all got attention. Them's the breaks with the whole "seven birds" deal. But heaven forbid he and Ren go out for lunch or he tries to take his boyfriend out on a fucking date. Gods-damn, some people couldn't light a fire if they rubbed two of their own brain cells together.

Kravitz met Taako's eye over the top of his menu, tilting his head further down the street to where the voices were coming from. They had been planning to get breakfast at this chic little café Lup had pointed out to him in downtown Goldcliff, but Taako was really not in the mood for a swarm of fans right now.

Kravitz leaned towards him and asked,

"Want me to get rid of them?"

"Like... kill them, or-?"

"Not quite," Kravitz said. "I don't think the Raven Queen would be very happy with me if I just started killing random people."

"It's a valid tactic, though," Taako said and Kravitz didn't disagree, but he didn't say anything either. "Go for it, babe. Let's see what'chu got."

Kravitz smiled at him and held his menu back up to his face. The people down the street were getting closer now and there was a very distinct, "I think it is him!" from one of them. Taako pulled the brim of his hat down over his eyes.

A halfling, an orc, and a drow approached their outdoor café table. Taako awaited Kravitz's punchline.

"Excuse me?" said the drow, the one who they had first heard earlier. Taako took a sip from the coffee that their waiter had brought out earlier. "Uhm, Mr. Taako, do you mind if we get a pictur-"

"Mr. Who?" Kravitz butted in. Taako choked on his coffee.

"Uhm," the drow said. "Taako? Him?" They pointed towards Taako, who was now patting his chest with his fist in an attempt to get his breathing back in order.

"I don't know what a Taako is, but that's not a very nice thing to say to my husband," Kravitz said, setting his menu down. Taako tried very hard to muffle his giggles. He raised his own menu over his face to hide.

"It's- it's not an insult!" the halfling said. "He's Taako, right? From Story and Song?"

"And TV," the orc sighed dreamily.

"What's Story and Song?" Kravitz asked. Taako switched his menu to one hand, using the other to cover his mouth.

"You're goofing us right now," said the drow. "This is- this is a bit, right? This is a bit."

"It isn't," Kravitz said, holding it together a lot better than Taako was. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The fish song!" said the halfling. "The seven birds? Are you telling me you missed the literal end of the world?"

"I don't get out much," Kravitz said.

"You didn't have to go out to hear the Story and Song!" said the halfling. "You're killing me, man."

"I'm really not understanding, sorry," Kravitz said. "But I'm going to have to ask you to go. Look, you're making my husband cry."

Taako was crying, but it definitely wasn't a bad thing. Still, he took a deep, shuddering breath and peaked just his eyes over his menu.

"My sister was killed by seven birds," Taako said, voice steeped with tears. "Oh, I'm remembering it all like it was just yesterday. All the pecking and the screaming-"

"Please, just let us have breakfast," Kravitz said. "This is his first day out of the house in years."

"And they just kept cawing "nevermore"!" Taako said, throwing his hand to his forehead. "My poor, poor sister."

"I'm... so sorry for your loss," the orc said. Taako hid back behind his menu. "We'll, uh, we'll leave you to... that. Have a good day."

"You too," Kravitz said. Taako listened to them walk away and dropped the menu, burying his face in his hands and laughing so hard his chest started hurting. Kravitz patted him on the arm. "Not too shabby, huh?"

"You're the worst," Taako said. "I love you so much. God, I gotta bring you everywhere."

"Love you too," Kravitz said, grinning. "Do you know what you want? I think I'm gonna have the cheese omelette, but you can take your time because I think we scared our waiter away."

[remolupini]

Under the cut is the prologue to my fic Dearest moon, life's tenor does not change. It's the idea I mentioned, in which Remus gets kidnapped by Grayback at five and spends his formative years with the pack.

TW: child loss, kidnapping of a child

«Six years now, isn’t it?»

Hope Lupin couldn’t help but cringe. The neighbourhood women were understanding about it, but often tactless. «It was seven at the beginning of the month,» she corrected her friend.

«Have you though about, maybe, having a second child?» Anne, the one whose house they were having tea in, asked. «When we lost our Daisy, it was harder than anything, but having Callum helped. And now Tracey too.»

Of course, Hope remembered when it had happened. She’d barely moved to the neighbourhood then, a pretty and young wife, just quit the secretary job she had since sixteen, maybe slightly too far into her pregnancy for it to be proper, but Anne was a midwife and she simply stated that if her job was to bother everyone who went to the first few checks without a ring on their fingers she would need a much higher pay.

Daisy had already been on radiation then, and never lived to see 1960. Anne had come in to the Lupin household crying, just after Lyall had surprised Hope under the mistletoe. “You know what they called it, our grandmothers and their mothers? Wolf. Feels a better word that what we use now.” she had whispered in Hope’s arms.

But that had nothing to do with her Remus.

Nothing.

Her Remus was alive.

That was just a fact.

Lyall’s kind’s police had told her so. They had told her as long as his name was in their book, he was alive. And she belived them. She had to.

«I don’t think that’s the best—» she started explaining, but then Callum ran into the room.

«Door’s got locked again! But I swear that’s got nothing to do with me!»

Anne sighed and got up, fishing a key from the very back of top shelf. «It don’t get stuck with anyone else, and only when Tracey’s bothering you on the other side.»

Callum huffed. «Door’s wide open and then it’s locked. I swear!»

«Yeah, it’s got to be magic, isn’t it?»

Anne handed Callum the key, and he rushed to the back of the house to free his poor little sister.

Hope chuckled. She’ll have to tell Lyall about this. «Oh, believe the kid. Do you say he got the key, found some bottles to turn in for money and got himself a made copy? It’s probably the wind and a diffucult door.»

Anne sat back down and took a sip of her tea. «The thing is, he’s ten, he’s discovered he can lie to us, and decided it’s the most fun in the world.» She simmered in her thoughts for a second. «I wish you knew how raising this age feels,» she added.

Her Remus would have been twelve. No, he was twelve. She couldn’t even imagine how he looked like, her little boy on the brink of teenage.

Her sweet angel, all curly blonde hair and light brown eyes. He used to look so much like her, all her family said so, but she felt at times that he was so undeniably Lyall’s too.  Which of them would he more closely resemble after he started to shed his baby fat? Would he settle in a height midway between his parents’ or stay shorter like Hope?

Despite wondering so much, she almost expected the next time she saw him for him to still be on the edge of five, none of his milk teeth yet replaced.

There was much about the day he got to hug her Remus again she didn’t expect.

For a start, she didn’t expect Lyall to wake her up in the middle of the night, a bird made of light in their bedroom. It didn’t matter how long she’d known him, magic always took her by surprise.

«They found him. They found Remus,» is all he said before they started getting dressed.

When they landed from apparation, they weren’t at the ministry, that much was clear. It was an amazing-sized manor, and the Indian woman that was at the door quickly ushered them to a dining room on the lowest floor.

Blinded by the opulence of the room, she almost didn’t notice the more than a dozen children crowding one end of the table, anywhere from three to sixteen according to her judgment, although they all looked too tall for their frail figures.

Most of their eyes shot up when the door opened, while the youngest kids burrowed further into the oldest ones. Hope could barely beging to imagine the kind of fear they were going through. She followed with her eyes a brown haired little girl as she hid once again her face in the neck of…

Oh there he was. Her Remus. Whispering soothing words in the little girl’s ear, holding her extra tight to make sure she wouldn’t slide down off of him.

Hope tried to catch his eyes, leagues more golden than she remembered them to be, in the middle of them a jagged scar lining his nose up to the corner of his mouth.

It was clear he had no idea who he was looking at.

[jjmaybud]

two of the same | kiara carrera

summary: it’s your and kiara’s wedding day and there’s a surprise waiting at the end of the aisle.

pairing(s): kiara carrera x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warning(s): fluff, swearing, alcohol use.

author’s note: every two hundred days I post an imagine. this sucks but its been a work in progress in my drafts for like seven months and I just wanted it out there.

For as long as you could remember, Kiara and you have been on the same wavelength. You had met when you both were fourteen and trying to save turtles from the seagulls loitering on the beach. You were a pogue, but you kept to yourself most of the time until the day you both were out on the beach swinging thick sticks at any bird that tried to take your sea turtles. After that, you became inseparable. Sometimes you would finish each other’s sentences—the pogues gagged every time. You could look at Kiara, and she would know what you were thinking like the time you didn’t have enough money for some Mike and Ike’s at the gas station. Once Kiara caught your eye, she distracted the store owner so you could sneak out with a box or two. There were times when you didn’t even have to look at her. She knew what was going in your head, and you knew what was going on in hers. Anytime your mood changed, anytime you didn’t feel like you were enough, she knew how to approach each scenario with what you needed.

And when you started developing feelings for her, you didn’t even have to tell her. You did, though. It was the only time you felt like you needed to express in words rather than the connection you shared. Kiara deserved words.

You took her out on HMS Pogue to a nice place that wasn’t traveled very often and sipped on cheap beer the two of you snatched from the boys. She could tell you were anxious about something but knew to give you time. You would spit it out eventually. But once the sun started to go down, she was worried for the first time that you wouldn’t say it at all. She knew how you felt about her. She was sure you knew how she felt about you. But now you were sitting there, nervously swinging your legs over the edge of the Pogue, and she wasn’t sure if she was right this time.

Deciding against words, Kiara placed her hand on your lower thigh and rubbed her thumb into your soft skin. Your legs stopped swinging immediately, and the both of you felt the tension disappear.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurted. “I know we never say what we’re feeling to each other, we just know, but I wanted to make sure you knew just how much I’m in love with you. Kie, I would travel the world three times around in just this little boat to measure how much I truly love you."

You rambled on listing times when you knew you loved her and metaphors of just how much she meant to you. You told her that you didn’t know if she could even tell how you felt because the feeling was so new and exciting and terrifying. You never felt this way about anyone, even the list of celebrity crushes that had come and gone couldn’t compare to the way you felt about her. The way her cheeks crinkled her eyes when she smiled, the way she couldn’t go anywhere without her bracelets, the way she cared about everyone else way more than she cared about herself. She wasn’t perfect, but she was perfect for you.

She cried, and then you cried because she was crying. The hand on your thigh moved to the side of your face with her finger tips weaving in the little hair at the bottom of your neck and her thumb catching the tears that came down your face. She guided your face to hers and pressed her lips against yours in a sweet kiss. It was unfamiliar territory seeing as how your previous relationships have never felt this intimate. Have never felt this freeing.

∴∵∴∵∴∵∴

That was years ago. Now, both of you had just graduated college and freshly twenty-three. Today was your wedding day. You were going to marry the girl you’ve been in love with since you were sixteen. The two of you had your ups and your downs. Your fights could break any couple a part but not you and Kiara. Because even though you fought hard, you loved harder.

You stared at your reflection in the antique, gold-trimmed mirror. Her parents insisted the two of you got married where they hosted Midsummer’s every year. Your parents had passed away a couple of years before, so the both of you granted the Carrera’s that much since they were paying for it. After all of the mischief the pogues and you caused at that golf course, you and Kie were surprised they agreed to let you have your wedding there. Neither of you cared where you got married. You’d have a courtroom wedding if it meant you two could finally prove your love on paper. Kiara didn’t really care about being “legally bound to someone like you’re their property,” but she thought since it was two women it felt like a big fuck you to the misogynistic system of it all.

You smoothed out your flowing summer dress that went down to your knees with spaghettis straps that showed off an appropriate amount of cleavage and shoulders. The only thing on your feet were the bracelets the pogues each made each other when you were all young and dumb on one ankle and the one that only had one matching twin on the other that was worn by the woman waiting down at the other end of the aisle. The flower crown on your head wasn’t as bulky as the one on Kiara’s head from the Midsummer held during the treasure hunting summer, but it was definitely a homage to the most awesome and awful summer ever.

“Y/N,” John B said from the doorway. He smiled as you looked at him through the mirror. “Ready?”

You laughed. “Since I saw her.”

You turned around and walked over to take his outreached elbow.

“You look beautiful.”

The other two boys were waiting in the hall. Smiles broke out on the everyone’s faces as you each took each other in. Each of the boys knew this would happen eventually. You knew they would be there for you no matter who it was. Pope held the turtle-shaped ring box since JJ called for the job as flower girl. JJ took his job proudly and seriously as he held the basket full of flower petals. Kie and you decided not to hear them bitch and moan about wearing anything resembling formal attire so you let them wear whatever they wanted. Luckily, John B was able to talk Pope and JJ out of wearing the tacky tuxedo t-shirts, and they all settled for similar looking beach attire like they used to wear when they were teenagers.

“Let’s get these two hitched! Come on!” JJ yelled and took off down the hall, careful not spill the flower petals. You were impressed.

Pope kissed you on the cheek and asked, “Nervous?”

“Never.”

The three of you walked to the end of the hall. John B and you stopped before you could pass by the wall of windows, so you didn’t see Kiara before it was time. Pope went on just in time to see JJ dancing down the aisle to Crazy in Love by Beyoncé and see his finale.

“Dude! How am I supposed to compete with that?” You heard Pope yell over the music. The crowd starts to laugh before their laughs turn into cheers as Pope does his thing down the aisle.

You shake your head. “I can’t wait to see the wedding video.”

“Oh, yeah, you won’t be disappointed.” John B laughed.

The music switched to the instrumental of If I Could Fly by One Direction that you chose. You almost dragged John B the moment you heard the beginning chords, but you held yourself back and waited for John B to lead you. You forced yourself to wait again until you got to the doorway to look at Kiara. You could already feel the tears build up behind your eyes at the anticipation at how gorgeous she would look like waiting down at the end of the aisle. As people set their sights on you, you could hear gasps and whispers but you thought it was just because of how good you looked. But when you looked up to catch sight of your future wife, you knew that wasn’t what caught their eyes.

In sync, you and Kiara threw your head back and laughed heartily from the pit of your gut. Even with the setting sun behind her, you could clearly see the dress she wore that matched the one you spent hours deciding on before you chose it to wear on your wedding day. From head to toe, you matched. You decided to wear matching flower crowns because there was no way that your dressed would match. The two of you thought it was too insane that you didn’t even have someone check to make sure.

Through an enormous amount of giggles, John B finally got you down the aisle where he handed you off to Kiara before taking his spot next to Sarah on Kiara’s side. Kiara lead you to your spot next to JJ and Pope. Both of your hands went to each other’s face to wipe the tears of laughter away.

“How? How does this happen to us?” You asked.

She laughed some more and said, “Because we’re two of the same. And I love you just the way you are.”

Oh, how you wanted to skip to the kissing part.

[bothcreativitybois]

Intruality Week 2021 Day 2

I’ve decided to try and connect all these propmpts into one story. If you want to read the day 1 fic it’s here

Day 2: Cooking/Baking @intrualityweek2021  Wordcount: 1292 TWs: Swearing, little bit of sad Patton (I’m just like this okay?), Remus doing Remus things, brief gore (not detailed), alcohol meantion (one sentance)

General Taglist: (ask to be added <3) @crazydemigod666 @star-crossed-shipper 

After seven hours, five countertops, twenty spatulas and countless other fatalities, Remus looked at the dozen plates set out in front of him. This was his greatest masterpiece, he continually amazed himself. This plan would work perfectly, he just needed one more thing before he could start. He quickly sank out into Patton’s room. The only light was a little pooh bear night light, dimly illuminating the mound snuggled under numerous fluffy blankets. Remus sneaked forward quietly until he reached the edge of the bed. “Papa Bear!” Remus shouted and jumped on top of Patton. The sleeping side was startled awake and screamed loudly, grabbing his attacker. He was mostly relieved to see it was just Remus. “Hey Kiddo.” Patton said tiredly. “What do you need?” He rubbed his eyes as he spoke. Remus’ wicked smile glowed in the darkness. “I made you dinner.” Remus said proudly. Patton sighed. “Thank you Remus, that’s very thoughtful but I already ate.” Patton mumbled as he laid back down. Remus waited a moment before jumping again. “Please Daddy! I spent a long time on it.” Remus asked again. Patton didn’t move but shushed him. “Everyone is sleeping, please be quiet.” Patton asked. Remus shook Patton’s bed. “I’m gonna be loud until you agree!” Remus shouted. He started moaning and shouting vulgarly. Patton quickly sat up and put a hand over Remus’ mouth. His red face glowed in the dark. “Alright alright just plea- hey!” Patton retracted as Remus nipped his hand. “Ew.” He wiped his hand on the blanket, Remus grabbed it and pulled him out of bed. He sat Patton at the dining table and spun himself around. He changed into a sultry looking waiter outfit. “Tell me what you think of each dish.” Remus said as he grabbed the first plate. “I worked hard on them.” Remus placed the plate in front of Patton whose sleepy mind was caught off guard. He’d forgotten the golden rule of the mindscape: Never trust Remus. On the plate was a caramel apple, except the caramel was covered in lint and hair. “Oh um… I think you dropped it…” Patton gently picked up the apple by the stick and showed Remus. He looked it over with a smile. “I didn’t.” Remus said proudly. Patton relaxed for a moment. “That’s from Virgil’s hairbrush.” Patton dropped the apple back onto the plate. Remus pouted. Patton looked at Remus’ sad expression then back at the hairy apple. After a deep breath he picked up the apple and Remus lit up. Delicately as he could, Patton took a bite before dropping the apple. He covered his mouth as the sticky strands stuck to his teeth. Remus looked on hopefully. “It’s… good.” Patton lied as he churned the caramel with his teeth. Remus clapped and jumped excitedly. As soon as he turned to get the next plate Patton began spitting the caramel into a napkin and scraping the sticky bits out. He wished he had some water. “How about a drink?” Remus read Patton’s mind in the worst way possible. He placed a plate with a fancy looking martini glass in front of Patton. He would’ve taken it immediately after that horrid hairy haribo but he wasn’t going to break the golden rule twice. “What… is it?” Patton wasn’t sure whether it was better to know or not. “A cocktail.” Remus announced. “Sex on the beach.” Patton eyed the drink suspiciously. He’d seen pictures of the drink before but they looked a little more… colourful. Patton picked up the drink and took a slow sip. The grainy salty liquid was putrid. Patton gagged and spat it back into the glass as discreetly as he could. “What is in that…” Patton asked through teary eyes. Remus brought a notepad out of nowhere and read from it. “Sand, water from Logan’s fish tank, salt, oyster juice and bird poop.” Patton gagged again. “How's it taste?” Remus asked with a smile. Patton really began to re-evaluate just leaving. “A little salty…” Patton tried to be honest by Remus’ sad face smacked him in the heart. “But still good!”

Dish after horrible dish Patton puckered, swallowed and gagged his way through the devious delicacies. Each was worse and less edible than the last, he was pretty sure one was just a boiled baseball. With each plate he wished he’d stayed in bed. “Last course!” Remus announced as he grabbed the final plate. “A lovely dessert!” Patton thought of all the things he wished it was. Cookie Dough ice-cream, brownies, strawberry milkshake, chocolate mousse. “Kitten eye-cy pop!” Remus placed the bloody red iceblock in front of Patton who squealed. This wasn’t real, it was just a nightmare. Even Remus wouldn’t expect him to eat that. But even when he opened his eyes again, a handful of tiny sad frozen kitty eyes stared back. “No Remus!” Patton sobbed. “I can’t! No! I’ve had all your horrible food and I’m tired and upset and no!” Tears exploded out of Patton's eyes. He sobbed for a moment before looking up at Remus. He expected anger and disappointment, maybe a bit of shouting. But Remus’ eyes were filled with pride. “Fucking finally!” Remus said as he sat down. “I thought I was going to have to serve you Roman’s stupid little face to get you to crack.” Remus danced a hand over the dessert and it disappeared. “What?” Patton was really confused now. He really wanted to go back to bed. “Patsy, I didn’t wake you up at three in the morning and feed you a bunch of gross stuff and expect you to enjoy it. I’m sadistic, not oblivious.” Remus explained. Patton wiped his eyes and listened. “You needed a lesson, thankfully I am a great teacher.” “What lesson?” Patton asked sadly. Remus rolled his eyes. “You need to learn to say no!” Remus snapped. “I’m sorry.” Patton croaked overwhelmed. “No, don't apologise!” Remus stood and shouted back. “I’m a bad person! I did bad things! Yell at me!” “I can’t...” Patton sobbed.                               “Do it!” Remus pressed. “No!” Patton finally gave in. He pushed himself up with the table, tears sparkling on his cheeks. “I’m tired! I’m upset! I just wanna sleep!” Patton tried to emphasise by hitting the table but accidentally hit the plate. He slowly looked down at the broken plate. Patton fell back into his seat in a sobbing heap. Remus stood there looking between Patton and the plate for a minute. Then he took a few steps closer. “Didn’t know you were that strong.” Remus joked. Patton didn’t laugh. “Remus please don’t.” Patton begged, he didn’t know what for. Patton felt Remus drape something around him. Remus wrapped his arms around Patton and lifted him into his chest. A moment later the room darkened. Patton felt himself being placed down onto a bed. His bed. “Remus.” Patton felt more blankets cover him. “Consider it a thank you for the sweater.” Remus smiled to himself. It just occurred to Patton that this was the second time Remus had seen him cry in two days. No one saw him cry. He reached out of his curled up position and grabbed Remus’ hand. “You’re a good guy.” Patton whispered. Remus wasn’t sure how to react. “You’re delirious.” Remus said back. “Maybe.” Patton conceded. “But I would really like it if you could cook for me again some time.” Remus froze. He was trying to annoy Patton, trying to annoy him and be a terrible person, but Patton thought it was… endearing? “Oh I definitely will.” Remus chuckled. It was less wicked and more goofy. Patton hadn’t heard that before, neither had Remus. What was happening to him? He was getting soft. He’d just have to try harder.

[appleteeth]

Bruce Week Fic #6

Sunday (July 25): Grief, Magic

(Warnings for mentions of domestic and child abuse.)

It was funny, being friends with someone who knew magic. Loki had somehow, after everything they had been through, become one of Bruce’s closest confidant on board the spaceship taking them to Earth. First they would merely nod at one-another in quiet respect, then Loki stopped Bruce in the corridor one day to explain how something seemingly innocuous he had done was actually offensive in Asgardian culture and Bruce, though wary he was tricking him, thanked him. 

Then Bruce would make a habit of finding Loki in the makeshift dining hall and sitting with him, not exactly striking up conversation but letting him know they could talk, if he wanted to. 

A few months into the journey and Loki was spotted laughing loudly at something Bruce had said, and whilst it made Thor a little nervous to see them getting along so well, it was also a relief. They were both part of his Royal Council, after all, so they needed to get along for the sake of his people. 

Then, when Bruce moaned to himself about being unable to find what he needed in the cramped medical bay, Loki produced the vial out of thin air and handed it to him. 

“That still freaks me out,” Bruce told him before taking the vial tentatively. 

“I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t,” he said with a smirk.

“How does it work? Are you pulling items from somewhere else? Are you taught how to use magic or is it instinctual? Could I learn magic or is it an Asgardian thing?”

“No, I was taught by my mother and yes… to an extent. You wouldn’t be able to conjure items or control objects but you can learn basic spells.”

Bruce was excited for barely a second before he frowned. “Are you messing with me again?”

“Bruce, I have come to find you… relatively welcome company. I enjoy our conversations, even if you are a Midgardian.”

“Bit prejudiced, but thank you.”

“So I’m not messing with you,” Loki concluded. “I can give you some basic spells to try that will give you more insight into your being.”

“I, uh, think I’ve had enough insight lately," he said warily. 

And Loki smiled, this time without a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"What if I were to teach you a spell that helped you in ways you never knew you needed?"

Bruce snuck into the medical bay late into the evening whilst the rest of the ship went to sleep. It was the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, especially as Asgardians were so resilient to injury, they barely came to him with less than a severed limb. 

He read through the instructions Loki had written in elaborate cursive, mostly in English but certain words wouldn't translate so he had to work through how to pronounce them before starting. It was oddly pleasant following the instructions step by step, like he was trying out a new recipe, only this was more writing specific phrases in runes than measuring out ingredients. 

He had to write the words as naturally as possible, like he had been writing in the language his entire life, recite them outloud and then… go to sleep. Which was easier said than done when he was expecting something miraculous to happen. He crept back into his shared dorm with seven other passengers and lay down, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would actually help him.

He finally drifted off and there he found himself travelling, not sure what he was facing was a dream or effects of the spell, but welcoming it nonetheless. 

He was standing in an old-fashioned kitchen, meticulously clean down to the top of the cabinets where nobody would ever bother to look. Whoever's domain this was, it was so well looked after it could very well be a showroom. 

There were a few signs of life, however. There was a small stack of plates ready to be cleaned, a few novelty magnets on the refrigerator, a Captain America action figure on the table…

Bruce stopped, looking at the toy and realising where he was. He had spent so long trying to forget his childhood home he didn't even recognise the kitchen anymore. But he knew that toy like it was imprinted on his mind, having spent many hours clutching it, talking to it, wishing the real Cap was there to save him.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, would you like some water?" 

And he spun on his heel to see her. It was so odd to view her now that he was a little taller than her, instead of being small enough to wrap his arms around her legs. She was still as beautiful as the pictures but she wasn't memorialised in his mind like some sort of perfect being. Her sweater was threadbare at the elbows, her hair was a little frizzy (thick curls like his, almost identical in colour) and she had dark circles under her eyes. She also wore glasses, which Bruce had completely forgotten because she took them off for photos. 

"Uh…" he didn't know what to say to her. 

"You must be parched, here," and Rebecca poured him a glass of water from a pitcher she kept in the fridge. "Piping in new houses is never deep enough to keep water cool, not like the old days." 

He was still trying to find words when he realised a vision shouldn't be able to hand him things, and he shouldn't be able to feel the cool water tumbling down his throat. 

"So, you wanted to talk about Robbie?" 

He nearly choked on the last mouthful and hid it with a loud cough. 

"Um, yes," he said, not sure who he was supposed to be in this scenario but going along with it all the same. 

His mother nodded and indicated for him to sit down with her at the kitchen table. Again, it felt so strange to be big enough for a chair he used to sit at every day as a kid, his legs swinging and needing a cushion so he could reach the table properly. 

"His teacher said he's been excelling," she said proudly but then immediately frowned. "You didn't speak to my husband, did you?" 

"No, of course not," and he now knew his role like he had read the script. "Yes, young Br… Robbie has been working really hard and it's clear to see he is clever." 

She smiled, but it was juxtaposed by her sad eyes. "You're going to say he should be in a gifted school, aren't you?" 

"Uh…" 

"Well I'm sorry but he can't. He just… can't." And she sighed tiredly before collecting herself. "I'm sorry, it's just--" 

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "You don't have to explain your reasons. I know you would want the best education for him, but sometimes that can't happen." 

And he couldn't help himself, she was right there in front of him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it in comfort. 

"Thank you," she said quietly. 

"And it's not like kids won't excel as adults just because they missed out on extra tutoring," he continued. "They'll catch up in no time and go on to do great things." 

She smiled warmly and Bruce recognised his own features in hers. He never thought he looked like her, always hating how he was the spitting image of his father, but he saw himself in her smile. 

"I hope so. Do you know he can name every bird he sees? Even the scientific names. He read about bird watching and within a day he was telling me facts about each one." 

Bruce couldn't help but grin, having forgotten about that particular hyperfixation. "Is that so?" 

"If he could… that is, if we agreed he could go to a gifted school, I suspect he would get a scholarship for college, maybe even go early." 

She looked furious, if just for a moment, letting her guard down enough to show how she really felt. Bruce had never seen her angry; she had hid it well when he was small and already so scared of someone else's anger. She had shown him nothing but smiles and positivity, desperate to make his life as normal as possible. 

But he remembered hearing her crying behind the bedroom door, trying to suppress her sobs so she could go read her child a bedtime story like nothing was wrong. The illusion was shattered that day.

"You are doing everything you possibly can for your son. More than everything. You--"

He stopped himself. Was this really a dream or had he really travelled back? What would it mean if he told her?

"I will lay down my life for him," she finished, eyes defiant and full of fury. 

He felt his facade fading, no longer able to pretend he wasn't who he really was. 

"You're going to save my life. Over and over. Until that bastard kills you for it." 

He cried, clutching her hand and unable to look at her. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him. She wasn't supposed to be known as just a wife and mother. She was exceptionally bright in her own right, never one to boast but able to keep up with her husband and nudge her son towards harder sums and thicker books. It wasn't her fault the man who told her he loved her had used that love to control her, to make her feel weak and stupid.

Had she escaped that night, she would have done great things. 

"I know," she said quietly, tears in her own eyes. "I figured I had a shot that night. He usually stays late at the bar and left the car at home, so I thought I had three hours. But I didn't know he had a meeting the next morning and drank a whole bottle of whiskey walking home instead. I miscalculated." 

"It's my fault. You told me to pack but I couldn't find my stupid Captain America toy and…" he wiped his eyes angrily. "I held us up." 

Rebecca reached across the table to wipe the trails of tears from his cheeks.

"You were a child," she said. "It can never be your fault. Hey," and she cradled his face in her hands. "It was never your fault." 

"It wasn't yours either. None of it," he said defiantly. 

She nodded. "Thank you." 

The vision was starting to waver, like an old projection flickering as the film ran out. He clutched her hand desperately, wanting to tell her so much more, to tell her he hadn't wasted the gift she gave him that night. That he had excelled despite everything that happened. That he did everything to make her proud. 

He felt her hand slowly fading, getting lighter in his hand as it faded away. He managed to tell her he loved her before he awoke back on the ship, his face wet with tears. 

The next morning, much to everyone's confusion, Bruce marched straight up to Loki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hugged him tightly. 

[judediangelo75]

Bath Time

A/N: This is gonna be based on the years after Hogwarts, just a few months after graduation.

It’s also going to be based on the “Physical One-Liners”. I feel like in the privacy of their own space, Talbott turns a bit more... mischievous, which both surprises and flusters Judith to no ends.

If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read. Just that simple. Anywho...

Enjoy!

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

Judith never felt more happy to leave St. Mungos. While she did enjoy her job, and spending time with her long time friend Chiara, she was beyond exhausted. Not in the mood to walk home, the young woman decided to fly home instead.

Quickly ducking into a dark alley, she transformed into her Black Sparrowhawk and flew off. Flying has always been one of her small joys in life. It reminded her of the times with her father, where he would teach her the basics of flying. It also reminded her of her time at Hogwarts. Attending Flying Class with Madam Hooch and playing on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Most of all, it reminded her of her long time boyfriend, Talbott Winger. He was the one who helped her become an Animagus and teach her how to fly in this form. It was one of the ways the two bonded.

After they graduated, they got a small apartment together. After Judith graduated, her mother promptly kicked her out. Talbott was boiling on his girlfriend’s behalf, but she urged him to let it go. Judith always knew she wasn’t wanted by her mother, so he spoke to Dumbledore about ways to support herself after. He offered to pay her during her last year, which helped out a lot.

Now she was free to live her life the way she saw fit. And be with the love of her life.

It wasn’t long until Judith landed in front of her home and she transformed back. Pulling out the key from her purse, she opened the door and walked in.

She was minorly surprised to find Talbott inside as well, who was just taking off his shoes and placing them near the front door.

“Hello, little bird,” he greeted with a small smile. Judith blushed and smiled back.

“Hello, my love,” she said back, walking up to him. She carefully got on her toes to give the young man a peck on the lips.

Well, it was suppose to be a peck on the lips.

Talbott ended up wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her to his chest. Craning his head a bit lower, he pressed his lips against hers more firmly. Judith let out small giggle and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Talbott groaned softly, gently pushing Judith against the door. A shudder wracked Judith’s body as she felt Talbott’s teeth softly sink into the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Her eyes shoot open when she felt his larger hands press into her lower back. Talbott released her lips, red eyes half lidded and a lazy smirk on his full lips.

“You seem a little tense darling,” Talbott drawled, running a hand up and down the length of Judith’s back. A blush blossomed on her face, causing his smirk to grew a fraction wider.

“It’s... uh, it’s been a long day,” she mumbled, finding Talbott’s chest suddenly interesting. A chuckle rumbled from the back of his throat.

“You don’t say? Come on, darling. Let’s take a nice bath together.” Judith’s breath hitched as her blush worsen. 

Talbott tried his best not to laugh at his little bird’s expression. Ever since they left Hogwarts and all the stressors behind, he’s been seeing a different side of Judith.

She was more free. Happier. Carefree.

He’s seen bits and pieces of this side of her at Hogwarts but not often. He found this side of her to be so beautiful...

And if he was being brutally honest... it was sexy as well.

The girl would be more free with what she wears and would sometimes sing and dance to the music she has playing as she cleans.

He has walked in a few times where Judith was slowly swaying her hips slowly to the beat of a song as she cleaned, wearing nothing but a tube top and some short shorts. It never fails to put him in a trance as he watched how Judith seems to become one with the music. Especially when she tranced the length of her body and curves with her hands. His body temperature never failed to spike at the sight she created. 

The only way he’s forced to snap out of his daze is when Judith finally acknowledges his presence with an embarrassed squeal.

However, last time was particularly bad. Talbott didn’t know what kind of magic Judith casted on herself for her to move her waist the way she did, but Talbott was sure it had to be from the Dark Arts. What she did should’ve been illegal. Talbott never stared harder at something in his life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdOFz0Lsfbo

Even after Judith after squealed out of surprise, it didn’t arouse him from his stupor. The only thing he could think of was how his pants was tighter in an area that where it shouldn’t be.

The fact that Judith starts blushing and acts shy is what baffles him the most. She was extremely witty, sharp tongued, sarcastic, sassy, and petty. Rarely anything can render her mute.

Yet Talbott staring at her with a glimmer of desire in his eyes does the job just fine.

Talbott found this to be amusing, sometimes going out his way to tease her on purpose.

Lingering touches on her neck, shoulders, waist, and hips.

Spending extra time around her neck. Kissing, gently biting, and licking the sensitive skin.

Whispering in her ear in his sleepy voice.

Picking her up so she’ll be forced to wrap her legs around his waist.

Heated snogging sessions.

Hell, sometimes he would pinch her ass when she least expects it. Her scandalized blush never fails to make him laugh.

Being in the privacy of their own space made he feel a bit more open to be a bit more intimate with his little bird.

And Talbott knew she secretly liked this side of him. Judith could easily tell him to stop anytime and Talbott would do so immediately. But she hasn’t. 

Talbott wanted to see what she would say to taking a bath together...

“A-A bath? T-t-together,” Judith stuttered. She wasn’t sure why this was sending her heart into a frenzy.

‘Of course you do. You’ll in a bathtub with your boyfriend. No clothes, just soap and water.’ Judith really hated it when her own thoughts sass her...

“Of course, little bird... is that okay, darling,” Talbott asked, kissing her cheek. Judith bit her lip.

“Yeah... it’s fine...”

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

Judith was already in the tub. She was quick set up the bath and pick a body wash (vanilla which is her favorite). Not wanting Talbott to surprise her by silently watching her, she quickly stripped and hopped right in. 

She purposely added a lot of the body wash so the bubbles can hide her body.

‘Why the hell am I so bloody nervous? It not like he hasn’t seen what I looked like half naked...’

‘Because you sitting in this tub bare ass, woman. Plus you know this tub was made to fit two people, you’ll be literally pressed against him. And you know good and damn well you’re sensitive to his touch.’

‘You know, when I asked this, I didn’t need the sassy answer. I didn’t ask for an answer at all.’

‘Cry me a river.’

“Well aren’t you eager to take a bath?” Judith snapped out of the mental argument with her subconscious to find Talbott towering over her in just towel.

Judith blushed, forcing her eyes on her boyfriend’s face and not his lean muscular body-

“I didn’t want the warm water to go to waste by waiting on you, bird boy,” she retorted. Talbott raised a brow, a teasing smirk on his.

“You know, you’re right. Scoot over for me, darling...” Judith did what she told, averting her gaze when she noticed Talbott’s hand moving to undo the knot of his towel.

She didn’t look back at him until he was submerged. She regretted doing so, seeing how his smirk widen.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, kissing her cheek. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her absolute best not to pout.

“I’m not flustered,” she mumbled under her breath. The devious spark flashed in Talbott’s eyes.

“Oh really?” Judith didn’t have time to respond as she pulled to sit on Talbott’s lap, facing him.

“How about now,” he asked innocently. Part of Judith was cursing Talbott seven ways til Sunday, the other part of her headed straight down the gutter.

“You are truly something, Winger,” she answered instead, glaring at him.

“I know, but you love me regardless,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled, kissing him to do just that. Talbott accepted the kiss wholeheartedly, nipping his girlfriend’s lower lip. Despite the warm water lapping against her skin, Judith could still feel goosebumps breaking out on her skin.

Damn her sensitivity.

Judith quickly broke the kiss before it could turn into something more.

“Where are you going, little bird,” Talbott asked quietly, his voice low and husky. 

“We’re suppose to be taking a bath! Not fooling around in the tub,” she retorted, cheeks rosy. Talbott nuzzled her neck, leaving a feather light kiss. Judith was quick to grip his shoulders to steady herself.

“Mmmm... of course, darling. Don’t worry I’ll take care of you...” Judith felt her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums as Talbott reached for the wash cloth.

‘He’s gonna kill me,’ she thought when he could feel his smirk on her neck.

Let’s just say by the time they finished, the bath water was cold and Judith was sporting quite a few love bites on her neck, shoulders and chest... 

[tcstu]

January’s Honorable Mentions

This month’s piece generated some incredible stories. I chose this work of art believing there were numerous tales buried within it, and I was not disappointed. Each entry took a completely different perspective on what is happening in this scene. If you enjoy one of the Honorable Mentions below, please let the writer know. I’m sure they would love to hear from you.

As a reminder, I celebrated the new year by featuring one of my favorite artists, @hydraart​​. If you’ve been following this contest, you may remember that this artist was also featured in January of 2019 and 2020. This seems to now be a New Year’s tradition, and I am happy to be able to continue it this year. If you would like to see the pieces previously featured by this artist, you can view them here:

January 2020

May 2019

January 2019

The piece for this month was titled, “Hide and Seek.” Here it is along with the Honorable Mentions for this month:

(These entries are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect a system of ranking.)

Untitled

Written by: @emilyelizabethfowl​

Ten

She couldn’t tell whether the breeze she felt came from nature or from Its wings.

Nine

At least she didn’t have to worry about the smell betraying her hiding spot.

Eight

Sound, however, was a different matter entirely.

Seven

But her legs were starting to feel numb…

Six

It certainly wouldn’t hurt to move them, just a little, would it?

Five

Just a teeny tiny little bit…

Four

Slowly, carefully, she stretched her left leg.

Three

Then, bringing it back, she stretched out her right one.

Two

But she did it too fast, too carelessly.

One

Losing balance, she fell down. Her elbow knocked into the giant sheet of metal she was hiding under, the sound carrying far.  

Zero

Barely seconds later, giant talons dented the metal, ripping it away easily.

Found you!

Aw, shucks.

She stood up, turning to face the creature.

“Best three out of five?” she offered.

It’s already past your bedtime. A deal is a deal.

Ah well. It was worth a try. She climbed the creature’s back, clinging tightly to the feathers longer than she was tall.

She’d win their next game for sure!

“Eleanor And The Great Bird”

Written by: @evanthenerd83​

“Do not move,” Eleanor whispers to herself, thin frame curled inward.

The flapping of wings drowns out her panicked breathing. Dust swirls around. Bits and pieces rain down, and they sound like bullet casings striking metal.

Eleanor could recognize the sound anywhere. It is as familiar as her grandfather’s wartime movies. Black and white visions of the dead.

“Do not move,” Eleanor reminds herself, eyes scanning the words scratched into the steel.

The great bird passes overhead, and the entire shard shakes with its might. She bites her lip. A moment of terrible silence.

It is circling around. Coming back.

“Do… not… move,” Eleanor repeats, unaware that it doesn’t matter.

The shelter is just a jagged piece of roof. It isn’t big enough to hide her, not all of her. Not her shadow.

And unfortunately, the sun is burning in her direction.

The great bird has locked on.

The great bird makes one last turn…

Sit Com

Created by @daalseth​ ( Doug Aalseth )

"Ma!!" came the anguished cry.

"What is it?" replied his mother, her voice drenched in fatigue.

"Billy smashed up my 172 scale model Medieval Human Village."

"Now Tommy..."

"It wasn't me," shouted Billy. "I wouldn't do nothing with your stupid model."

"Yes it was," shouted Tommy waving his wing at the table. "That's your feather laying right there."

"Nuh-huh."

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-huh."

Their mother rubbed a talon against her throbbing forehead. It was going to be a long day. Maybe it was time to just kick the little bastards out of the nest? She looked at the two chicks arguing. "No," she said softly, "I'll give it one more day."

“Whatever It Takes”

Written by: @winterrose42​

I dug my fingers deep into the ground as I curled tighter into myself, squeezing my eyes shut in a vain effort to concentrate. This had to work- in the end it’s all I could do, whatever God that’s left forgive me. I could feel the beast looming impossibly large behind me, breath wuffing over the ruined plains like winds before a storm. A low growl thundered from its throat and I dug harder even as my fingernails protested and bent from the dirt being shoved underneath them. I couldn’t fail. I had to find them, and to do that I needed to make it out alive. To do that…

I felt it suddenly, claws slicing easily into the dirt deep enough that I’m sure someone could make a bomb shelter of it later. The tips of its heavy wings brushed the uneven ground, dragging stone and steel along as they swayed in rest. Feeling the pull of its head was the worst; it had seen me that much I knew, darting from toppled building to ruined tower to hastily put up shelter as  fast as my legs could carry me had not been fast enough. It’s great shriek had nearly deafened me as it shook the earth landing just a few yards away from where I had crouched. The few warriors who had gathered to head off the beast- they all knew in their hearts they hadn’t a chance of making it.

That’s what I kept telling myself as the beast’s arm raised and came crashing down to sweep away fallen debris and lean to steel sheets and scattered weapons, armor and men alike, leaving them to try and bury themselves yet again. Collect their wits and reorganize perhaps. I couldn’t afford to give them that chance. Setting everything in motion the wings swept back, the arms came up, the eyes focused forward, sharp beak opening wide with vocal chords straining to make its signature call- and so it was done.

All at once I severed the connection, feeling impossibly small and weak and useless once again as the ground shook like an earthquake with the speed at which the beast fell, screaming its indignation at being puppeted for as long as it had, intelligent eyes snapping forward to those running for better cover, myself sitting still and forgotten for the moment in light of more easily accessed prey. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, whispering out a prayer of forgiveness to carry on the artificial wind for those who cared to hear it.

Eventually the shaking ceased, noise quieted, beast placated if only for a moment making it possible to crawl out and stand up though I dared not turn around. Sticking to the irrational belief that my imagined carnage was worse and therefore I was absolved of blame I squared my shoulders and turned west.

I had survived and would continue to do so through whatever means necessary. I would survive. And I would find them.

Maran-do

Written by: @spoldhamindieauthor​ (S.P. Oldham)

Maran huddled beneath the toppled roof of a ruined dwelling, sitting now upon the ground, broken and battered. All of the buildings in this tiny hamlet told a similar story; one of destruction and wrath.

Maran heaved a silent sigh. He had sent out Maran-do, his mind partner, when the day was still bright, her task to bring down anyone he had not dispatched. Very few would be daring enough to try to evade her. It would take a remarkable being indeed to slip past Maran-do unnoticed, avoiding her wicked talons. He had never known it happen yet.

Maran-do hung in the air now like a dark, oppressive shadow. She had been the foretelling of death for so many souls, Maran had long since stopped counting.

He had never imagined she would foretell his own death, too. Maran frowned, trying to recall such a thing happening before. What could possibly cause a mind-partner to turn upon its host? It was unheard of.

He knew the tiniest movement would be enough to alert her to his whereabouts. Resisting the urge to break cover and run, Maran struggled with ordering his thoughts. That was the biggest problem. Maran-do was inside his head as well as outside it. She knew his own mind better than he knew it himself.

How could he possibly escape? Wherever he went, Maran-do would go with him. Why had she turned on him? In a rare moment of self-pity, Maran gave a sniff.

It was enough. He could feel the air outside shifting, darkness looming over his hiding place like an unstoppable, oncoming storm. For the briefest instant, Maran felt the terror and utter helplessness so many had known before.

A large talon tapped impatiently before him. Inside his head, the words ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’ blossomed into life like clouds of puffed smoke, Maran-do taunting him with his own phrase.

“Why?” Maran breathed, “Why do you turn upon me?”

More words of smoke, ‘I am to be mind-partner to a greater one than you, little Maran,’ using the childhood endearment, ‘Your mind is weak. You take much pleasure from death and killing. I belong to a greater mind than yours,’ she repeated.

She raised her foot. Maran flinched as, above him, the beams and planks of the rough wooden roof began to splinter. Instinctively he crouched, making himself smaller, as if he could avoid being crushed.

He had just enough time to wonder how she could survive without his mind to host her. Then he was gone; snuffed out like a bare candle in a blizzard.

Maran-do stretched her wings, letting out a silent shriek as her head turned to the west. A new host awaited her, a new name forming in her mind even as she rose from the earth. A path of flight was shown to her fathomless mind, stretching like an umbilical cord across the skies.

Maran was dead.

So was Maran-do.

Tethered

Written by: @wildler

I heard the spirits before I saw them—their strangled moans carrying through the smoke-stained air. Carys whinnied beneath me, her ears twitching in all directions.

“Easy girl,” I murmured, stroking her neck. “Only a little further. Should be the next clearing.”

The sound continued, growing stronger as we pushed closer to where the village was rumoured to be. I tugged the hood of my cloak from my head, sweat sticking my hair to my neck. It seemed my limited healing skills had arrived too late to be of use—but my other skills—well, perhaps I would return to the king with something more substantial than rumours at last.

We entered the clearing, the devastation hitting me like a sword to the gut. Homes had been scalped, gutted and burned. Their charred remains left crumbling into the earth. Spirits inhabited the ruins. Flickers of human outlines that cried out as they relived their violent, final moments of existence. Their fear keeping them tethered to this plane.

I dismounted Carys and pressed my hands to the ground, shuddering as the sweat on my neck turned cold. A haze of panic blanketed the site like thick smoke, making it impossible to get a sense of the events leading to its ruin. I sank my fingers into the soil and focused my will, trying again.

Sounds and smells came rushing at me, distorted screams on a hot jet of air. My eyes sprang open to find the spirits staring in eerie silence, their gaze passing right through me to something on the horizon.

I heard the presence before I saw it—a monstrous shriek carried on a blast of flame.  It was an end too terrifying and binding to escape.

And so, I relive it again.

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Nine, "The Perte"

Word Count: 7.6k /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad / Song: Carried Me With You by Brandi Carlile from Onward (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death

"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)"

- I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings

“Mum?” a voice comes, but it only drifts over the top, as if a bird over a courtyard of school children. I feel like one hovering over them, able to make out some words, but not all of them. When I try to focus harder, I catch a few more. “The last time, you said Daddy had that case with Uncle MyMy, but you stayed home, so what’d you do? Was that when you were pregnant with me?”

Quickly, I lifted my wings and soared back overhead, regretfully dipping to hear what I did. It came to me as a shock, and still it didn’t. I had made up excuses every night for the last few days to not have to continue telling this story, our story. Her siblings’ soccer games and our Sunday family dinner worked well for that, but the guilt could never escape me for long. It would only worsen when I stopped for a second to look into her eyes, a pair far familiar. Was it the cerulean blue shade that I saw in the mirror, or the glinting sunshine born from her father’s? This time, I let myself look and I realized again how she looks more and more like him every day. The almond eyes that wait patiently, the smallest of dimples accompanying her excited grin, and the dark chocolate curls falling around her face. Her stubbornness especially. Still, I wondered how much she knew, but even more, how much this would upset her. The truth.

“Becks?” it came and with it, a hand falling into my hair. The hammering of my heart that I didn’t notice starts to calm at the gesture, and the always safe sunshine that I find in his smile. Yet, I see it there, the knowing. The truth. “Do you want my help telling this one?”

“Please, Harry.”

Perte: loss, ruin, undoing; the act or fact of losing.

It all started with a jolt, and then a wave of pain. Stirring, I slowly came to, remembering that I was in bed. The feeling lingered and so did another one that I couldn’t ignore. I knew this feeling and the secretive one that accompanied it. My feeling. They both were instinctive to me, dating back to my earliest memories. Pain and wetness. At the realization, my sleep-doused eyes flew open. I wasn’t sure how long I lied there, feeling it all as I refused to do just that, to feel.

I thought that I knew before I did it, but when I reached my hand in between my legs, my wildest fears were confirmed. No, I knew I hadn’t wet the bed at the ripe age of twenty-whatever I was now. When I lifted it from the toasty warm covers, the morning sun pouring in past the shades confirmed my worst nightmare. The shock of smeared red stared back at me from my hand, and my heart plummeted into smithereens.

I wasn’t sure what I did first. Was it ripping the covers back to have it all confirmed for me? Or was it the wetness that flooded my eyes instantaneously, blurring the small red puddle that had formed underneath me? No, it was the one word that flew from my lips incessantly.

No.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

No.

No.

No.

Harry.

I’d never be able to retell what happened next because every second melted into each other, every single one unable to ever recount. And yet, at the same time, every second felt like a minute. Time slowed down at the one moment that it didn’t need to. Reaching for my phone felt like it took five minutes, and pressing his name in my contacts took longer.

I didn’t remember getting out of bed and settling onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom. It was a scene that I knew all too well, but no, not like this. I’d never thought it would be because of this, our baby dying instead of it reminding me it was alive by the way I’d knelt over the toilet, time and time again.

“Please, answer. Please,” the plea is thick and choked from my mouth, because it couldn’t be anything more. There is nothing more, so what would I even say if he answered. Part of me wished that he wouldn’t, because I can’t tell him. I can’t hear it in his voice, the-

“Hey, this is Harry. If you’ve gotten this far, it means that I missed your call. Sorry! Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you,” my favorite sound in the whole entire world greets my ears, and somehow, my reaction is to curl into myself further. To cry harder and louder. I don’t know what to say, and so I don’t.

It’s only a repeat when I dial his work phone, despite how he’d kept saying he meant to get rid of it. I find myself agreeing with him, seeing how he never answers it, when I press End yet again, fleeing from the terrifying sound of the electronic beep, knowing that there’s no way. I try once more and listen to his voice again, and his exclaimed sorry, knowing what two phone calls means. An emergency.

“Hello?”

“Skye,” it’s a sigh, and I don’t know where it’s come from. Maybe it’s just because somebody finally picked up.

“Ree? It’s nearly seven, you know I don’t get up this early.”

“I-I’m sorry, but-,” the words stop there, stolen away by the wave of pain attacking my abdomen. It spurs another sob from my chest, because I made the mistake again. When I pull my hand away this time, the red is darker on my palm. “Skye, I need you t-to come.”

“Why, is everything alright, Ree?”

“N-No,” I stammer, feeling the way my lips shake underneath the weight of my impending words. Much like the trembling of my fingers, a droplet of scarlet falling down my hand. “I think . . I think I’m l-losing the baby.”

“Oh my God,” something catches in her voice, and it opens a door inside of me. Anything and everything I’d been holding back storms out of them. My head feels twenty pounds heavier than a moment ago, only growing as I finally tip it to my fall against my knees. “H-Have you called Harry?”

“Yeah, b-but he’s due to be in court again. He didn’t answer.”

“Okay . . Well, I’m sure he’ll call back soon. D-Do you think you can drive yourself? If not-,” she begins, voice distraught with worry.

I try to ignore it, but it’s all too much coming at me. None of it compares to the sour feeling born in my gut when against my thighs I feel the little bump of my belly. Inhaling quickly, my lungs struggle for air as I sob again, aware of the growing wetness between my legs, “N-No.”

“That’s fine, not a worry. I’m grabbing my purse and putting on some clothes right now. I’ll be leaving in a minute and it shouldn’t take me long to get there. I’m sure everything will be alright, I’ve heard of women having spotting during their pregnancy, it’s-.”

“It’s not, Skye. There’s s-so much blood and I . . I just know,” all I see is blackness as the words tear a hole inside of me, one started just moments ago. Her voice is absent from my ears, but then something else replaces it. When I pull my phone away to see what it is, it’s torn bigger in my chest when his face grows hazy in front of me. “It’s Harry. I-I-.”

“Answer it. I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” my voice is small, and when I press the button and hear his voice, it’s nearly nonexistent. Because I know it’s not okay.

“Becks. Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t answer before, I just got to the courts building,” I hear it, the normalcy to his voice. The very thing that I’m going to crush when I say those words. There’s the murmur of voices around him, and with a shaky breath, I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Why does it always have to be so wrong and unfair? Our whole entire relationship was riddled with it, and it’s not- “Honey, you still there? I see you called twice, is everything okay?”

My head is shaking and I don’t even notice it at first. Neither did I decide to keep my crying silent, knowing that he’d pick up on it. He would know with the first word and at the sound of my voice that something was really wrong. I didn’t want to do that to him. Sometimes, and especially at first, I knew that he’d wanted this more than me.

“Alright, Becks? . . You’re worrying me, bug,” he continues, and suddenly, the voices around him are gone. I hear another, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. I know them, though. “I know, My, just give me a minute, alright? It’s important. Becks, are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

No drink of water could cure the dryness of my throat, or wash away the knot that had grown in it. How? In this whole entire world of words, how could I tell him? Even at the beginning, I’d never wanted to hurt him, because it brought me pain too.

“No,” the word comes, and I felt guilty that I had been thinking it more than the one all of this was about. The next one I needed to say. Baby. “I don’t think . . the b-baby’s okay,” only now did I realize the galloping of my heart or the itchy warmth that had climbed my entire body.

“Becks,” his voice comes quicker than I thought it would, and so is the way it drowns in the feelings that I placed there. Because, after all, this is my fault for having to say those words.

Prints of red become permanent on my shirt when my shaking fingers settle on the roundness of my stomach at last. My lips refuse to stay still, even when they sing from pain when they press tightly to each other, “You need to come home, Harry- You h-have to.”

His intake of air is unmistakable, much like the next course of agony that wraps around my abdomen suddenly. I unhide them now, letting my cries free to the air, and to his ears. It’s to my surprise and all others that I let spill the very thing we both knew was happening, but I couldn’t say. How I’d said it for the first time to Skye, I didn’t know, especially now that it felt like the first time, all over again.

“I th-think I’m l-losing the baby, Harry-.”

“You don’t know that,” his usual molasses voice is stretched thin with tears filling its numerous cracks.

“But I do,” I whisper, unable to get my chest to stop shaking.

“C-Can you get yourself to the . . to the hospital, do you think?” it only makes my body shake harder, the sound of his voice drowning in the sadness that I’d caused.

“Skye’s on her way.”

“Good, good . . ,” he trails off, sniffles replacing his voice. I don’t know which is better, or how to even decide that. “I haven’t seen the judge come in yet, b-but I’ll . . I’ll grab him when I do and tell him what’s going on- or see if Myles could manage on his own. It’s a two and a half hour drive, though.”

“It’s okay.”

“But it’s not, Becks,” he almost wails, and the hole grows wider at the sound of him breaking.

“I know it’s not, Harry, but . . I don’t think two and a half hours is going to make any difference.”

“You can’t say that, because you don’t know. What if there’s something they could do to save them? To save t-the baby?” the next crash through my middle doesn’t even compare to the agony coursing through my body at the sound of his voice. It all only piles onto each other, and I wish I could make it stop. That I could end it all.

“There’s too much, Harry . . too much blood . . for them to be okay. I-I just know it.”

The smell of tears had long ago surrounded me, and now his miserable sobs fills my ears.

“I’m so s-sorry, Becks.”

“You don’t have to be. You didn’t d-do anything, Harry,” I try, but I can’t. My voice won’t go any louder, despite the shouting aches of my heart. The background pleas my mind makes.

Please be okay, baby. Please somehow be okay. For us. We want to meet you so badly. We already love you so much.

“But I-I should be there, Becks, not two bloody hours away.”

“I’m not even four months, Harry, i-it’s common.”

“Stop,” he sighs, and I never knew it could be so painful, a simple word. A breath, that to keep breathing could prove so laborious.

“I want to, and I wish I could, but it’s t-the truth. Deep down, I know it,” it continues to pour out, and I’m unsure of how to stop it. I wish I had the key to lock the door and make it all do just that, to stop.

“Becks,” Harry cries.

“Harry.”

“I don’t want to hang up, b-but I have to talk to Myles so I can leave a-and come . . come home.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper, the appearance of our bathroom materializing before me. Those are the furthest from my mind when my head dips and I see that color again, knowing what sits underneath it. Our baby.

“I-I’ll call you back once I’m leaving, okay?”

I try to say that word, but my lips won’t move. No, not when the pain becomes constant inside of me, drawing blood from my lip underneath my teeth.

“I love you, Becks.”

“I love you . . Harry,” I croak, hearing the words repeated inside of my head, and then they come through the phone.

“I love you, little baby, so much. Mommy and Daddy love you more than anything in this world. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise, Becks, it will be. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be home soon, t-text me with updates. Love you, buggie.”

I listen to the dial tone, knowing already that it never will be. No, we had come back from hell too many times now. I knew we wouldn’t make it again, maybe him, but not me. As I listened to the sound of the door opening downstairs and Skye’s subsequent shouting of my name, my eyes couldn’t unglue themselves from my belly. And I couldn’t stop thinking that there was no way in hell that I could ever feel okay again, knowing that our baby was dying inside of me.

It didn’t register with me, the voice needling at my ears until I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Hare, what is it?”

“Wh-What?” my reply is lost on my lips, immediately stammered. Jolting around, I didn’t think anything could shake me after that, but another wave comes at the shadow that comes across his face.

“Hey, what’d Becky say?” Myles asks frantically, his hand cupping my shoulder. I just blink, it’s all that I can do, staring at him. It feels like I’ve forgotten how to speak, and suddenly, how to stand, as well. “Harry, watch it- Here, sit down.”

I hear the piercing squeak of the chair dragged across the floor, but it’s just that, it doesn’t reach me. His figure crouched in front of me is blurry, but as the tepid wetness graces my cheeks, I realize it’s for more than one reason.

“Hare-.”

“I-I don’t understand, everything was . . ,” but they catch in my throat and stop there. “Everything was perfect.”

“You don’t understand what? What’s happened, mate?” he continues, urgency propelling his voice forward. It had taken me a while, but I remember it, the woozy feeling that had covered me like a darkness the second she’d said those words. I’m unsure if it could ever be lifted- no, not by anybody but her.

“Becks-,” I mutter, getting to my feet, but that wasn’t a good idea, I soon find.

“H-Hey, sit down, would you? Take a minute to collect yourself. You still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time, My’. I need t’ get home.”

“Why, Harry?” Myles asks, grabbing hold of my arm when I’ve already taken a few steps. “Hey, would you mind telling me what the hell’s going on here? We have a case to argue in twenty minutes, Hare. I’ll understand if you need to go, but can you at least tell me why?” it’s monumental, the look that knits his features together when I turn around again. Another bout of tears splashes onto my cheeks, and my lips shake from what I know I’ll have to say.

“My’,” I begin, but that’s the furthest that I can get. The tears have already swallowed that first syllable, and threaten to steal any more.

“Hare,” his voice, the one I know better than almost any other, is but the wisp of a feather. At that thought, her smiling face appears in my mind, and my chest shakes at the remembrance of hearing her break from the inside just now. “It’s not- is it the baby?”

My head is nodding wildly before I can think of what to say. I don’t bother with it, because suddenly the little air left in me is whisked away when his arms come around me. Apologies fly from his lips as tears coat mine. It’s all a blur wetted by tears and rushed with words, and before I know it, I’m looking at him over my shoulder as I walk away. Her beautiful face is stuck behind my eyes, the very day that we first heard our baby’s heartbeat. Something I may never get to hear again, and a smile I fear I’ve seen the last of.

It was more than a mess, trying to figure out where the hell I was going whilst the morning commuters plugged the freeways. But after I put Home in my GPS and got going, I was on my way, unsure of how I’d survive the next two and a half hours knowing what I did. Being on my way to one of my worst nightmares, and yet, I couldn’t get home fast enough. I’d be by her side with a snap of my fingers, if only I could.

The blunt ringing of my phone fills the empty car around me, that is until the sound of my heart in my ears returns at the sound of her voicemail. Fuck. No, Becks, please answer. I need to hear your voice, know that you’re okay- No, wait, you’re not. How could you ever be? I don’t even know if I am, or if I could be. I- The first hint of relief graces my lungs when the trill of my ringtone sounds, her name appearing on the touchscreen.

“Hello? Becks?”

“Hey, Harry. Sorry, it’s me.”

“Oh. Um, hi, Skye. Where’s Becks?” I nearly demand, holding back a curse when I pull up on the rear of a Ford Explorer, hastily changing lanes.

“She’s in the exam room. I just stepped out to take your call. There’s a nurse in there speaking with her, and doing well, an exam. She’s assessing, as she said, how soon she needs to see a doctor.”

“What d’ya mean how soon she needs t’ see one? I bloody well reckon she should be seein’ one now!” the words explode from my lips, nearly echoing inside the car with me.

“They’re her words, Harry, not mine. I told them the same exact thing, but- I dunno, it’s their protocol or something, she said. Beats me what’s priority to them in the Emergency Room.”

“I’m sorry,” I hardly can hear myself, making me unsure if she did, too.

“It’s fine. Um, are you on your way?”

“Yeah, I should be there in a little over two hours. Fuck, could this bloody bus go any faster?” I exclaim, pounding a hand on the wheel in exasperation.

“It’s okay, Harry, just get here safely. You know that’s all Becky would want.”

“But ‘s not, Skye, ‘s not-,” the sentence snaps there, dangling from my lips, as a tear does the same from the tip of my nose. Something cracks in my chest, thinking the thoughts that I’m unable to pack away. “We’re s’posed t’ be parents in five months. We bought a crib and all these clothes, picked out names. I-.” She’s not the one to interrupt. No, it’s me who does the honors.

“‘m stupid, aren’t I? Fer never thinkin’ it could happen? Th-They were this . . this miracle baby who came outta nowhere and picked us t’ be their mum and dad, and now . . ,” I don’t know what to say, because what is there? I don’t blame her for the following silence, one that I fill with my thunderous sobs, accompanied by her own.

“You couldn’t have known, Harry, neither could she. I-It’s not something you’d ever want to think about. You two did everything right, a-and I wish I could say something to fix it all, because I’ve never seen her like this except when . . when it was you, Harry. But you made it, and I don’t think the baby w-will. I dunno how she’ll make it back from this, she’s wanted to be a mum since before I met her. It’s all she’s been able to talk about lately, and everything she’s bought has been f-for them . . everything she’s done . . I’m so sorry, Harry,” her words catch on something inside of me, pushing the tears out faster as I wait at a red light, pressing my fist against my mouth.

“Go back in there and take care o’ her . . ‘til I-I can, Skye. Please, would you do that fer me?”

“Of course, Harry.”

The radio show I’d had on earlier this morning replaces her voice in the speakers, but it doesn’t fill the thoughts drilling holes into my skull. My lips ache from the pressure of my teeth against them, but it doesn’t pass when I let my hand fall. Neither does the weight inside of me as I twirl it around my ring finger, wanting more than anything to be at her side, and knowing that I dread it too. She’d found it at a shop from our outing that Saturday when we picked out the crib, a memory I remember with tears clinging to my eyelashes. I loved it the second I’d laid eyes on it, the way the tawny gold fit against my skin, several miniscule amethyst stones set into the band. Its twin had sat below her engagement ring ever since, and at the thought of twirling it around her finger, I pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

I didn’t think I could feel my heart anymore. It had long ago run a race into oblivion, but it felt somewhere between my stomach and my feet by this point. Like a hat, it dropped lower at the sight of that wild head of hair I spot in the hall on the OB floor. For some reason, my feet skid to a stop and I’m just staring at her. Dread had already begun to fill my veins when I walked through those sliding doors and past people in scrubs, but now, it douses my insides entirely. The cold metal of my keys greets my hand when it escapes into my pocket, not knowing where else to go as my eyes scan the nearby rooms. She’s in one of them, isn’t she? Waiting for me?

The hand that rubs across my face does little to wash away the emotions painting it, but it wouldn’t matter, because of the ones drenching my insides. I don’t know why I stand there for a moment, knowing that collecting myself is far gone. My lips chapped from the February cold sting when met with the newest round of tears drowning the sights in front of me. I welcome it somehow, not knowing when they’ll ever stop.

“Which room is hers?” my question comes, and so do her exhausted eyes over to me.

Quickly, they flit to the closed door behind me. My next breath catches on my lips when her eyes meet mine and tell me everything I hadn’t yet known. Words pour out of them with every second that passes, and my eyes only fill with more tears.

“How is she? You hadn’t texted . . in a while,” I try to keep my voice steady, but I lost that ability hours ago. Pressing my taut fist to my lips doesn’t help as she readies her words.

“There wasn’t much to update,” Skye begins in a hushed voice, one I’ve rarely heard. She was always Becks’ nutty friend to me, never down to earth, no. “She wanted to wait for you until they did the tests, t-the ultrasound but . . they’ve made her comfortable for now and managed her pain . . It was a lot of blood, Harry, it doesn’t look too good. I’m really sorry.”

It’d been hard to hear from the get-go, and already I’d looked away, feeling it all with every second. It only grew worse as my eyes stopped on that door, her words sinking in as I dwell again on the fact that I wasn’t there when she got here. All I can do is nod my head before walking away, not wanting her to wait another moment.

The room was bathed in darkness when I pressed the door closed behind me. There wasn’t even the beeping I was used to in these places, the first time with her and then with me. A silence I’d never be able to forget clung to the walls and left a coldness in my veins. The only warmth I could make out is that of the wetness running faster down my cheeks when I see her. My sudden intake of air is the only sound, save for her soft breaths that I listen to for a few moments too long. I was sure she was asleep, and I hated to even think of waking her and bringing her back into this nightmare I’d walked into. The last thing I wanted to do was have her wake up to it again, because even asleep, I knew she would rather stay there.

I don’t blame her, because I have to turn away after a few moments, realizing that all of this is real. I’d been driving for hours, but it hadn’t sunk in, because how in the hell can it? All of a sudden, it dawns on me and I struggle to keep my crying quiet. My feet begin to lead me away and towards the door, but an icy cold roots me to the spot at the sound I hear.

“Harry?”

For a split second, I debate picking my feet back up and leaving, although I’m not sure why. Another fissure courses down my heart at the sound of her voice, my very favorite one in the entire world. It had been a long time since I couldn’t pick out the tone in her voice, and now, I almost wish I couldn’t. With a sigh, the will drains out of me and I’m turning around, preparing myself to see her again, but for real this time. Nothing could, I realize, when I see the glint already covering her eyes, drowning my favorite color out. The very eyes that I’d hoped now for years that our kids would have, and at that thought, a sob escapes my lips.

“H-Hi, lovebug,” I whisper with a hand carding into her hair. My voice shakes with the new sob tearing its way through my chest. Her lips are absent of words, but her eyes are the least bit that. Her silence is torn away by an awful sound leaving her lips, creasing her face in pain. I do what I know best, and surround her with my arms.

All words escape me, my entire vocabulary, and it’s no plight that a dictionary could fix. No, an entirely new language sits between us now, found in our cries and our hands. The taste of saltwater clings to my lips as I chase breaths, wishing for the sweet relief that doesn’t come when I hook my chin over her head.

I could feel it, every last bit. Her tears hot with rage and sadness racing down my neck, and the way her lungs burned from gasped breaths, only because so did mine. The vanilla and orange blossom scent of her hair did nothing to bring me back down. No, it only reminded me of the first memories I had of the scent, and how it was of the hospital when my grandpa was dying. How come we always made it back here, to a fucking hospital? We hadn’t even been together two years, and we’d already been to one three times now. It wasn’t even for- No, I wouldn’t get to leave with her this time holding a car seat with our baby tucked into it.

The next breath runs away from me at that thought, and I race after it, unable to stop thinking about the should’ve-beens. We should’ve been having our four-month ultrasound next week once I’d gotten back from a case I should’ve won. No, Becks and I should’ve been reading a few more pages from the baby name book tonight over the phone, writing down a few. Now, we wouldn’t. I wouldn’t get to curse my way through installing a car seat into the Rover, and placing a burrito-wrapped baby into it. Neither would I get my question answered, my dream come true of our baby having Becky’s eyes, something I’d wanted so badly. Dreamt about, even. As her ragged hiccups met my neck, I held onto her waist tighter, realizing I hadn’t gotten to feel the baby kick. I never would, now. We’d never meet our baby, one Becks sure was a girl. Our little Annie Styles.

I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten into the bed with her and pulled her against me, somewhere in between remembering the baby shower my sister was planning and when Becks bought our baby’s first outfit. It was one of the few strong memories I had of when I was in this very hospital, the one that we’d come back to every time, the fucking place. We hadn’t for the ultrasounds and prenatal visits, we just couldn’t. I’d almost lost Becks here and she’d almost had me torn away from her. Now, we’d say goodbye to our baby here too.

No words had been said still, and yet, dozens had been cried into each other’s necks. She wasn’t falling back asleep as my fingers traced lines through her hair. An emptiness sat hollow in her eyes like I’d never seen before, and she didn’t answer my touch or voice. Everything was wrong, I felt it in my bones. But she answered my lips when I pressed them to her forehead, instantly feeling her lean into them. No more was the sight of her puffy, red eyes and distraught face as it escaped to my neck. Even if I couldn’t see or hear them, I felt the tremors that coursed through her body as more tears painted the crook of my neck. It was then that there was a knock on the door and we turned to stone.

Nothing could surprise me by now, but the hands on the clocking telling me I’d been here for an hour already sure did. Another one ran through me with a shock when I saw the familiar face step into the room.

“Dr. Baker?” my quick question came, but when my eyes flit to Becks, the surprise wasn’t an emotion on her face. No, every other one was, but not this one.

“Please, you can call me Beth. I’m at this hospital today and when I heard that Becky had come in- well, I thought it’d be easier to have a familiar face around.”

Nodding is my first instinct, but when I don’t hear a peep from Becks, I know that I need to take over. Words struggle to come from my lips though, because what do I say? I freeze up entirely when my eyes move to the ultrasound machine in the corner, and suddenly, I realize what her appearance means.

A ‘thanks’ barely drops from my mouth when hers part, “Would the two you of like some more time or-.”

“No, you can do it now,” her voice is barely there, but I’m taken aback by it. When I look back to Becks, the exhaustion weighs heavy in her eyes, the very pair that won’t meet mine.

“You’re sure, Becks?” I ask softly, feeling my face squish together in question. A sudden one, at that.

“Yeah, let’s get it over with,” my fiance mumbles.

“Are you sure you’re both ready?” Dr. Baker goes on to say, making sure. I’m not but I nod along, regretfully peeling myself away from Becks to sit at her side.

I don’t know how it went unnoticed, but the tears have already made their return down her cheeks. The sound of them sends another tear down my heart, especially when they worsen as Dr. Baker exposes her belly. My very favorite one, the one I’d gotten to watch grow over the last almost four months, even if only in the slightest. It sent a wild ache through me, the slight curve to her stomach below her belly button, where our baby had been growing. I didn’t know that it could, but this sends tepid ones down my previously drying cheeks. Her hand is clammy in my own, and as I watch her cover her eyes, I draw constant circles into her skin.

The blank screen of the monitor stares back at me, and I’m quickly made aware of the sourness growing in my gut. The memories of the previous times I’d seen this machine, and how happy I’d been those times. How happy the both of us had been, because we’d gotten to see our baby, no matter how small and to hear its heartbeat. Now, those were both things I doubted entirely, and I didn’t think I was ready. No, I wasn’t ready this morning to wake up to a day that would mar my life, standing out from all of the rest as the day we had a miscarriage. I wasn’t ready for this any more than when I’d almost lost Becks just days after getting to love her as I’d wished to.

But I have to be, even if I’m not, because the love of my life is lying in the bed next to me breaking into pieces, and I’m going to have to hold her together somehow. No, Harry, you can’t break too. You can’t. But as the doctor explains that she’s going to look for a heartbeat for the reason we all know why, I know that I’d never be able to prepare myself for this. And as Becky’s sobs worsen beside me at the sound of the doctor’s regretful words, I don’t waste any time pulling her back into my chest, soaking up her miserable cries. I still heard them in my ears but all I could do was stare ahead as the sight of the city outside the window blurred before me, my love’s wails muffled against my chest. It could never soften the blow of the words though, the very one’s the doctor just spoke. The very ones that made my heart leave that space between my stomach and my feet, and drop to the floor in a blink. My stomach too, making all of the air whooshes out of me.

I can’t find a heartbeat . . I’m so sorry for your loss.

I’ll give you both some time before I come back to talk about what happens next.

How? How could this happen? I asked myself that over and over as I held her tighter to me, feeling the way her entire body convulsed with the sobs. They were the kind of cries I knew that stole every breath from your chest because you couldn’t cry any harder if you had it in you. I knew because they soon broke my insides apart when she began to cry my name, and then the word that had brightened our conversation for months now.

The baby.

Annie.

I’d already given up on trying to keep my cries quiet, especially as I could barely hear my own over hers. By now, the front of my button-down was already soaked through from her crying, and I surely had done a good number on her gown. Still, I wasn’t sure when I’d ever catch my breath again, not even how many minutes later when she finally looked at me again, every ounce of happiness ripped away. It felt as if the same emotion had been dripping out of my broken heart, never to be seen again. No, how could it?

“I love you,” my murmured words come, breathed against her forehead before a kiss there. Her reply is marked by sniffling and the hiccups that haven’t left her.

“I love you t-too,” she sighs, using the last breath inside of her.

“I wanna say it’ll all be okay, but . . but I don’t t-think I can,” I whisper against her skin, feeling the tears escape my eyes, despite the way I shut them tightly. “Not right now.”

Her hiccups had always been cute, adorable even. Something I’d give her crap for when she’d gotten them randomly, attempting to scare them out of her. We’d try all of the silly remedies, but they’d never work.

Now, I remembered she’d get them when she cried so hard it almost hurt. “Me too,” her ragged voice replies. “Our baby, Harry, th-they’re gone. Why?” she sobs, leaning into me, and I against her. Burying my nose in her hair and being met by her calming scent doesn’t work this time.

Her hands relax on my back, letting go of the clutches of my blazer she hadn’t dropped this entire time. Likewise, my hands burned when I let go of her scratchy hospital gown, smoothing her hair back. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d already pressed my lips to her forehead, and the subsequent times they scattered more across her face. No matter, I couldn’t stop the tears leaving her eyes, the pair that stared past me and off into the distance. Nor could I cease the ones pouring from my eyes, even if they were quiet now.

“Are you in any pain, bug?”

Her head shook from side to side, although belatedly. Her cries had quieted at moments too, that is until her head dove back against my chest, and they returned. I held her there, pressing my lips to her head and closing my eyes, being sucked back into my thoughts.

The should’ve-beens made a regretful comeback, and as each one paid a reminder to me, so did a tear down each cheek. The old dresser we’d already filled two drawers of clothes with. The tiny sandals and Nikes in there somewhere, blue Vans and pink Converses for whatever color they may like. A canvas print bearing ‘Baby Styles’ had hung on the wall in the other guest bedroom for months now, a surprise present from my mum that she’d painted herself. Slowly and without us knowing, that room had turned into their nursery, despite the absence of a crib or much more. Ronnie had already given us handmedowns of Harper and Ollie’s - stuffies, clothes, a baby carrier, a crib mobile, and newborn hats that still amazed me at their tinyness.

Each one spurred a new sob from me, the next one is harder than the last. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever stop, nor did Becks’. Each time I thought I was close to relief, my lungs burned from another memory that stole my breath away. The framed sonogram on my desk, the maternity photos we had planned in a few months, or the list of baby names in a shared Note on my phone. I wondered which of the same memories spun through her head, and which one it was when her hands clung to me tighter.

“W-Was it me?”

“What?” I barely spit out, pulling back with a wish to see her face. She doesn’t let me though, continuing to hide it as I search for her. “What’d you say?”

“W-Was it me, Harry? C-Could it be my fault th-that-.”

“No, Becks, of course not. Don’t say that, buggie,” I can’t stop her soon enough, not even with the cries that adorn my words, wishing she’d stop.

“B-But-.”

“No ‘buts,’ you did everything right, Becks. Y-You ate healthy, exercised, slept, took the vitamins- you did everything right, honey. It’s not your fault. It’s not, I promise-,” I begin, but the stubbornness in my bride shines through, to no surprise.

“But what if I did, Harry? What if it’s m-my fault? I could never forgive myself, maybe you wouldn’t either,” she wails against my chest. No rubbing, hair playing, kisses, or singing can calm her, or even me.

“It’s not your fault, Becks, it’s nobody’s. You heard Dr. Baker, she said it’s never anybody’s fault, they don’t know w-why it happens- something just doesn’t work out,” I whisper into her hair, my lip singing from pain when my teeth sink into it. Anger courses through me as I wish over and over for the thousandth time already that I could wake up from this nightmare, and so could she.

I almost can breathe again when she doesn’t go on, making me ask into the open air the same questions. Why?

“Harry,” it’s a sigh, a whoosh of her breath leaving her lungs. “Wh-What if they knew?”

“Knew what, bug? Who-?”

“The baby . . What if- What if they knew that I d-didn’t . . want them at first?” her last few words catch in her throat, like a t-shirt on a sharp branch in the woods. No. Instead, it feels more like a thorn from a bush catching on your leg as you run through the bushes away from the path. I didn’t know how to navigate this. No, not even from the first second, because already we’d stepped off of the path, and I’m lost as can be.

“They didn’t, Becks,” I begin, shushing her arguments when they come, breaking even further when her sobs louden. “They couldn’t have known. You were a wonderful mother to them and already, you showed them so much love. That’s all they knew, I promise you that. We talked to them all of the time, read them stories, sang to them, and you fed them so much chocolate they’ll be a nine pounder-.”

There, I stop, because I realize what I’ve done. I hear it in my words and in her weeping, the step that I shouldn’t have taken. Without knowing, I spoke in present tense, and knew that I’d only made it worse. I reminded us of what we couldn’t have- what we wouldn’t have. What should’ve been. Should be.

Her ‘sorrys’ are sobbed against my neck slick with her tears, only making my hand rub the circles harder into my back. My throat burns, wishing for words to find so that I could make it all better, that I could fix this. Fix her, and me in the process, but for once, I can’t. We’d always been so close to losing something or each other, and now, we’d lost our only child.

It was all whisked away when a sound pulled me from the depths, and I gasped for air alongside her, turning my head towards the door. Dr. Baker strode back in quietly with the smallest of smiles, worry creasing her brow once more.

When somebody asked me later what had happened next, I could barely recount it to them. The doctor had come back in and discussed with us our options. Words I’d never wanted to hear coming up was a recurring theme today, one that I wish I could make it like it never happened, but I couldn’t. No, there was no getting rid of the wince when the doctor mentioned the remains of our baby. It didn’t help anything when she assured us that we didn’t do anything wrong, and that it wasn’t our fault. It didn’t remove the blame that stuck to me, unwilling to leave, and painfully, I knew it coated her insides even thicker.

It carried on in a blur and before I knew it, I was kissing her goodbye. A medical shower cap donned her head as tear trails painted her cheeks, unspoken words passing between us. With another kiss and whispered words of love, they whisked her away to the operating room, and I was left alone. All I could do was stare blankly around the room, wondering how all of this had happened. Unsure if I’d ever missed her as much as I did now. I had hardly blinked and suddenly, I was gasping for air as a new sob overwhelmed me. They said she’d be back in no time, the procedure wouldn’t take long, and we’d be able to go home tomorrow. Even that I feared, not knowing how anything would ever be the same- No, my life could never be the same again, or Becks’.

“Hello?”

“A-Are you still in town?” a whisper is all that I can manage, but already I know they hear what I try to hide. “I need you to come to the hospital. Saint Edward’s . . No, I’m okay. It-It’s the baby, we’ve lost them.”

[romansleftshoulderpad]

Take A Chance On Me

Ship: Royality

Word Count: 3,127

Warnings: Mentions of being horny, breakups

--

If you change your mind, I’m the first in line. Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me.

Patton had never been one for sunbathing, but he was rather inclined towards any activity that involved Roman. The warmth was like a blanket, keeping him cozy and safe (though Logan would warn quite the opposite, going on a lecture about the dangers of overexposure to ultraviolet rays). Patton was with Roman, that was safe enough for him.

“He just wasn’t my style, I guess,” Roman said, continuing on his rant. Patton was trying to listen, but the sun was putting him to sleep. He wondered if Roman would have to wake him with a kiss.

“What is your style?” Patton teased. “A knight in shining armor?”

“Hey, knights have to be strong under that armor. If a buff strong man wants to suplex me then he can go for it.”

“What if he has a frog face?”

Roman thought for a moment. “I can live with that. If he keeps his helmet on.”

Patton laughed, which made Roman laugh, which only made Patton laugh even harder. He moved his hand, letting it brush up against Roman’s. He wanted to grab his hand. He wanted to take his face and kiss him senselessly.

But the timing wasn’t right.

“Carlos sucks.”

Roman shrugged. “He’s fine. I don’t regret dating him or anything. I think it could’ve worked out if things were different.”

“Things?”

“If we were a year younger. If I didn’t know what I know now.”

“And what do you know now?”

Roman moved his hands to his chest- away from Patton- and looked to the sky. He didn’t answer, but Patton could hear him humming under his breath. It was a song he recognized from Into the Woods but he couldn’t think of a title. The two went back to cloud gazing and laid in silence. He closed his eyes, tucked under the warm blanket of sunlight, and tried to fall asleep.

If you need me, let me know, gonna be around

Roman and Patton had been friends for longer than either of them could remember. But what Patton does remember is years of movie marathons and blanket forts with a projector turning the ceiling into the galaxy. He remembers losing a tooth when they were ten and Roman pulling one of his own out in solidarity. He remembers that wasn’t a pretty picture.

He remembers being thirteen. He remembers clearing “Am I Gay quiz” from his search history time and time again. He remembers watching his friends start dating. He remembers thinking of Roman.

Roman was someone Patton always considered fortunate. Roman never had to come out, no one ever expected him to be one thing or another. Patton remembered when they were twelve and Roman told him about how he learned how to kiss in a game of spin the bottle.

Patton remembers feeling jealous. Not of Roman, but of those who had the honor of kissing someone so carefree.

The honor of kissing Roman so carefree.

He remembers being thirteen and laying by Roman’s side as Dumbo played on screen. He wasn’t watching, there wasn’t any point.

“Roman,” he whispered, “when did you know?”

Roman glanced at him in confusion. There wasn’t much light, but his braces shined from the television screen. “How did I know-“ Patton turned away. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, hey,” Roman whispered. He grabbed the remote and hit mute, giving them a moment of privacy. “You don’t, really. You just find someone attractive- and sometimes you don’t even know what that means- and you just... figure it out.”

“That sounds so simple but-“

“It’s not,” Roman sighed. “It’s not simple. But you’ll figure it out, okay?” Patton didn’t look convinced. “You have a whole lifetime to figure yourself out.”

Patton grabbed the remote, turning the volume back on and making it just louder than comfortable. “Thanks, Roman.”

If you’ve got no place to go, if you’re feeling down

He can still remember being angry, boiling with rage just after homecoming. He found Roman crying in the school parking lot. There was still an hour left of the dance.

“Roman?” he whispered.

“P- Patton, I- What are you doing here?”

“Roman, I’m here. What happened?”

Roman wiped at his eyes, stepping back into the shadows to try to hide. Nevertheless Patton knew that his cheeks were stained with tears and his eyes were red with pain. “He broke up with me,” he whispered. “At homecoming, of all things!”

“He’s an asshole and he doesn’t deserve you,” Patton said. “Can I hug you?”

Roman gave a weak nod and let himself fall into Patton’s arms. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to see me like that.”

“Roman, please, don’t apologize for feeling.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Patton said. “My date and I were going to go get ice cream. You should come, I think it’ll help.”

“I’m not going to third wheel on your date.”

“Oh, no, we’re just here as friends.”

“Still-“

“You need friends right now.”

“Okay,” Roman sighed. “Okay.”

Patton smiled and took his hand, walking him through the parking lot towards the only lit car around. “Roman, I want you to meet Logan.”

If you’re all alone, when the pretty birds have flown Honey, I’m still free Take a chance on me

It was March when Roman and Carlos broke up. It was mid-April now. The four of them were tucked up in Patton’s living room, watching the rain outside. Virgil, Patton’s new roommate, was half asleep with his head on Logan’s shoulder.

“Go fish,” he said, barely coherent.

“How are you this tired at three in the afternoon?” Roman teased, grabbing another card.

“Movin’s hard,” he yawned. “Logan, got any aces?”

“The only ace I have is myself,” Logan said. “Go fish.”

Patton grinned. “Logan made a dad joke!”

“Fuck.”

“Didn’t you move in a week ago?”

“Roman, be nice,” Patton said with a frown. “You can’t move in on day one.”

Virgil flashed him a smile and took a card. They continued playing for another hour or so before Virgil actually had fallen asleep. Roman and Logan had carried him off to his bed while Patton loaded up a movie. The storm was coming in harder and no one wanted to leave.

Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie

Patton smiled, quick to take Virgil’s place against Logan’s shoulder. He gave a fond sigh, accepting his fate. After knowing him for years, one simply grew accustomed to Patton’s displays of affection. (And, while Logan would never admit it, Patton’s friendship was the perfect way to stave off touch starvation.)

As the movie started, Patton could see the sad glances from Roman. He reached out and grabbed his hand, watching Roman’s eyes light up like the same old galaxy projector they’ve used for years.

If you put me to the test, if you let me try. Take a chance on me. Take a chance on me.

He had Roman exactly where he wanted him.

We can go dancing, we can go walking, as long as we’re together.

It was the first clear day in a week. Roman was stealing Patton from Virgil for all of it. They were hand in hand walking through the park on the way to Roman’s house. It was a perfect day.

Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better

When Patton and Roman were little they could lay in the same bed and feel all the space of the world between them. They were so small and the mattress was only a continent. But they’re bigger now, adults now, and the two of them on the same float drifting in the middle of Roman’s pool didn’t offer the same space. The sun was still beating down on them, but it felt different now. Their skin was still damp and Roman kept his arm around Patton’s waist to stay afloat. Patton could feel his breath on his skin.

It was hot. And Patton was dying.

He pressed his hand against the side of Roman’s face and moved even closer, smirking as he did so. He waited a moment for Roman to respond, loving the way he turned bright red. Patton held his breath and rolled off of the float, taking Roman down with him. When the resurfaced Roman’s hair was stuck to his face and he was coughing up water.

“You FIEND!” he yelled, splashing Patton with water. “Ugh! It’s in my nose! Fuck, it burns!”

Patton only continued laughing, watching Roman’s every movement. Behind him, things were blurry. They didn’t need to be focused on because Roman was there and he was the most important person alive.

Maybe he just needed to put his glasses on.

He swam over to Roman and grabbed his hands, pressing their foreheads together. “However can I make it up to you?” he teased.

“I-”

“Yes?”

Roman moved away, taking his hands back to himself. “I think we should, uh, dry off. I’m going to take a shower. If you want to too, you can- wait shit-” Patton almost felt bad for how flustered he was. Almost. “I just mean like after I’m done and-” He stepped out of the water, and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist.

“I know what you mean, Roman,” Patton said. “Go dechlorinate yourself.”

“Right,” Roman gave an awkward wave, hanging his swim trunks up on the towel rack and heading inside.

‘Cause you know I’ve got so much that I want to do When I dream I’m alone with you It’s magic

It was later that month when they saw each other again. It was different from their typical meetings, Roman had called him late at night. “Hey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Patton lied. He glanced at the clock. Just past one in the morning. He held back a yawn.

“I- It’s stupid, nevermind. I shouldn’t be bothering you right now.”

“Roman. You’re never a bother to me.”

There was a moment of silence, and Patton wondered in Roman had fallen asleep. All he could hear was breathing.

“Roman?”

“Do you, um, want to watch a movie? Like we used to?”

“We both know you’re not calling me at one in the morning just to watch a movie,” he said.

“Oh.”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair

He walked into Roman’s bedroom exactly twenty-seven minutes later. He slipped his shoes off and let himself fall into Roman’s bed. “Welcome back to childhood.”

Roman brushed his hand against Patton’s. “Yeah. Just like childhood.”

Patton wanted to grab his hand. He wanted to take his face and kiss him senselessly.

“So, why did you call me?” He decided to let that choice be Roman’s. “You must’ve wanted to talk about something.”

“I was thinking,” he admitted. “About Carlos.”

Patton felt something settle in his stomach. Something bad.

“And I don’t like thinking about him.”

“Are you upset about the breakup?”

“No,” Roman said. His fingers brushed against Patton’s again. “You know me. I don’t like to regret the past.”

“Do you regret the breakup?”

“No, Patton, stop.” He sighed. “I regret being with him. And I don’t like that.”

“Oh.”

“He was a rebound, I guess. A distraction. He loved me and I loved that. I loved the attention.”

“Sounds like a few old memories of mine.”

“I was too busy waiting for someone to love me back. And now, I’ve been waiting for so long that I don’t know if he’ll ever-”

“Roman.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

But I think you know

Roman moved so slowly and carefully. Patton held his cheeks in his hands and pulled him forward, kissing him like there was nothing else in the world.

That I can’t let go

“There isn’t a world where I don’t love you.”

“Oh,” Roman tiredly murmured. “Does that mean we can kiss again?”

Patton pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. “You need to sleep.”

“No, I don’t.” Roman yawned. “I need you.”

“I’m here for you, Roman.” Another kiss. “Now go to sleep.” And the world went quiet. And the world went black.

Oh you can take your time baby, I'm in no hurry, know I'm gonna get you You don't wanna hurt me, baby don't worry, I ain't gonna let you

They decided to wait a few days before telling everyone. Roman, however, wasted no time stealing every bit of Patton’s affection. “I’m starved,” he’d said. “I’ll die without your kiss, my love.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Roman’s cheek as he made pancakes. Roman was holding onto his waist, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder. “I love you, Princey.”

Roman hummed. “Love you too, Pattoncake.”

“Awww. Roman that’s adorable.”

“Only because you are.”

Patton squealed, turning around to hide his face in Roman’s chest. He was a blushing mess; he felt like Roman when they were merely flirting.

“Your pancakes are burning, darling.”

“Fuck the pancakes, my face is burning.”

Roman laughed and flipped each of the pancakes quickly before lifting Patton’s chin and kissing him softly. “You’re too easy.”

“Could’ve said the same about you in that pool float.”

Roman kissed him again. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“That’s how I wanna go,” Patton said. “Now go, sit, I need to make sure these don’t burn.”

Let me tell you now

They decided to tell everyone at the next game night, though it never really came to that. Logan had walked in on them making out in the kitchen, muttering “Fucking finally” before grabbing a soda from the fridge and walking out.

Patton blushed and hid his face in Roman’s chest as they both failed to hide their laughter. “I suppose we should get back to cards.”

Roman hummed, snaking his arms around Patton’s sides and pulling him close. He pressed a kiss to Patton’s lips and let it melt into more as sugar dissolved at his touch. “I have much more fun things in mind than cards.”

“Baaabe.”

“Yes?” Roman asked, kissing him again.

“If you two don’t get your asses over here I will stab you both,” Logan called.

Virgil then continued, shouting, “STOP BEING FUCKING HORNY!”

Roman laughed. “Let’s get back to cards.”

My love is strong enough

They settled into a nice routine. They spent more time together, yes, but also readjusted to spending time apart. Being a couple felt natural, it was hard to imagine living any other way.

Patton was laying in bed, squinting at his phone screen without his glasses. He smiled, half asleep but not willing to end his conversation so quickly. Roman was gushing about some book series or maybe it was a YouTube video, Patton really couldn’t tell. But it didn’t matter, seeing the stream of texts was comforting enough.

Pattoncake: Wait, hold on

Princey: ???

Pattoncake: I love you <3

Pattoncake: Okay, keep going

He smiled at his phone. He knew there had been times in life when he had been hurt. Upset. Injured. But Roman made it feel like nothing bad existed. Roman made everything feel like love.

To last when things get rough It’s magic

“Fuck,” Roman groaned.

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked, leaning against his shoulder.

“Tomorrow got cancelled due to weather.”

“That’s Florida for you.”

He groaned in response. “Florida can suck my dick.”

“But then I’d be out of a job.” 

Roman’s face went bright red as Patton laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Patton said, “We can still be gay in the rain.”

“Not with the other gays though.”

“We can be gay together. We can hang out with our friend gays.”

“I guess.”

“There’s other events,” Patton reminded. “Just let the weather pass. I’ll make tomorrow special.”

You say that I waste my time, but I can’t get you off my mind

Roman was out getting groceries while Virgil and Logan were sneaking into his apartment with every rainbow thing they could find. The apartment was covered wall to wall in flags and lights and for some reason a framed picture of the kiss scene from Love, Simon that had not been there before.

“Patton, I don’t intend to sound rude, but,” Logan looked up and down at Patton’s rainbow suit, “is this, perhaps, a bit superfluous?”

Patton adjusted Logan’s lapel pin, a heart in the colors and arrangement of the demisexual pride flag. “I’m dating Roman, if it’s not extra it’s not us.”

Logan rolled his eyes but gave a fond smile. “I will never understand how I am friends with either of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now I need you and Virgil to show how much you love me by leaving, Roman will be back any minute now.”

No, I can’t let go

Roman’s hair was sticking to his face when he came inside. He dropped the grocery bags by the door when he saw everything around him.

‘Cause I love you so

“Patton, what the fuck is this?”

“Surprise,” Patton said. “Or should I say ‘surpride!’”

Roman smiled, picking up the grocery bags and putting them properly on the counter. “You look ridiculous.”

“Do you not like it?”

“Oh, Patton.” Roman pulled him in close, holding his cheeks in his hands. “I adore it.”

Patton leaned into the touch, pressing their lips together. “I adore you.”

“Not as much as I adore you.”

“Hmm, nah,” Patton hummed. “I think I love you the most.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” he said with a smirk. “OH! I have to show you something!” He grabbed Roman’s hand and they ran into the living room. Patton pressed play on his phone and grabbed Roman’s hands.

“You can’t slow dance to Troye Sivan.”

“Maybe not,” he said. “But I want to. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

If you change your mind, I'm the first in line Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me

Patton pressed his head against Roman’s chest.

If you need me, let me know, gonna be around If you've got no place to go when you're feeling down

“We should stay like this forever.”

“What? Dancing?” Roman asked. “People have died from that.”

“No, not dancing,” Patton said. “I mean...”

If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me

“Together. Forever.”

Gonna do my very best and it ain't no lie If you put me to the test, if you let me try

“I agree completely, my love.”

Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me

[innittowinit]

Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence 

Language: English 

Word count: 1855 

Summary:

Tubbo is still with Manburg and never became a spy He never wanted to be the villain, so why is he duelling his best friend? 

LINK

His crossbow quivered, the blueish purple enchants illuminating the otherwise dim walkway. This path had so much history. The prime path; that's what Tommy called it. How he longed to go back to those times, just building random things around the server while Tommy went to cause havoc. He never wanted to be a villain but really does anyway intend to turn out to be the villain? Surely all of the greatest Disney villains believed they were doing what was right so why did he feel so wrong?

"One!"

Wilbur's voice was loud and booming, he took a step forward and as he shook like the leaves on the trees nearby, he wondered what Tommy could be thinking. He probably hated him now, he was always one to hold grudges whenever he was hurt and Tubbo had definitely hurt him.

He felt the wind blow through his hair, swirling around him and fluttering the blazer of his suit, as if even nature itself wanted him off this God awful side. it was too cold to be early October, the leaves were still on the trees and the sun was still setting at 8pm so he wondered why he couldn't stand still, why the air seemed to burn his eyes so bad they welled up and tried to wash the pain out. He wouldn't cry.

"Two!"

He took another step, teeth biting down on his lip so hard he was sure that he could taste blood. If he was still with Tommy he would have been making jokes about Hamilton right now, instead he was with schlatt. He raised his head slightly to catch Schlatt’s eyesight. Why was he grinning? He felt bile rise in his throat, only to be swallowed back down as he let his head hang low, refusing to look anywhere other than his shoes. He and Tommy had come so far together, only to end up here.

History repeats itself, it always does. He, Schlatt and Quackity were the new Sapnap, Dream and George. The thought made him feel ill but he knew it was true, he was on the wrong side of history. He was going to shoot his best friend and he was going to be praised for it.

Why did the air seem so thick? Why was it so hard to swallow? He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his own heart in his ears, not even the mellow chips of birds off in the distance provided him comfort anymore. He was too far gone.

“Three!”

Another step, Time felt like it was going a mile a minute and in slow motion simultaneously, his mind was spinning and his chest felt constricted. He always hated these stupid suits, he’d die for the chance to run off with his friend’s right now, to be able to go live in the woods. They seemed so free and so happy; he wanted to be free and happy too. He’d heard from Eret that they were living in a ravine, that seemed fun.

He glanced over to Wilbur, his brows furrowed in obvious concern and his shoulders were square, perfect posture, it reminded him of their old nation. Technoblade stood to his right -he guessed that was who Tommy had chosen to be his Second, there was a time that could have been Tubbo- and on his left stood JSchlatt. Neither of the two men were Physically taller than Wilbur but they both seemed to loom over the duel with ferocious intensity. He knew the passion in Techno’s eyes would be support for his friend, he wished he could say the same about Schlatt. Contrasting the small smile the royal had been wearing, Schlatt had a completely straight face, his eyes seemed to burn into Tubbos skull as he stared with fury. If he didn’t win this duel there would be consequences. That’s what he had said.

“Four!”

Gripping the handle to his crossbow, he fiddled with the string, putting one foot in front of the other. It seemed harder to load the arrow into it than usual, maybe the universe was telling him to back out, to yell about how his equipment was broken and how he couldn’t participate. Eventually the arrow slid into place though, the green, poisoned tip standing out like a sore thumb amongst the glimmering purple. He didn't want to shoot this, he didn’t want to shoot this at Tommy.

‘How do I keep going?’

The thought echoed in his mind, spinning around and dancing between every crevice of his being. He wanted to go home. But home wasn't there anymore. The walls were gone, the van was gone, the embassy had been destroyed, He was completely and utterly alone. He didn't even have his best friend anymore.

Tommy wouldn’t be having this much trouble, knowing him he’d probably have been excited, running around Wilbur and Techno on his way here, saying how he was going to win. How he would shoot Tubbo.

“Five!”

FuckFuckFuckFuck

He wanted out, he wanted out so bad. His bones felt like they were made of lead as he forced himself to take another step. He was halfway there already. This would be the end, he knew it. After this duel was over and done, he’d have no chance of rekindling his friendship with Tommy. He thought back a few months, they were inseparable, joined at the hip, he loved Tommy, they were best friends. He wished he didn’t care so much, he wished he was stone cold and ruthless like Dream and Schlatt. He wished he could play his part as villain without feeling like he would breakdown every second of the day.

“Six!”

Wilbur's voice seemed to be getting more and more cloudy, he swayed as he took another step forward, crossbow still held limply by his side. He felt rotten. Like his insides had been left out for days and have been feated on by wild animals. There were flies caught in his throat from his rotting organs and he wanted them out. He wanted to open his mouth and yell and scream like there was no tomorrow. He wanted his friend back. He wanted someone to fill the quiet for him so he didn't need to.

“Seven!”

Why had Tommy taken off the L’manburg uniform? Why didn’t he want their nation back? Tubbo was trying so hard to rise in power in ‘Manburg’ just so he could eventually take back their nation. They had fought so hard for this land, why was Tommy just giving it up? He wanted to be mad but he couldn’t bring himself to muster it. Really, he was just sad. Sad that they had gone separately. Sad that while he needed to stay and protect L’manbrug, Tommy could go and make whatever Pogtopia was.

He missed him

“Eight!”

He heard Tommy move behind him, he supposed he was starting to raise the crossbow, wanting to get the first shot.

‘Stupid Tommy,’ he thought, ‘don’t you know id never hurt you?’

He dropped his crossbow to the ground, only noticing when he heard the clatter of the weapon against the wooden path. He looked at it with sad, tired eyes and took a step forwards, not caring to pick it back up. He could hear Schlatt yelling something, the static buzz of an old TV set taking over his thoughts and blocking out whatever his boss was saying.

“Nine!”

He was nearly there, this was nearly over with. He felt dizzy. His throat hurt and his mouth felt cold. Niki ran over and pressed the crossbow back into his hands before running back into the crowd, he only noticed when he felt the weapon between his fingers once again.

Falling to his knees, dirty, calloused hands pressed over his eyes as he heaved and sobbed, his chest felt far too constricted with this suit on. He wanted to be back in the L’manburg uniform, or at least in whatever Uniform Pogtopia had. It was hard to tell. If he couldn’t have the past back, he’d happily settle for his friends back.

“Ten!”

He heard Tommy spin on his feet, stopping and instinctively shooting as soon as he had turned around, only to start yelling as soon as he noticed Tubbo wasn’t going to fire back. It was too late though, the arrow was already spinning, cutting through air as it traveled across the back.

It hurt. It hurt so so bad. And to think he almost shot Tommy with one of these. He doubled over, pain searing through his back as blood pooled and stained his white shirt, leaving a slight dark red on the black blazer on top. He coughed, his eyes felt heavy. He could hear ringing in his ears. Before he knew it, there was a group of people standing around him, but only one voice mattered.

He felt Wilbur lay him down onto his stomach as he helped him take the dreaded blazer off, it hurt. The feeling of the man's cold hands, carefully cutting down the back of his shirt to treat his wound left a shiver in his bones that he couldn’t describe. The fact that it was his best friend who had done this made it so much worse, had it been Schlatt or Dream, he would have had enough adrenaline in his body to lessen the pain.

It was because it had been Tommy. He was never scared of the blonde, he was just sad. And so when Wilbur carefully pulled the Arrow out of his back, he felt every single thing. Each nerve the Arrow touched, each drip of blood that dribbled down his sides, each time someone got too close and their breath blew onto the open wound.

Some whispering, and some more whispering. He felt Niki lay a gentle hand on his back before tipping a potion of healing over the gash. It stung but only for a second before his skin started to rapidly heal itself. Tubbo laid there helplessly as he waited for the potion to fix him up. Niki helped him sit back up, handing him a golden apple to finish him off.

“Thank you” he mumbled as he ate.

His eyes darted to the familiar blonde behind Wilbur, softening when he saw his guilty expression.

“Hey” Speaking through a mouthful of golden apple, the rawness of his throat was obvious “Hi”

They stared at each other in silence before the taller of the two broke and crumbled to the floor to pull Tubbo into a hug, careful to avoid the newly healed skin on his back.

“I..I don’t know why i did that!” “I didn't want to either!” “I can’t stop loving you, even when we’re on different sides!” Tubbo nodded frantically, wanting to express that he felt the exact same but being unable to find the words.

And so the two yelled endless apologies as they held each other tightly in their arms. Tubbo knew he’d get in trouble for this later but right now all that mattered is that they had eachother. And that was okay.

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Cloudwalker Series Part 6

Alright, 6 and 7 are ready to post, so I’m getting there, slowly. Thank you everyone for the support so far. I really do appreciate it and it really keeps me going.

Master-list Here

Approx WC: 1600

Avizon struggled to hide his wince, the pain in his arm from the bite and the apprehension at feeling the burning in his arm starting to fade away into a tingle as he left Ihuka in the dungeon. He was fuming with anger, so startled at the fact Ihuka had it in him to snap, to bite him with a venom that would easily kill under the right conditions, and all for a cloudwalker he'd just met too. 

Surrender was not within Ihuka's psyche, yet. He'd be punished for this. Avizon was determined to knock that resilience out of him- if the bite didn’t kill him first. That damned venom acted as a partial paralytic, and painkiller, a way for cloudwalkers to grab their prey, bite down and fly high into the sky to drop their prey while it was powerless in their hands. It was a highly sought after chemical for various reasons, one of several elements of these cloudwalkers he intended to harvest.

When Avizon returned to the throne room where he'd left Dyan. It was a grand room, with luxurious floors that were hidden beneath dirt and chandeliers and art that was heavy with dust. He intended to get both his new purchases working soon, Dyan especially, but for now that would have to wait.

Avizon found that Dyan really hadn't moved. He hadn't even turned around or adjusted how he sat. He was frozen stiff with fear.

"F.Follow," Avizon ordered.

Dyan jumped and yelped at the sudden noise that came from behind him.

"Hurry up!" Avizon snapped as he started towards his laboratory. He needed to hurry. He didn't know how potent Ihuka's venom would be, what effects it would have on him considering he was a youngster.

He stumbled just as he got to the lab, through the old desolate tunnels and stairways made of large blocks of dark stone in need of attention that Avizon couldn’t afford to give. The whole castle was in need of repair, but that took magic, magic he didn’t have, yet. He was struggling to think clearly. He had to lean against the wall. The paralytic compound in the venom was taking effect already. He needed a remedy before he was defenceless against the two cloudwalkers or worse, dying. He rushed to the workbench with Dyan following in fear. He was struggling to lift his shaking hands, he stumbled before he could get to what he needed.

"M… master?" Dyan whispered. “C.can… Can I help?”

"G.get the… the…" Avizon groaned, his words were slow and slurring. He needed to get the remedy. He forced himself onwards, to the right drawer, and Dyan dared to offer an arm with his head held low. Avizon took it to steady himself until he could reach the glass vial on the bench. He’d already been making an experimental batch of antidote for cloudwalker venom, but he hadn’t really tested it. He’d planned to find an enemy and try it but now he didn’t get that option.

He gulped, and drank down the liquid quickly while his throat was still working. He groaned and fell to the floor, his back pressed against the bench. Everything was spinning and he didn’t know how to make it stop. He focused on his breathing, feeling sweat drip down his face.

Dyan looked at him with concern from where he knelt, looking small, weak, and perfectly precious, but he still needed to be punished- at least once his world wasn’t spinning anymore. Avizon groaned again. “Can I help you more, master?” Dyan asked quietly.

“G.get… bandages. B.bring the… the box,” he panted. This was getting harder and harder. Dyan might have seemed broken, but if he was sure he had a chance…

Dyan rushed away, collecting a box from the bench that had said bandages in, but also ointments and salves. Avison struggled to get his shirt off and reveal the wounds underneath. They were small, almost human-sized teeth marks, but far sharper, and the canine teeth had naturally gone deeper. Blood dripped freely.

Avizon rummaged around the box and took out the right ointment for Dyan to use, not seeing how Dyan stared at the scars on his body. He could barely grip it now with his injured arm. It did seem that Ihuka’s venom was weaker, perhaps due to his age since he’d go after smaller prey. Dyan opened the glass container and swallowed hard. He started to apply it, though with great uncertainty, over Avizon’s wound, being too afraid to press down hard and make it stick to the skin straight away. Avizon groaned and struggled not to move away from his touch.

Dyan seemed to know what he was doing, at least a little. He applied the medicines and then waited for the all-clear to wrap it with bandages. Once Avizon nodded, he raced to get it done. Avizon could only sit and try to stay stony-faced. Dyan still seemed terrified of him.

“T.take… me… b.bed,” he murmured. Dyan took a deep breath before he offered an arm, and once Avizon took it, he was able to move and take more of his weight, almost all of it in fact. Dyan struggled, panting hard as he helped his master to his room. Avizon could feel the fear radiating off him.

Avizon dropped down onto his bed with a feeble groan. Everything was slowing down, and he felt it was getting harder and harder to move, to breathe. Dyan moved his legs onto the mattress and backed away, waiting for more instructions. “G.go to your room...” Avizon barely managed before he finally drifted off into sleep, hopefully a sign that his antidote was in fact working...

_____

Dyan went straight to his bedroom and didn’t look back, didn’t hesitate to open the door, close it behind him and take off his clothes. He didn’t deserve nice clothes. He had been bad, He’d been given such wonderful things and he’d been disrespectful. It had been an instinct to protect Ihuka, but perhaps it was an instinct he should have controlled. Now they were both in trouble.

Dyan gulped. He didn’t know what to do. Was he allowed in bed? Did he deserve it? No, he didn’t, but did his master want him there? Did he want him to sleep? He didn’t know, and so he sat on the floor, staring at the door in apprehension. He’d endured this a few times with his old master, being told to wait and then finding out he’d fallen asleep. He could do this, he had to.

Ten hours passed, according to the little clock on the mantlepiece. Ten hours of barely moving, of waiting for his master. He’d cried so many times while waiting for his master to come and collect him after being bitten, and Dyan could only hope that the sorrow didn’t show too badly on his face. It had left his exhausted though, and he desperately wanted to sleep. He hoped Avizon wasn’t dead.

Avizon sighed when he opened the door and Dyan sat up a little straighter, with dark circles under his eyes and a trembling lip. He swallowed hard, seeing a cane in Avizon’s hand.

“You… didn’t sleep last night?” Avizon asked. Dyan lowered his head. “I… I didn’t have permission? I was bad, master. so...” “You are always allowed to sleep in your bed, Dyan, unless I tell you otherwise.”

Dyan’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion and the disappointment of making another mistake. “Yes, master. I'm sorry.”

Avizon looked down at the cane in his hands. “You are not in trouble for misunderstanding. However, there is, of course, one thing. You disregarded your place, you tried to argue with me and my decisions.”

“I understand, master. I should not have tried to defend Ihuka where I was not permitted to.” “Correct. Hold out your hands, palm up.”

Dyan did so with a soft sniffle.

Avizon held the cane with a firm hand. “Since you were a great help, I have lessened your punishment... This time. But move your hands, and I will whip you more. Seven lashes, and your punishment will be complete.”

Dyan nodded silently and took a deep breath.

Avizon brought the cane down before Dyan was ready. He yelped and his hand moved out of the way. He looked up at Avizon without a word, saw him raise an eyebrow and returned his hand while gritting his teeth. He didn't move for the next two following strikes, but after that his shoulders hitched with the pain as he tried not to cry out, but the seventh and final strike was enough to make him screech. His hand shook with the pain, the sheer burning of the impacts on his soft skin. Still he didn’t pull away.

"You'll do well to remember that, although I am fair, you will not abuse the generosities I give you which I can, and will, so easily take away."

"Yes, master," he whispered. "Please forgive me. It won't happen again." "I should think not." Dyan looked up at him with teary eyes. "M.master?" "Yes, little bird?" "Are. Are you feeling better? From last night?"

Avizon couldn't help but let a smile tug at his lip. That was not a question he was expecting. "Yes… thank you. You did well last night and I do appreciate it. For that," Avizon waved his hand and conjured a plate of cooked meat he had left waiting in the kitchens. "Eat. And get some rest on the bed. You look tired. I repeat what I said before: you may always sleep on that bed, unless I directly tell you otherwise."

Dyan's mouth watered at the sight. "Yes, master. Thank you."

Avizon passed the plate down to him and watched as he ate, wincing as he moved his sore reddened hands and pushed the chunks of meat into his mouth. Chewing slowly and savouring it. 

Avizon nodded and patted his head. "Good bird. I'll be back later once I deal with Ihuka." Dyan opened his mouth to speak, but he bit his lip and thought better of it. Avizon noticed, he stared hard, but Dyan had made the right decision on his own. “Yes, master.“

At least one of them could learn.

[feeling-uncomfy]

Here you go @aestheticallytiredandpathetic :)

Fic #5 should be out soon, but I'm not sure how long it will be, hope that's okay :D

Please be warned there is a blood/injury warning!!

Hope you enjoy!

Hawks and Tokoyami walked out of the agency, ready and raring to go. "You wanna fly or walk?" Hawks asked his intern, grinning down at him. Tokoyami looked up at the bright sky. "I'd like to fly, if you dont mind."

Hawks ruffled his feathers. "Nice. We're going the normal route, you'll be happy to know." The last patrol they had Hawks tried a new route, which ended with them running into Endeavor, who always seemed to be in some sort of danger. Both Tokoyami and Shouto went home in stretchers that day.

Tokoyami nodded, following his mentor onto a near roof, and kicked off. The pair flew around the outskirts of the city, searching for any signs of danger. At first, there was nothing, and Hawks got bored. He chatted with Tokoyami about little things, how classes were going, training.

Tokoyami answered simply, trying to stay in the air. He wasnt as good as Hawks when it came to flying, but he tried. Hawks landed on a roof, calling a time-out. They ordered a takeout and sat on the roof, bored out of their minds.

"Normally there's at least one criminal running around..." Tokoyami stated, chewing on his food. Hawks nodded, swallowing. "It's a little too quiet, if you ask me." Hawks hopped off, stretching his wings. "Let's go, maybe we'll stop by Endeavor's place. Give us something to do." Hawks laughed at Tokoyami's wince.

They continued to patrol, and finally, something of interest happened. "Sir!" Tokoyami pointed at a tall building, where people were screaming. "I see it. Hold on." Hawks banked right.

They landed, and Hawks sent feathers out. Tokoyami made a border with the help of Dark Shadow, stopping people from getting closer. People were cheering. Hawks brought the feathers back, cussing. "What's the situation?" Tokoyami asked, swallowing his nerves. When he asked for something interesting, this isnt what he had in mind.

Hawks turned to his intern. "There's twelve hostages. Seven on the third floor, five on the bottom floor." He thought for a moment. "There aren't even that many villains. There are... eight? Nine villains at most." Tokoyami nodded at the information given to him.

"You run for the stairs through reception, and distract the villains on the higher level, and I'll grab the hostages. Got that?" Hawks looked at his intern. He specifically said distract, and prayed the message got across. Tokoyami nodded. Hawks grinned. "Great, I'll get you your opening."

Hawks sent feathers out, and took the guards closest to the hostages out first. Tokoyami ran forward as civilians were pulled out screaming. Tokoyami went for the stairs, taking a breath as he ran. Hawks soared upwards, watching his inter climb the stairs with Dark Shadow's help.

Tokoyami got to the third floor, and scanned the area. There were two people with guns trained on the hostages, and two more close by. A fifth person stood tall next to a machine. Tokoyami was weary. Hawks needed his kid to get working soon. Tokoyami knew if he jumped right out he'd get the people killed.

Instead, he sent Dark Shadow to the side, making a commotion. As the villains looked, on guard, Hawks sent feathers in. It was over in less than a minute. Tokoyami noticed a little girl who Hawks had missed, and jumped forward as one of the men had their gun pointed at them.

Using his body as a shield, Tokoyami took a bullet to his shoulder. He bit back a cry of pain as the child screamed. Dark Shadow took the girl into Hawks's line of sight, and she disappeared. Tokoyami realised his mistake as someone grabbed his cloak, dragging him over to the machine he saw earlier. He cursed himself for not thinking.

Hawks was there in a second, shoving the man back and pulling Tokoyami away. A gunshot sounded out and the hero froze. They were surrounded. "I'm sorry, Hawks—" Tokoyami bit out, shoulder going numb. "Dont be. You saved that little girl." Hawks reassured.

Hawks turned ro the villain who shot, and saw the machine himself. The man grinned ferally. "Hawks, the number two hero! What a surprise." He chuckled, and pointed the gun at Tokoyami. "And isnt that the kid who got third place during the sports festival? Whoa, we got ourselves a hustle." His grin was wider now.

He pushed a button in the machine. "Hey, get us outta here, Kay." The person in question, a person with an animal-type quirk, snapped their finger and the villains disappeared. Hawks groaned. "Why do all the villains have teleportation quirks?!"

Tokoyami looked up at him. "Hawks." Hawks looked down at his intern. "What's up, kid?" He moved so Tokoyami was sitting down, and walked over to the machine. "What do we have here...?" Hawks looked at the screen closely. Hawks's eyes widened.

"I—"

"It's a bom—!" Hawks turned to shield Tokoyami, just as the bomb went off. Hawks was shoved forward, his wings burning slightly and falling face-first into Tokoyami. The whole building shook and fell, crushing them both.

"What's happening?!" Endeavor ran up as the tremors in the ground stopped. Miruko shrugged, and Shouto looked around at the damage. Bakugo and Midoryia looked around, too. "....I think we got everyone out in time, so there's nothing to worry about." Shouto sighed. Good, no one was hurt.

There was a little girl, and she was trying to run towards the rubble? Did she lose something? Shouto walked towards her as Gang Orca showed up, Shouji hot on his heels. The little girl was crying. "What's wrong? Did you lose something?" He bent down to the girls level. She looked at him, fear in her eyes. "You have to help them! They're still in there!" She clung to him and sobbed.

Shouto was confused. "Who?" The girl wiped her tears away. "The man with wings! And the bird! The heros!" She yelled. Endeavor came over as Shouto's eyes widened. "What's wrong?" Shouto turned towards the rubble. "Hawks and Tokoyami–?!" Endeavor raised a brow. "What about them?" Shouto turned to hair father. "This girl says she saw them in the building. They might still be in there."

Tokoyami lifted his head with a groan. His head was pounding, and it was pitch black all around. He sat up, trying to balance himself with his arms. One of his arms gave out, and he fell down again. Right, he couldn't feel it after he had been shot. It wasn't bleeding that badly, so what was wrong?

There was a groan from his left. "Hawks! Are you alright?" He turned on his phone flashlight, and gasped. Hawks was covered in blood, many feathers gone. His eyes were lidded and unfocused. There was blood trailing down from his head and nose. "M'fine... I justs–" Hawks closed his eyes.

Tokoyami shook him. "Sir?! Hawks, wake up!" Tokoyami didnt know how to deal with this. Sure, he'd been taught first aid, but he'd never had to apply it in an actual situation before. He didnt know where to start, his mind went blank. Hawks groaned and moved onto his back, and Tokoyami nearly doubled over. There was definitely a broken rib, and his leg was twisted at an odd angle.

Hawks was mumbling nonsense. He must have hit his head hard, how was Tokoyami supposed to help?? He ripped his cloak without thinking, wrapping it firmly around his head to stem the flow. Hawks hissed in pain, and Tokoyami apologised. He did this again with other places that bled, until there wasnt any place left.

"Okay, can I pick you up? Am I strong enough for that...?" He said to himself, and tried anyway. He couldn't with his arm out of commission. His left arm hung loosely, and he tried desperately not to panic. He managed to get half of Hawks's torso over his right shoulder, and clung on for dear life. "This may hurt, sorry." He started walking, dragging Hawks with him.

They moved slowly through the rubble, using Tokoyami's phone light as a guide. Tokoyami's right arm tired after a while, but he refused to stop. He couldn't stop, Hawks was hurt. Tokoyami looked up as rubble moved.

Large rocks same crashing down hard, and Tokoyami barely had time to shove Hawks back. Something hit his head with a crack and he fell, shouting out in pain. Dark Shadow was going haywire inside him, wanting to keep their host safe. Tokoyami fell to his knees, and waited for the rocks to stop falling.

Tokoyami gingerly touched his head with one hand, and inhaled sharply when he brought his hand back. There was dark, thick blood coating his hand. Tokoyami shivered as it dripped down his beak. His vision swam. He was going to pass out.

No, he couldn't. He had to stay awake. He slapped his face, trying to keep conscious. He had to get them out of here, but Hawks was limp, and there wasnt any sign of sunlight. "Okay, okay. What would your classmates do?" Tokoyami asked himself, shaking his already drooping head.

Midoryia would analyse the area as best he could, and Yayorozu would probably try gauge the their whereabouts and the stability of the rubble. His eyes drooped closed. No, he couldn't think straight. Who else...?

Shouji. He would worry about everyone else, make sure they're okay. It was getting harder to think anything. Bakugo would blast his way out, probably—

Wait. Tokoyami looked up at the rubble over his head. Even if he could, Bakugo was accurate with his blasts, and he probably wasnt two seconds away from passing out, either. Still, if Dark Shadow could make at least a dent in the rubble...

The whole thing might collapse on them, and then what? Tokoyami looked nervously down at Hawks. His eyes were closed and his wings twitched once before falling still. No, Tokoyami was sure Hawks wouldnt wake up anytime soon.

Were people even aware they were down here? The question made Tokoyami freeze. What if they didnt know? What if everyone had left them already...? They wouldn't do that, surely someone had noticed Hawks's absence. Tokoyami's breathing was uneven, and he shook.

If they died down here, how long would it take people to notice? In Hawks's case, not very long.

But in Tokoyami's case...

He took in a shaky breath, he couldn't waste the little oxygen they had. He wiped the tears that had falled away and sat up. "Dark Shadow, please stay calm..." Tokoyami let Dark Shadow out, his phone staying on full brightness to hopefully keep him at bay.

It sort of worked. Dark Shadow roared and hit a large boulder, and then had to stop it from crushing them. "Dark Shadow, could you please try find any safe way to the surface?"

Dark Shadow nodded once and slinked off. Tokoyami sat back, going over ways to stay calm. Hawks moved slightly, and made a noise of pain. "Sir...?" Tokoyami looked down at him.

Hawks coughed up an excessive amount of blood, and his breathing went shallow. Tokoyami panicked and reached forward, supporting him. Hawks couldn't get anything out, and fell quite in Tokoyami's grip again. The silence that followed was deafening.

"Sir?" Tokoyami shook him. There was nothing. "Hawks? Please get up." Tokoyami didnt want to beg, but he really didnt want to be alone. Not like this. Hawks didnt respond, his blood falling out of his mouth into Tokoyami's knees.

Tokoyami was shaking, panic rising in his throat. "Sir, please dont leave me..." It came out as a broken whisper. He was trying not to freak out, in fear Dark Shadow may destroy more rubble.

"Fumi! I found something!" Dark Shadow zipped back to Tokoyami's chest, trying to comfort him. "What? What is it?" Tokoyami moved to stand, holding Hawks up. Dark Shadow pointed the way they came. "There's an easy way out. We'll have to climb, but we can get out."

Tokoyami let out a relieved breath, trying not to sob in relief. "Lead the way." They walked, a little slowly, but within a few minutes, they made it to the point Dark Shadow told him about.

It was a steep uphill climb. "How are we supposed to get up there with Hawks? I cant climb up that far holding him." Tokoyami stared up at the small streaks of sunlight. Dark Shadow bobbed around excitedly. "But I can help! I'll carry Hawks, and you climb up."

Tokoyami thought for a few minutes, but nodded. They started climbing, and Tokoyami's vision swam every once in a while. He slipped and fell the first few attempts, and he smacked his head again after the fourth attempt.

"Fumi!?" Dark Shadow floated uncertainly around him. Tokoyami groaned and felt the back of his head, and felt something sticky. There was more blood at the back of his head. Tokoyami felt a sudden wave of exhaustion sweep over him, and he fell back.

He struggled, his left arm was completely numb and now swollen in a few places. What was in that bullet? Tokoyami climbed, and got halfway when he heard it.

"I'm still not getting anything. I dont think they're here."

Shouji. They were looking, but he couldn't— they thought they were—

"Shouji!" Tokoyami yelled, trying to get higher. He slipped but help fast. "Shouji!" He yelled louder. He couldn't hear him. "Dark Shadow, get Hawks higher. Get him through the rubble." Tokoyami wheezed out, chest feeling tight.

Dark Shadow did what they were asked, and brought Hawks up. Tokoyami tried again to get Shouji's attention. "Shouji, we're down here! Please!" He was getting desperate. Hawks wasnt going to die down here, not if Tokoyami had any say in it.

Tokoyami screamed. "Shouji!!"

The rubble moved and Dark Shadow and Hawks made it to the surface. The rocks around him crumpled and Tokoyami slipped back. The sunlight was getting further away. Did he really climb this high? Tokoyami decided, this was fine. Hawks was alright, that's all that matters.

He'd already come to terms with the fact he might not graduate from U.A.

The fact that he might never make it to eighteen, he accepted. It was fine, he was okay with that. He'd long since come to terms with the fact that he might die, and found he didnt mind as much.

He did what he was supposed to do.

Tokoyami closed his eyes and hit the bottom. Something cracked and it all faded away. The last thing he saw was something reaching towards him. He wondered vaguely if he'd see his mother again...

Hawks groaned and opened his eyes. He'd finally kept them open for longer than a second, and looked around. He wasnt under the building anymore, which was good. But where was—?

"Tokoyami?" He looked around, and Endeavor stopped him. "Calm down. You were crushed by that building over there. You were hurt." Hawks shook him off, standing wobbly. "Where's Tsukuyomi?" Endeavor didnt answer. "Where is he?!" Hawks yelled, getting worried.

Endeavor didnt look at him. Hawks walked as fast as he could towards the crowd. He heard yelling. Bakugo was yelling, clearly panicked. Shouto had his hand on someone's shoulder. The shoulder was trembling. Oh, it was Gang Orca's kid. Shouji? He had his dupliarms shoved down a large gap in the debris.

He shoved past Miruko and asked what was happening. Shouji let out an intelligible noise, shaking his head. Hawks caught sight of the bottom. There were lights shining down so they could see. Hawks gasped loudly.

"Tsukuyomi!" He yelled, and Miruko held him as he tried to jump down to his intern. "Miruko, let go! Let me fucking go!" He was so, so angry. Shouji ducked his head, and let out a sob. Hawks shoved Miruko off, and ran forward.

Gang Orca put a hand around him, stopping him. "That's my kid! My fucking kid! He's down there! Let go!" Hawks screamed, fighting with every ounce of strength he had left. His wings spread out, catching the hero off guard. Hawks ran forward, still yelling. His jumped down.

He reached the bottom. "Tokoyami! Kid, please be okay." Tokoyami wasnt breathing. Dark Shadow was no where to be seen. "Kid? Hey, come on kid, you cant leave yet..." Aziawa arrived, looking down.

"Kid...?" Nothing. Tokoyami was gone.

Hawks sobbed as he held his kid close. He screamed. It was a loud, broken sound that echoed through the cave. Bakugo knew the second he heard it that Tokoyami was gone, and stopped yelling. Aziawa's eyes widened. Shouji broke down, curling into himself. He'd been so close, he heard him, and he still—

"Kacchan?!" Midoryia half caught Bakugo as he fell to his knees. Shouji didnt look up. Gang Orca kneeled next to him and pat his shoulder, silent. Shouto was two seconds away from going down himself. Endeavor walked over, uncertain. Shouto just collapsed into his farhers chest, high on emotions.

Aziawa tensed as Miruko stood next to him. There were unshed tears in her eyes, and Aziawa knew he wasnt much better. Hawks was still screaming. His voice cracked, and he held Tokoyami tighter. This was all his fault. If Hawks had been faster, maybe his kid would still be alive.

The new crew, still filming, broadcasted Hawks's breakdown to the whole of Japan. All Might watched as his students broke down. Yamomo, Jirou and Kaminari watched as their guitarist, their friend died alone. The whole of class 1A was in the common area, watching the news. They heard Hawks screaming their classmates name in agony.

The league watched from the bar. Not even Dabi could form a solid joke as they watched. Instead, they gave a silent moment. Well, Shigaraki, Kurogiri, Compress and Dabi did. Spinner wasnt there and Toga and Twice didnt care. Dabi was still a little shocked by Hawks's outburst.

Mr. Compress tutted about 'wasted potential' and Magne swatted his shoulder. "The kid just died, Sako. Be nice." She was also quiet. As much as she hated to admit it, she had a soft spot for kids. This physically hurt to watch.

Shinsou watched his childhood friend die. He couldn't help the tears that fell from his eyes, and he cried.

It seemed the whole of Japan had gone silent for Hawks and his intern.

Hawks had to be dragged away from the body, kicking and screaming. He was two minutes away from being sedated. Aziawa gave the kids a ride back to the dorms. Shouji was still shaking, and Bakugo was quiet. Midoryia held onto Todoroki, who was silently crying.

Once they got back to the dorms, the band held Bakugo and Shouji close. The class stayed together. And for once, not even Mineta made a peep. Mina was clinging to Shouji and Shouto, tears streaming down her face, reminiscing on old memories.

Tokoyami's funeral took place after three days. It wasnt a huge funeral, but many people played their respects after the ceremony. Hawks had to be held up by Miruko and Best Jenist. Tokoyami's father didnt show up, but they didnt need to.

Tokoyami's family had always been 1A.

So, as a ghost, he enjoyed watching them go through the rest of their years of training. He was glad it was Shinsou that replaced him. Hawks had never stopped visiting him, and Tokoyami enjoyed the stories he shared from the day. He enjoyed the new music the band played, and was touched when Jirou made a song for him.

He saw other ghosts wandering, and he decided fuck it, death was lonely. He met Oboro, Sir Nighteye and Nana Shimera. They all had their lives cut short, and they bonded over that. Oboro and Tokoyami got along better, as their ages were so close.

All in all, Tokoyami found death wasnt as bad as people made it out to be. Sure, he'd never make it to eighteen, but he found it was much easier to watch. Watch with his mother and Dark Shadow, and the other ghosts.

Sure, he'd left it all behind, but for a split second, he was okay with that.

This physically hurt to write—

This was supposed to have a happy ending, too but idk what went wrong xD

Hope you enjoyed!

[cadence-talle]

write livvy and della

hey, grace. how’re you doing?

Snapshots

Pairing: Della Vacker/Livvy Rothsdell

Wordcount: 2,875 

Other notes: Hopping on the Dellivvy train with this oddly-paced mess. It jumps around a bit, so be sure to read the headings before each scene! (I also have a timeline if you need it.)

Thirteen years after, thirty-one years before.

Della is married on a hot summer day, under a pearly arch. Her dress is spun lace, her flowers are delicate and white, and her fiance looks perfectly handsome. Della is so happy she could burst. 

Even the sudden outburst at the entrance to the garden, Dame Alina shouting about how she deserves Alden, can’t shake Della. She feels like she’s floating, like she could lift mountains right now without breaking a sweat. 

Alden takes her hands in his as the ceremony comes to a close, smiling at her. Over his shoulder, Della can’t help herself from glancing back at the audience, at the empty seat practically shouting at her. In the sea of tearfully smiling faces, it sticks out like a beacon. Something twists in her gut.

Della tears her attention away and focuses back on her new husband. This is what you want, she reminds herself. This is what you’ve always wanted. 

She pushes down the strange emotion building in her chest and pastes a smile on her face just in time to say, 

“I do.”

-/-

Six years after, thirty-eight years before. 

“Are you going to the Commencement Ball?” Della asks. It’s the biggest Foxfire event every year- a dance, for all those students moving up to the elite levels. She’s been excited for it for months. 

Livvy snorts from where she’s sprawled across Della’s bed, doing homework. “Can’t, remember? I’m not going into the Towers.”

“Oh, right.” Della flushes- she can’t believe she forgot. Livvy’s trying to hide it, but she’s upset she couldn’t go on to the Elite Levels, annoyed at herself for being Talentless. “Well, do you want to?”

“Does it matter?” Livvy asks. “I won’t be allowed to go either way.”

“You could come as my plus-one,” Della says before she can think. Livvy’s head snaps up, and she stares at Della. 

“For real? I thought you’d bring your boyfriend.” 

Della shrugs. “I think I’m going to break up with Caton, actually. And you’re more important anyway.”

“But-” Livvy sits up, waving a hand in the air. “Won’t people talk?”

“People will talk no matter what I do,” Della says. “Besides, it’s not even that incriminating. We’re just going as friends.”

“Friends,” Livvy echoes. “Right.” She offers a small smile. “All right. That sounds kinda fun, actually. I’ll go.”

Della grins. “Great.”

Two weeks later, they walk into Foxfire side by side. 

-/-

Ten years after, thirty-four years before. 

“Whoa.” 

Livvy glances around the large room, the tiny lights hanging on the walls reflecting in her eyes. She grins at Della, tiny name tag (Livvy Rothsdell, Guest) hanging off her dress. “This place looks awesome.” 

Della laughs, shrugging one shoulder up. “The gnomes did a great job. I’m still a little nervous, though.”

Livvy grabs her hand. “You’ll do fine. It’s just talking to people, right? You’ve been good at that your whole life.”

“I guess. I just- I wish I could do this later.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure your parents are going to blow a fuse if you push this off again. They’re already worried to death about your ‘prospects.’”

Della gives a tiny smile. Livvy holds up their entwined hands. “And I’m here, okay? I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Thank you,” Della whispers, and the doors swing open. 

Della makes her rounds of the room, greeting people and making small talk. Livvy’s always there, hovering on the edges of the conversation, ready to pull Della out if she starts panicking. It’s actually not as bad as Della was expecting- she knows almost everyone there.

 She’s met almost everyone in the room when a man comes up (Alden Falaichte, #256, the nametag supplies), and sweeps into a low bow, kissing her hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” Della says. Alden gives her a charming smile. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” he responds. 

Looking back on it, that’s where everything went wrong. 

-/-

Fourteen years after, thirty years before. 

She’s surprised at how quickly Alvar arrives. They’ve been married barely six months before she gets pregnant, only a year when their son is born. Holding him is like looking into the sun- bright, warm, but somehow foreboding. 

Later, Della will know that it’s because that was the moment she knew she couldn’t get out. 

She keeps her soft smile and leans into Alden as the painter drags his brush across the canvas, memorializing this great feat. The three of them are a family now; a real one. One that will be looked up to, the newest branch of the great Vacker family. 

“It’s beautiful,” she says, looking at the finished painting on the wall later. The painter’s managed to capture all the details- the perfect color of Alden’s eyes, the tiny curls in Alvar’s hair, Della’s quirk at the corner of her mouth. It’s a picture-perfect family, an enclosed biosphere that will be put on a pedestal. Della’s been standing on that pedestal her entire life.

She asked Alden once, before they were married, if he was all right with all the attention. 

“It’s a lot,” she said, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. “People are looking at you, talking about you, all the time. It can be exhausting sometimes. I understand if you don’t want-”

“Della.” Alden tilted her chin up slightly, smiling. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

Della smiled. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she whispers, tracing the edges of the painting.

Somewhere, off in another room, Alvar starts to cry. 

-/-

Forty-one years after, three years before.

Della paces nervously back and forth across the carpeted floor of Fitz’s room, glancing back at the bed in which her son lies. He’s still unconscious, the venom slowly spiderwebbing its way across his chest. She shivers. 

The door flies open, and a tall woman in a gem-studded mask runs in. Della freezes. 

“Liv?” she whispers. It’s been years, but she’d recognize her old best friend anywhere. Even with a mask on. Livvy meets her eyes. 

“Hey,” she says sheepishly. “Heard you were here.”

“What are you doing here?” Della asks. “Since when are you a member of the Black Swan?”

Livvy shrugs, a gesture so familiar Della knows it like the back of her own hand. “I have been for a while, actually. Almost sixteen years.”

“Why didn’t I know?”

“We weren’t really talking when I joined.”

And that’s when it hits Della. She didn’t know Livvy had joined the Black Swan because she didn’t know Livvy anymore back then, still doesn’t know her anymore. She’s struck with a sense of longing, of missing what they used to have. 

But it wasn’t you, she thinks. It was Livvy. She broke things off, not you. “How’s Quinlin?” she asks as Livvy opens a bag and starts pulling out elixirs. 

“Oh, we filed a match fail,” Livvy says offhandedly. “Things didn’t work out.”

“I’m- sorry?” Della responds awkwardly. Livvy shrugs.

“Eh, you know. I only really married him because of you and Alden, you know? We didn’t really have much in common at the end of the day. I couldn’t talk to him, not like I can talk to you.” She pauses, tapping a fingernail against a glass bottle. “Could talk to you.”

Della flinches. “I think I’m going to wait outside,” she says, moving towards the exit. “Tell me if you need anything.”

“Goodbye,” Livvy murmurs, almost too low to hear. “I never got to say that.”

Della closes the door. 

-/-

Three years after, forty-one years before.

“And I swear, if one more person asks me how we became friends, I’m going to steal their kneecaps.”

Della laughs, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as they walk through the streets of Atlantis. They’re trying to find a gift for Livvy’s mom- it’s not going very well, though, since the only things Livvy can remember she likes are “music” and “those weird jam pastries” and neither of those things is very helpful. She peeks into another shop window as Livvy keeps talking. 

“Everyone’s just like, ‘oh, but you’re Talentless, how could someone like you be friends with a Vacker,’ and I’m like, ‘wow, I wasn’t aware that abilities dictated who you could be friends with.’” She groans. “Honestly. This would all be easier if I could just manifest already.”

“Hey,” Della says, grabbing her hand. “I don’t care that you’re Talentless, okay? You’re my best friend.”

“Well, duh,” Livvy says. “It would just stop the gossip mill.”

Della shrugs. She’s been around the gossip mill her whole life- if it’s not one thing, it’s another. Then she spots a tiny box in the storefront of a shop across the street. “Wait, what’s that?”

That, as it turns out, is a music player, a tiny instrument that plays the newest Song songs. Livvy takes one look at it and brings it up to the purchase counter. 

“My mom’s going to love it,” she says as they leave the store. “Thank you so much.”

“I just saw it in the window,” Della laughs. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Still.” Livvy leans over and gives Della a quick kiss on the cheek. A warmth and the scent of lilacs surround Della, gone as quickly as they’d come. “Thank you,” she says, stepping back. 

Della blinks, trying to quell the odd rising feeling in her chest. “You’re welcome,” she manages. “Um. Do you want to get butterblasts?”

Livvy’s face lights up, and Della reminds herself that this is normal. Friendship is normal. Livvy probably gives all her friends cheek kisses. 

“Yes,” Livvy says, hooking her arm through Della’s. “Let’s go.”

-/-

Seven years after, thirty-seven years before. 

Dear Livvy, 

I miss you. Everyone here is nice, sure, but they don’t have your humor or your looks. I have this constant feeling that everyone wants to be my friend because of my family, not because of me. You were never like that. 

Why were you never like that?

Anyways, my studies are going well. The Elite Levels are… harder, than normal Foxfire, but it’s fine. Not like I have much else to do. 

They were playing a song today in Advanced History, the one with all the birds; do you remember it used to be your favorite? You’d play it on loop, talking about how it “embodied nature” or whatever, until I had to tackle you to shut you up. 

Do you know how many times I almost kissed you last summer? How many times we were sitting so close it would have been easy to just lean forward? Because I do, and it’s a lot. 

How are you? How’s work? I heard you’re training to be a physician- that’s so cool! I hope that when I come home you can show me the stuff you’ve learned. 

I should go. Have a ton of work. 

I love miss you,

Della 

-/-

Thirty-one years after, thirteen years before.

Della and Alden don’t fight often. Della’s not one for fighting, honestly; if someone cares enough about a subject to actually come to blows about it, she usually assumes they’re right. Livvy always said that was a stupid mindset, but Della disagrees- in high society, it’s easier to just agree and move on than to argue. 

On this, however, she refuses to back down. 

“No,” she says, striding closer to Fitz and taking the six-year-old in her lap. “You are not sending our son to the Forbidden Cities.”

Alden sighs. “Honestly, Della, I’ve told you, it’s barely even illegal. And this is important-” 

“I don’t give a flying fizzleberry how important it is! He’s six years old, Alden! You can’t throw a six-year-old a melder and tell him to be careful. He’s going to get hurt.”

“I’m big!” Fitz objects. “I could do it.” He looks up at Della, eyes wide. “What am I doing again?”

Della glares at her husband. “See? He’s a little kid. He’s not going to be roped into your insane missions.”

“This is important-”

“Nothing is more important than our son!”

“Some things are.”

Della steps back, mouth hanging open as Alden scoops Fitz into his arms. He glances back up at her. “I’m trying to save the world, Della. You’ll understand when we find her.”

He heads towards the exit, and Della drops into a chair. Softly, she mutters, 

“I hope you never find that girl if this is what she’s being brought into.”

-/-

Forty-two years after, two years before.

Della marches into Alden’s office and slaps a pile of papers down on the desk. He looks up, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s this?”

“I’m filing a match fail.” Della says bluntly. “You just need to sign right there and I’ll ship it off.”

“And what happens if I don’t sign?” Alden asks. Della places another sheet of paper on the desk. 

“Then I bring the issue of domestic and child abuse to the Council, as well as telling them how long you were illegally going to the Fobidden Cities.” She smiles at him. “Your choice.”

Alden stares at her. “After everything I’ve done-” 

“Nope,” Della says. “You don’t get to do this right now. You don’t have the right. Just sign and get out of my house.”

“Your house?”

“It’s belonged to the Vacker family for generations,” Della informs him. “And you are no longer a Vacker.”

“Della-” Alden starts, but Della’s turning towards the door. 

“With all due respect,” she says, “I’ve had to put up with your bullshit for twenty-nine years. I’m done.”

And she exits the room. 

“Why did you want to meet me here?” Livvy asks an hour later. She’s sitting across from Della at a small coffee shop in Atlantis. This is, Della reflects, the first time they’ve seen each other- really seen each other- since she got married. 

“I filed a match fail against Alden,” she responds. “He’s leaving.”

Livvy’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s- big.”

Della shrugs. “It’s been a long time coming. I wanted to tell you.”

“Oh. I- okay.” Livvy’s quiet for a moment, absentmindedly ripping flakes off of a pastry. “Why?” she finally asks. 

Wordlessly, Della hands her a folded piece of paper. She’s been doing that a lot lately- writing down her thoughts so she doesn’t have to articulate them out loud. It’s helpful, sometimes. 

The paper she’s handed Livvy has only three words on it:

I love you. 

Livvy looks at her. “What-”

“I think,” Della admits, “I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. Since school, even. I was confused, back then. Scared, of what my family would say.” She exhales slowly. “I’m tired of being scared.” 

She glances up and Livvy. “So- if you’d be okay with it, I’d like to try something.”

Livvy blinks and nods, and Della kisses her. 

This is nothing like kissing Alden. This is warmth and security and the smell of lilacs, so much like that cheek kiss in Atlantis all those years ago. This is home- Livvy is home- and Della loves it. 

-/-

Then, forty-four years before.

“Oh!”

Della runs straight into someone, knocking herself to the ground. A girl, clad in the same black uniform as Della, is standing over her, dark jewel-scattered braids hanging around her face. She smiles at Della. 

“Hey, sorry about that,” she says, offering a hand and pulling Della to her feet. “I’m Livvy, by the way.”

“Della Vacker,” Della responds. “And I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Livvy laughs, flashing Della a bright smile. “Let’s just agree it was both our faults. Where are you headed?” 

“Elvin history,” Della says confidently. She’s had her schedule memorized since the day it arrived with the rest of her supplies. “You?”

“Uh,” Livvy bites her lip, rummaging through her pockets. “I’m not sure? It might be elementalism. Ooh, or ability detecting!” She shrugs. “I’ll figure it out. See you at lunch?”

Della blinks. “I- sure. That sounds good.”

Livvy flashes her a thumbs-up and takes off, calling behind her. 

“Great! Nice to meet you, Della Vacker!”

And Della, standing in the middle of the Level One hallway, has a sudden feeling that her life is about to change for the better. 

-/-

Forty-four years after, now. 

Della is married for the second time on a cool October afternoon, surrounded by her friends and family. Fitz is best man, Biana is maid of honor, and the rest of their friends are in the wedding party in one capacity or another. Keefe and Dex specifically requested to be flower boys. 

There are no interruptions this time, no shouting at the garden gates, no anger that they’re getting married. It’s just Livvy and Della, now Livvy-and-Della, and a lot of love. 

“I first fell for you when you fell for me, that first day in Foxfire,” Livvy laughs. “I looked at you and I thought, that’s her. That’s the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.” She looks at Della. “That’s the girl I am spending the rest of my life with.”

Della takes her hands, twining their fingers together. “I love you,” she says simply. “I love you, and I’m never going to stop saying it.”

The priest drones on, the ceremony comes to a close, and Della says “I do,” for the second time in her life. 

This time, she really means it. 

[zacc-attacc]

Kissing In The Snow: A Javid Fic

This fic is lowkey shit and I might literally post a new one to apologize for this, but have it anyway!

Final Word Count: 3.2k

Triggers: There’s a bit of an anxiety attack, and a reference to self-harm. I put an * before the attack and bolded the self-harm reference so you stay safe! Love you nerds!

The plan was originally to drive through the night. After all, it was a long-term trip, and we both had a pretty uncanny ability to stay awake. Since we had two drivers, we could switch roles every now and again. But we only made it until a few hours after dark. 

I knew there would be snow. After all, especially around New York, there was always snow during late December. But that… That was the type of storm that we hadn’t seen in years. The only time I think I had ever seen that much snow was when my family had traveled to Canada and they were hit with a snow storm. It was magical as a kid in a warm, safe cabin. But now, as an adult, driving on a dark road with the life of my best friend in my hands, it was downright terrifying. 

Jack wasn’t fully asleep when I started to consider pulling over. After all, it was only around 10 PM, meaning he was in the dozing part of the night. It was just dark enough that he couldn’t sketch in his physical notebook, and he had put in his earbuds to try and drift off. He had offered to drive, since he was sure I was sleepy from waking up at 5 AM to pack, but I assured him that I was wide awake. And I really was. Slamming three Bang Energy drinks in the span of two hours would do that to a guy. 

Snowflakes had started to fall about an hour ago. They were small ones, barely making a dent in our view. But the longer I drove, the bigger they got. Bigger, thicker, and falling faster. I knew that if I was outside, I would be soaked within three seconds. 

The wind howled, not for the first time, whistling around the car and nudging it slightly across the icy road in an attempt to push us off. I could feel my anxiety rising as I frantically tried to keep the car on the road while staying calm, but something must have tipped Jack off, because he sat up from where he was curled by the window, stared at the weather, and looked at me with shock on his face. 

“Jesus, Dave, it’s crazy out there!” 

I felt my hands that I hadn’t even realized were clenching the wheel loosen at the sound of his voice. Despite the fact that I had just been talking on and off with him for seven hours, his voice still had a strange habit of making the world seem less terrible. Especially when paired with his eyes, wide, hazel-y green, and worried. 

“Yeah,” I said, hearing that my voice was significantly higher than it usually was. 

“Should we… Pull over? Find somewhere to stay for the night? We can’t sleep in the car, you’ll freeze-”

“I’ll freeze? Last I checked I’m not the only one who can contract hypothermia,” I cut him off, smiling internally at the ‘Mama bird’ side that was revealing itself (a side that normally only showed in dire situations or when one of their friends were injured).

“Yeah, but you’re a string bean. Nothing to you,” Jack pointed out. This was true, but only when compared to him. As the linebacker for Northwestern University’s football team, he had enough muscle on him to pass for a professional bodybuilder. It was funny that he was a football player while also majoring in art, while compared to the other players with their business and accounting majors. I knew he secretly hated the team, but he was playing football for the scholarship to put him through school, so it was either play or starve. Obviously, he chose to play.

I tried to take a left turn, starting to slope softly almost 50 feet away in order to be able to make the turn. It was still almost too much for the car, causing me to need to break completely to avoid hitting a sign that read Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks, 10 mi. 

I felt my entire body tighten as I tried to steer  without adding any additional momentum to our car careening across the ice. The tires were locked in place, and still sliding like the world’s most dangerous hockey puck. Jack had stopped talking, and was holding his breath right along with me as we continued to slide. Once we finally stopped, I put my head down on the steering wheel and tried not to cry from a simultaneous feeling of adrenaline and relief. 

*********

I was shaking, harder than I had in a long time. I felt Jack’s strong, warm hand on my back, an anchor. He knew how my attacks worked, since he had seen me through middle and high school. They happened a lot less now, but that didn’t make them any better when they did hit, like a freight train of emotion and a loss of control. Where my lungs decided to say “I can’t do this anymore,” and stopped wanting to work. Where my face felt like it was set on fire, and my eyes were watering and I tired to keep everything under control but it all felt so hard and my thoughts were rushing and my heart was pounding in my ears and-

“It’s okay, Davey,” his low voice muttered. 

Davey. 

That damn nickname. The one only he had ever called me. 

He was leaning over the gear stick now to hug me, pinning my arms to my side (I had… Old habits) He was rocking, his hand on my heart as he counted the beats with me, whispering into my ear. 

“Five, six, seven, eight…”

**********

Once we got to sixty, I had calmed down a bit. I could breathe now, at least, and I had stopped crying. 

“I think I’ll drive us the rest of the way. Is that okay, Dave?” Jack murmured. He was still holding onto me tightly, as if I could break at any moment. 

“Yeah,” I said, my voice sounding worn like it always did after an attack. 

The moment I felt him pull away, I missed him. After all, he really was quite warm, and there was a winter storm outside. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. 

I opened the car door, and heard Jack do the same behind me. The road was icy, icier than we should have been driving on. Then again, I guess that was kind of the whole reason we were dipping out rather than driving through the night. 

As we were walking, I could feel my Timberlands beginning to lose the battle between gravity and friction. I looked up in an attempt to keep my balance, and saw Jack begin to topple. I instinctively reached out my arm to catch him, and we both spun in some strange, ice dance to keep our balance. Finally, Jack slapped the hood of the car to tether us both, hard enough that the alarm started to beep, shattering the night with its high tones.

Jack looked at me, and down at my arm, which I just noticed had somehow snaked around his waist in the struggle. I dropped it quickly, feeling my face heat up despite the snow, smiling awkwardly. Jack just patted my shoulder, and began to chuckle. A soft, not full-blown laugh at the situation. I found myself laughing right along with him. 

His laughter had always been contagious. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“This is delux,” Jack grinned, unrolling his travel blanket onto the singular bunk bed. Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks turned out to be a dingy collection of cabins owned by an old woman looking to make a buck and offer hospitality to travelers. 

“I’m glad you pulled over, you’ll catch your death in that type of storm,” Joanna said from the doorway, making sure we had enough blankets and brain cells to survive the night. The cabin was small, with a few bunks lining the walls. There was a hot plate on top of a little fridge, but the electricity had been kicked out from the storm, meaning those were both rendered useless. There was an oak door leading to what I guessed was a bathroom, and a light rattling sounding above us for what I assumed was the heating.

“Thank you for having us for free, ma’am,” Jack said for the eight billionth time that night. Joanna just tossed her head back in a light laugh. 

“A sweet couple like you, and three days before Christmas no less? It’s no problem, really. I’m all for holiday cheer. Have a good night, you two,” Joanna said, turning and winking behind her shoulder as she walked away. I made eye contact with Jack, and noticed that he was blushing just as much as I was. We waited a few minutes to make sure Joanna was completely gone to continue unpacking. 

“How many times has that happened now?” I asked, hanging Jack’s scarf over a vent so it could dry overnight. 

“What?” Jack said, turning from making his bunk to look at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“We had a list of all the times… People thought we were dating. Back in high school, remember?” I smiled slightly at the memory, thinking back to all the time we used to spend with each other in high school. 

No one was surprised when we went to the same college, since we had spent so much of high school half joint at the hip. Even our mutual friends were convinced we were secretly dating. It happened enough times that one day, Jack whipped out a notebook and wrote down all the times we could think of being asked. We just kept adding, until college happened and… I honestly don’t know what happened to the notebook. 

“Oh, yeah, that! I think Medda tossed it out on accident… But we have our memories, right?” Jack said, regret flashing in his eyes. I just smiled at him sadly.

“Yeah. So, what time should we get going in the morning?”

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was probably midnight when I heard a loud, metallic bang. 

I sat up sharply, scrambling out of the sheets to make sure that Jack hadn’t hit his head and died from the top bunk. 

“Dave, you okay?” Jack asked, glancing at me from his mattress. 

“Did you hear that?” I questioned, gesturing to the ceiling where I had heard the bang. 

“What?” 

“Some sort of bang… I think the heater went out,” I said, suddenly realizing I couldn’t hear the rattle of the heating anymore. 

“...Shit. Should we get Joanna?” Jack asked. There was a beat of silence as we made eye contact, and it dawned on me that neither of us wanted to wake up this poor old woman to tell her.

This is the height of being gen z. I thought, realizing how screwed we were. 

“It… It’ll probably be fine,” I stammered, sitting back on my bunk. The air was already getting colder, and the wind howled against the cabin. 

“...Get over here. You ain’t getting hypothermia on my watch,” Jack said, rolling his eyes and gesturing to himself. I felt my face heat up for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night. 

“A- are you sure that you’re-”

“Oh, can it Jacobs. I don’t need your sister sicced on me because I didn’t do what I could to make sure you survived the night,” Jack pointed out, sounding mildly annoyed. I would’ve been more convinced if I didn’t see that he was also blushing, and had that look… That weird look he got when he was looking at a pretty girl or guy.

This is totally platonic. I reminded myself, climbing the ladder while holding my blankets. Jack nodded at me, tossing all of our blankets over the two of us. 

I didn’t think I would be able to sleep with him right there, but something about his body heat and the crashing energy drinks was enough to lull me to sleep…

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Davey, you still sleeping?” Jack whispered. My eyes snapped open, and the events of the previous night hit me like a truck. I turned to look at Jack, who was still laying down beside me. 

“Yeah,” I croaked. Jack nodded, and I felt him draw away from me. 

Wait, away? 

It was only then that I realized how close we are. 

And that my head had been practically laying on his chest. 

“Sorry,” I muttered, shifting away from him. 

“It’s okay. Warmth, y’know,” Jack said gruffly, sitting up. I scooched away from him  and climbed down the ladder, the cold air piercing my skin. 

“We should get going soon… I’m sure Medda is ready to have my head for having you out on a night like that,” I pointed out, dashing to the assorted vents that had our assorted winter wear, half-dried. 

“She could never, Dave, you know she prefers you,” Jack grinned, rolling his eyes.

“Well, she adopted you,” I pointed out. “She must’ve liked you enough to want you in her life forever.” 

“She once threatened to take away my dessert privileges if we ever stopped talking,” Jack said, deadpan.

“Those brownies are no joke. I’m glad you were able to put up with me,” I chuckled. 

“I don’t put up with you, Jacobs,” Jack said, self-deprecation seeping into his words. I stopped re-packing, and crossed the room to talk to him, being sure to drive my point home.

“Neither of us put up with one another, kay?” 

“I- damn, Dave, makin’ us have a moment here,” Jack said, red creeping up his face. I stepped back, apologizing under my breath. 

“No, no, it’s fine. You always had more of an emotional range then I did,” Jack shrugged, regret tainting his words. 

A few minutes later, we were packed. Jack and I both had our jackets, scarves, mittens and hats on. 

“I got it,” I said, grabbing the doorknob and pushing. 

It didn’t budge. Not even a centimeter. I shook the door, throwing my weight onto it to the best of my ability. 

“Let me try,” Jack said, grabbing my hand around the knob. I felt a sharp shock, and felt my heart kick into overdrive, pounding in my ears. 

His hands were soft. 

Jack was still struggling with the door, jiggling it aggressively.

“Its just a bit… Frozen,” Jack grunted, slamming the door with all of his linebacker strength. The door flew open, a few healthily sized pieces of ice spaying onto the fine bed of snow.

Jack had opened a door to a winter wonderland. Due to its remote location, Joanna’s Nightly Cabins and Bunks was peak stock photo winter. 

The trees were frosted with white, like they were some sort of cake, or one of Jack’s drawings. There was a big, sprawling field with a few snow dusted cabins. The main house Joanna lived in was mostly cleared (we assumed she had cleared it herself… somehow), but by far the most shocking part was-

“Oh shit, my car,” Jack said, attempting to run across the lawn to the snow-covered lump that was his vehicle. This didn’t work well, since there was almost several feet of snow covering the ground. He had only made it about 10 feet when he collapsed into the drift, his legs having been unable to fight the snow. 

I found myself half-laughing, despite being mildly worried as I helped him up. 

“We are so screwed, Davey,” Jack said, his brow furrowing as his Manhattan twang set into his words. That’s how I knew he was really worried- his accent only set in when he was drunk, sick, angry, or stressed.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll call a plow, or a tow… We’ll find some way out of here,” I assured him, holding him by the waist so he wouldn’t fall. He leaned into me, obviously not against me touching him. Well, really it was his coat, but it still felt nice. 

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jack asked. I could feel my phone vibrating in my coat pocket, probably the boys and our families asking where we are. 

“I dunno… I might as well call now,” I shrugged, pulling out my phone and tapping on Google to find the number. 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Thank you… Goodbye,” I said, just about to hang up when a powdery, cold something hit my back. I swiveled around to see none other than Jack, a small arsenal of snowballs beside him.

“Oh, you did not just-” 

“I did, Jacobs,” he grinned maniacally. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“You’re on!” I shouted, frantically grabbing snow and packing it into a solid ball. The snow was perfect for snowball fights, just the right texture. And I was wearing gloves, so it wouldn’t stick to any yarn on my mittens. 

Jack pelted me with a snowball, hitting my shoulder with a solid thwack! I pretended to fall from the shock of the hit, then rolled towards him, tossing a ball at his neck. It hit him slightly above his collar bone, and I heard him laugh evilly as he ran towards me. 

“YOU’VE MADE A MISTAKE FROM CHALLENGING ME, DAVEY JACOBS!” He yelled, attempting to grab me. I rolled away, standing above him with my superior five inches, and began to dodge snowballs, left and right while making my own. 

“JOKES ON YOU, I LEARNED FROM THE MASTER-- SARAH JACOBS!” I screeched, hitting him in the head with a snowball. 

“BUT I WENT AGAINST THE GREAT RACETRACK HIGGINS!” he objected, hitting my left arm.

“WHO LEARNED FROM SARAH JACOBS!” I shot back, hitting his lower thigh.

“AH, BUT YOU ARE NOT HER!” he pointed out, dashing away again in an attempt to confuse me.

“YES, BUT I AM HER BROTHER!” I said, dodging a ball from my right.

“THE MORE WATERED-DOWN VERSION, I SEE!” he shouted, attempting to dodge a ball coming for his torso and failing.

“OHO, YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THAT!” I yelled, smiling like a fool and running towards him to the best of my ability. He grinned darkly, and I realized my mistake. 

I was attempting to tackle a college football player. First string. 

Before I could even comprehend how terrible of an idea it was to try and tackle a football player as an English major with limited athletics experience, I was on the ground and- 

His lips were on mine. 

Too passionately to be accidental. 

His hand had somehow made its way to my back, and he was holding me like he had in the night. And… It felt right. More real and right and perfect then I thought it would.

I grabbed his face so I could feel him closer. Though I think a part of me knew it would never feel close enough. 

He was doing this thing, I think to keep us warm, where he was rubbing up and down my back to keep the heat. And he kept letting me pull him closer while we just laid there, kissing in the snow.

Kissing in the snow. A romantic concept, one that lovesick teens would only dream of doing. Kissing two days before Christmas. Kissing like it wasn’t the end of the world, like we had all the time in the world. Kissing my best friend. Kissing the man who knew how to get me back when I was drifting. 

Kissing in the snow. Because sometimes, snow and too much time wasted away from each other was enough to make a teenage dream come true. 

And maybe I was okay with a winter teenage dream. 

I was okay with kissing in the snow.

[saelwen]

Your Witcher

Dark!Geralt of Rivia x Shy!Reader

Chapter Seven

Masterlist

Summary: You were a shy girl that worked on the tavern of your town, serving drunken men that came to drown all their problems in alcohol. On one of your busy days on the tavern, you grabbed the attention of a certain witcher. In which resolve you being taken away by the white-haired witcher. (Sorry I´m bad at summaries 😂)

Warnings: Angst, a little bit of smut

Words:1.400

The sound of something heavy drag on the floor woke you up. Opening slowly your eyes, you saw Geralt dragging a large iron chest inside the room, making it, even more, smaller than before. Confused, you sit up on the bed, rubbing away the sleep from your e/c eyes.  

The metal chest was decorated with small runes that glowed like fireflies flying on a warm summer night. Titling your head to the side, you look down to the lock and see that it hasn’t any. Weird...

“Oh!...Good morning, princess!” He said with a rich deep voice, forcing a shiver to run down your spine. Lifting your head, you meet his lusty eyes. You nod gently and focus your gaze on the strange chest again, wondering of what it contains. He follows your gaze and smirk, patting gently on the cold iron. “It a surprise, princess!... For you and our lovely dog.” He said while smiling wickedly to you. Your eyes widened with fear, scared of what he had in mind for you and Alice.  

“W..What do you want from me!?” You hiss at him, surprised by how loud your voice came out. His face was also contoured with surprise but vanished quickly and changed to an evil smile. He walks to the bed, sitting slowly beside you. His large hand cups your heated cheeks and stroke his thumb gently. “Well, well, well... It seems that my sweet little princess is feisty today.” He said while moving his hand down to your neck, squeezing gently. You look down and your body starts shaking in fear and with... excitement. His golden eyes pierce yours, looking almost to your soul. The smirk on his lips grew as he notices your body begin to fill with thrill, he leans down and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips. “Don’t worry, princess...You will know very soon of what’s inside of this chest.” He whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.  

You push him away and curl your arms around your chest, hiding your bare breasts from his carnal gaze. He then stood up and walk back to the door, looking to you over his massive shoulder. “I’m going out for a while...be a good girl and stay here. The dog will guard the house a while I’m gone.” With that, he locks the door. Tears start rising to your eyes but this time you seal them away, tired of crying all the time.  

Lying down, you pull the soft blankets over your naked body. Outside you could hear Geralt walking away and Alice patrolling around the hut, sniffling and growling to the sounds that came out from the woods. Letting out a heavy sigh, you roll to the side. Watching the flames dancing together in the warm fireplace. You are so tired...tired of being lock in this small room, tired of being used by that monster. Closing your eyes, you try to sleep since there’s nothing to do here but as your eyes begin to close a growl sounded behind you. Jumping up the bed, you look behind you seeing nothing but a wooden wall.  

Frowning, you put your hand on the wall, feeling a gush of warm wind pass through your fingers. You look more closely and saw a small crack between the two thick logs. Peeking through the small hole, you saw a bright blue eye looking back to you. Alice...  

“You smell so good, Y/n... I can still smell my scent on you...” she growls lowly while sniffing the air around her. A shiver runs down your spine, her deep voice made you whimper quietly and your slit wet as you remember how her warm long tongue felt so good inside you. “W..What did he do to you, Alice?” You asked shyly, trying to not let her know how she makes you hot and bothered.  

She let out a loud laugh, almost like a howl and claw the wall outside. “Nothing bad... He only set me free from that stupid human life. Now, I can do whatever I want... And what I want is to crack this stupid wall open and take you into the dark woods, mate you until you couldn’t feel your little cute legs!” Her voice was dark and dangerous, awakening more your excitement.  

Letting out a shaking breath, you shook your head and bite tightly your lower lip, drawing some blood. “This isn’t you, Alice. You need to fight this spell! I know you can do it.” You whisper to her, trying to bring her back to the light but she just stood there laughing at your words. “Oh, sweet Y/n! You don’t know me. Never known!... Now, the master told me that i could have some fun with his little princess... and that’s i will do after patrolling one more time. Be prepared, Y/n!” She said while clawing more the wall with her sharp nails. She walks away, talking loudly about the things that she will do to you on the bed.  

You crawl back to your corner and cry into your hands. You need to find a way out of this hell and quick!  

                                                  /// \\\

Geralt stops roach as he saw the large gates in the distance. Petting gently roach’s neck, he climbs down and guides her to the gates. The sounds of the birds and soft wind stopped as he arrives at the gates, making it look like he had stepped into another dimension.  

Suddenly the large gates open with a loud squeak, making roach let out a nervous huff. “Easy, roach!” He said while walking down the path that leads to a gigantic old palace. When he arrived at the massive pair of wooden doors, Geralt wrap roach’s reins around an old tree. “Stay here.” He mumbled to the mare, patting her snout.  

Walking up the marble stairs, he pushes the heavy doors open. Inside was dead silent, dark as the night. Taking a careful step forward, he looks around the darkroom. His golden eyes accommodating the darkness around him, seeing the place was full of good quality decorations that were full of dust for not being used for decades.  

As he walks to the middle of the room, he heard a gentle humming coming from the long dark hallway beside him. Taking a deep breath, he follows the calm voice.

Geralt stops in front of a door that was cracked open. Peeking through, he saw a small blond figure standing beside the warm fireplace, combing her long hair with her delicate fingers. 

Stepping inside, his heavy footsteps grab the attention of the blond woman. Turning her head around, she looks at him with a huge smirk on her delicate face. “Geralt! It’s been so long!” She said with a cheerful voice.  

He lets out a hmm and walks slowly to her, eyeing her carefully. “Do you have it?” He asked with a snarl, making her smirk grew bigger on her beautiful angelic face. “Oh my... I see that you eager to return to your pet.” She said with a mocking voice, standing up and walking to the small table beside the red old sofa.  

She opens the drawer and took out a black bottle, then she walks to him and put gently the bottle on his large hand. “Give her one spoon every day for a week.” Geralt looks down at the black bottle, seeing the strange black gluey moving inside. He nods and puts the bottle on his belt. “Will it work?” He asked, looking down at her reddish eyes.  

The witch smiled wickedly and nods, letting out a small giggle. “Of course, Witcher!... Now, let’s begin with my payment.” She said while rubbing her soft hands on his chest, undoing his chest armor. He rolls his golden eyes and pulls her roughly to him, kissing her plumps lips hungrily.  

They both fell naked on the fur rug in front of the fireplace, kissing and touching. Her moans and groans filled the cold room while he thrust roughly into her. 

The light from the blazing fire made their skin glow with their sweat. As he sucked her lovely skin on her neck, Geralt look up, smirking while thrusting harder into the blond woman, seeing the black bottle beside his pants that contains your new future.  

You will never leave me again, Princess... Never.

Hey Guys!!! Well, I hope you like this new chapter. Feel free to comment and tell me what you think!! 

Also, I will start a series of one-shots of Monsters x reader! Because who doesn´t love a good old romance with a demon.😂 Stay tuned for that!

Taglist is OPEN

XOXO

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