#it wasn't just angst for fitz

[creetchure]

i hate alden vacker because he sent two of his pre-school age children alone, unsupervised, and mostly unreachable in crisis, to a place they would not know at all and also contains multitudes of dangers to children that young. everything else he did in the books is debatable and arguably excusable under the circumstances, whatever; but sending his six year old sons to the forbidden cities on their own is. not. he, and i could not stress this enough, would have lost custody for endangerment and neglect in a human court of law. because someone could have straight up just grabbed alvar or fitz, and it wouldn't have mattered how smart they were because an Adult Human would still easily overpower a 1st grader. no matter how good a father he might be otherwise, that is unforgivable to me.

[dreaming-of-the-end]

14: a lesson in knowing regret when you see it

A/N: Alternate title: a lesson in being broken in every way that counts. Fitz is doing great everyone! Keefe is doing better! Dex is in this one! Please comment/reblog if you like <3 New chapters on Sundays and Thursdays!

Warnings: death mention, blood mention

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Fitz watches Dex’s fingers shake on his newest gadget as he tries to shove wires through a tiny hole, and feels a little like shaking himself.

He’s in an elegant, emerald green chair that’s horrendously out of place in the messy tech and elixirs filling Dex’s room to the brim. It’s not very comfortable, but he’s come to enjoy the texture of the smooth velvet.

The two of them haven’t spoken in over fifteen minutes, but Fitz finds that it’s okay. They’ve made a habit of getting together once a week since Fitz came out of the Healing Center with a broken leg and an uncertain heart. This silence is one he’s used to, one he’s grown familiar with.

Fitz is content to watch Dex put together the new weapons or shields or helpers that will decide battles for them. But his hands are shaking. He’s never seen his hands shake like that. Only in the days when he and Sophie came back from being kidnapped, and Fitz went to the Healing Center and Dex had been pale and blotchy red at the same time, tears leaking from his eyes like he didn’t know how to hold them back anymore. Or when Fitz had been stabbed by the arthropleura and Dex had apologized for the first time.

So Fitz breaks the silence. “Need any help?”

Dex laughs, but not rude like he once would have. He’s on his stomach on the floor, various odds and ends, springs and gears and scraps flung out around him. “I don’t think so.”

“What are you making, anyway?” Fitz peers curiously at the contraption in his hand. It resembles a round ball, with six spindly legs attached to the bottom.

“It’s supposed to be a tomple.” Dex casts a frustrated glance at it. “It’s not for the Black Swan or the Council. I was taking a break from making gadgets that would break through Ruy’s shields, because these guys are really useful. They eat dust and keep things clean, but they also like to eat other things. So we can’t have an actual animal around all the elixirs, but I was thinking that if I could make one out of tech then it would only eat dust and even if it malfunctioned and ate an elixir it wouldn’t be hurt since it’s not alive. But I can’t seem to figure out how to make it navigate around all the glass bottles without breaking anything, since it also has to get between them and all that—”

A resounding crash echoes through the room, and Fitz jumps. Dex just sighs. “Ignore that. Bex is having a lovely time phasing through every wall, except Lex made everything really icy so either she surprises someone and they slip or she slips, and then they start with the snowballs…”

Fitz presses his hands to his thighs. “How’s Rex?”

Dex gives him a quick glance and looks quickly away, shadows filling his face. “Oh. He’s fine. Waiting… waiting to manifest. And all that.”

“I’m sure he will,” Fitz attempts. He knows the feeling of wanting to manifest so badly that it tears up your entire being. But he only lived with that feeling for a short while. “Twins or triplets usually are all one or the other. He’ll manifest.”

“See, that’s the problem.” Dex concentrates on his tomple, fingers constricting like he wants to squeeze it into submission. His eyebrows press together in frustration. “All you, Vackers and shit, you don’t understand that sometimes we don’t see manifesting as the most important part of a kid’s life. It doesn’t matter if he manifests. He’ll still be awesome. It doesn’t even matter.”

Fitz’s fists clench, and he wonders if Dex believes that himself. “I just meant—”

Fitz looks around at the gadgets on Dex’s floor, then the elixirs shoved to the back of the room. “Looks like it.”

“I know what you meant,” Dex snaps. Something feels like it's breaking. “It’s easier for you. Manifesting is more important for you. We don’t need abilities here. We know we’re worth something without them.”

He didn’t mean to say that. Like most everything he says, it slipped out. But he can’t take it back, not when Dex’s face is already clouding over with shadowed anger. But even though his fists clench, both of them have enough practice of being in control of their emotions that he simply says, “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know anything.”

Fitz sits still. The sweat coating his hands feels like it should be guilt, shame, the remnants of words spoken in arrogance, ignorance, entitlement. He’s right. He’s wrong. He’s fucked in the head.

He’s changed enough to know when to shut his mouth. When to accept that the world does not belong to him alone.

What can Dex know of what he’s been through? What about feeling alone even when you’re surrounded by everyone you know? Dex doesn’t make many friends but when he does, they’re loyal. Fitz can count the people he trusts on one hand, the same one that pulled the lever that lowered the glass that trapped his brother in a cage and drowned him. Alvar is a Vanisher because it meant no one could see his deception. Biana is a Vanisher because she is meant to be seen. Fitz is a Telepath because he is supposed to know both of them far too well. All of them are failures. Two out of four ain't bad in terms of fuckups, right?

So he nods.

And they leave it at that.

…

Fitz clicks his pen over and over again until he gets a headache from the sharp sound.

We don’t need abilities here. We know we’re worth something without them.

He shakes Dex’s voice from his head and wishes matchmaking packets were multiple choice instead of fill in the blank.

Because questions like “What’s your favorite flower?” and “If you could do anything you haven’t before, what would it be?” are nearly impossible to answer. He’s tempted to scribble out an easy answer like roses or visit trollish cities but he knows that this is one piece of work he can’t lie on. This packet holds his entire future in a few basic questions.

What’s your favorite color?

Keefe’s arms go around Fitz’s waist, and he takes a deep breath in, blond hair tickling his nose.

Gold. It’s always been gold. He’s just about to write that when his door creaks open, and Fitz stiffens. But his panic evaporates as Keefe closes the door behind him, moving immediately towards him and burying his head in his shoulder.

It’s natural and unnatural at the same time, familiar and new, right and wrong. Keefe’s ribs feel bonier than usual, hollowed with exhaustion and hunger and maybe wanting. His shoulders shake, and Fitz slowly moves one hand to his back and the other to his neck, bringing them impossibly close.

Fitz’s face is heated with something, maybe the remainder of what Sophie had misinterpreted about their relationship and maybe because of the terror coursing through his body. A lump sits in his throat, heart beating too quickly. He’s nothing but bones set on fire, frosted with heat and broken in every way that counts.

“Hey,” he murmurs gently, his voice rough, not quite strong enough. “What’s wrong?”

Keefe lifts his head carefully, and when he looks Fitz full in the face his eyelashes are clumped together with tears. He shakes his head.

Fitz’s thumb moves against Keefe’s neck, and he shudders, eyes lowering, and suddenly he lands back inside his body and realizes that their lips are barely an inch away, trembling with distance. Fitz drops his hands and steps away, and Keefe curves in on himself like a plant without sun.

I know you’re in love with him.

Keefe drops onto the bed and curls into a ball on top of the navy blue covers. Fitz hesitates, then sits down beside him. His hand hovers over Keefe’s head for a moment, skates around his cheek, but doesn’t touch him and soon comes back to rest in his lap.

“Sorry,” Fitz says, and his voice breaks halfway through into jagged shard of glass.

Keefe shakes, his tears soaking into the sheets. His hair sticks to his forehead and the back of his neck with sweat, his face so red it looks sunburned.

When he ran away again.

And Fitz lands back in the moments after Keefe first woke up from his coma. The numbness followed by the silence, waking up on the floor and seeing Keefe’s sweaty, pale face a mask of pain and horror. Then the days after, when he refused to speak. When he pushed everyone away. When he ran away again.

Typical.

Gripped by sudden fear, Fitz laces his fingers through Keefe’s and transmits, Can we speak mind-to-mind?

Keefe shakes his head.

“Okay,” Fitz says aloud, panic snatching breath from his lungs. If he holds Keefe’s hand tightly enough, he won’t be able to leave again. He considers this plan a good one, and grabs his other hand for good measure. Keefe’s grip tightens against his, fingers clammy and shaking. “We don’t have to talk. That’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s very clearly not okay. Fitz’s heartbeat isn’t slowing down. Shouldn’t it be slowing down? Why is the thought of Keefe running away making his blood race through his veins like it’s trying to win gold?

Keefe wipes his eyes with his shoulder. They sit there for long enough that Fitz lays down next to him, slowly loosening his grip on his hands.

After what feels like years, Keefe opens his eyes again. They’re rimmed with red and the shadows under them are enough to fill the Sanctuary with darkness. They study Fitz’s face with curiosity and a bit of fear, mouth opening slowly to croak: “Sorry.”

Fitz lets his breath escape. They face each other on the bed, each on their sides. “For what?”

“For—” His voice is jerky, words strung together with paperclips all bent out of shape. “For getting snot all over your pillow. And all over you.” He attempts to retrieve his smile, but partially fails, wavers.

He should be sorry for making Fitz feel like this. For being made of confusion, of butterflies, of thunder, of clouds. “What happened?”

So Keefe tells him about Cassius summoning him, and an argument, and beginnings and endings, and sweat and tears. Stop telling the truth. Start lying again. Please start lying again.

“I didn’t know how to make it— how to— Shit, Fitz. What did I do?” Keefe buries his face in his hands, and this time Fitz lets himself place his hand on his hair, moving closer.

“I won’t say it wasn’t your fault. I won’t even say he deserved it,” he says, and Keefe looks at him in half-anger and half-guilt. “But you did what you had to do.”

“How does that make it any better?” Keefe doesn’t move as Fitz takes his hand away, eyes creasing with distress.

“It doesn’t,” Fitz tells him. “Nothing makes it better.”

“So how do I live with this power?” Keefe searches his gaze, pressing his lips tight like even the reminder of its existence is enough to send the compulsion through him.

“I don’t know the answer to that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to?”

This means: Haven’t you done worse?

Fitz doesn’t respond, and soon Keefe moves closer and rests his head right next to his chest, an apology.

“Ruy is dead,” Keefe says. “Tam killed him.”

Fitz thinks about shadows and echoes and saltwater tears. He thinks about the crutches resting at the side of the door in case he needs them and the talk a few months back of giving him a knee brace for emergencies, and the weeks in the Healing Center, listening to everyone’s murmurs and worry and anger. And he thinks about shields and how they trap and protect, about electricity and the way it arcs as it cuts through the air, and blood dripping down chins, and he thinks about cages, and vanishing and reading minds and creatures that are hungry for more than the dust they were meant to eat. He thinks about his brother.

“Good.”

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

Under the same Moon

Pippa Fitz Amobi X fem reader

Summary: Sleep. Fascinating topic, really. Did you know that being near someone you love can actually help you fall asleep faster? It’s all about oxytocin—the cuddle hormone. When you’re close to someone you care about, your body releases it, calming your nerves and easing you into slumber.”

Warnings: infinite fluff, Pippa Fitz Amobi being a cuddle bug, insomnia comfort. Some light angst at the beginning, and panic attack Pip and Stanley Forbes mention. Pip being the ultimate girlfriend and dancing you in her arms, humming Pippa Fitz Amobi just for your amusement and request. A few curse words. Could be used as a sleep aid? but more for some comfort and of course all the hugs to Pip. SPOILER BOOK TWO MENTIONS

words: 3.3k+

Author Note: Could possibly have turned out better but alas I have some other Pip ficts lined up in the near future.

It was always there. The sound of the bullet hitting the ground was so vivid and loud in Pip's mind, etched into the way her brain was formed. Lodged in her memory, didn't matter how much time had passed it was still there, forever looming over her like some curse she couldn't lift.

It was here now as she typed on her computer, blue-grey eyes looking downcast as she eyed the illuminated screen in the dark hollowed room of your flat, the small space illuminated only by the small yellow desk lamp that waddled every time she typed a single letter. Pip flinched upon every touch of the keyboard, the sound of the gunfire hiding in every click and every creak of the flat. Pip inwardly cursed herself, 'You're better than this be better than this'.

She admonished herself for every weak thought and every day she would smile and laugh because it felt like in some odd morbid way she was forgetting Stanley, moving on with her life when he didn't have the chance to. It made her knuckles white and blanched when she would think about him, it wasn't as often anymore, and Pip didn’t know what was worse, having him has a ghost or forgetting him and making him into one. Before she would wake up with strangled cries in her throat and would thrash around till you would turn on the bedside lamp and take her into your arms, press butterfly kisses to her warm flushed skin, and cacoon her like some baby Joey in need of its mother's pouch. At first, pip had found it to be embarrassing. She was a young woman now, capable of so many things, she had solved two cases that even Little Kilton police hadn’t been able to. And yet every night without fail you held her close with your soft eyes and even softer hair that would tickle her sides and make her lips lift up into an eager calm grin like some sort of drug from the chemist.

Pip couldn't help but smile when she thought back to you, her grey eyes crinkled inward and she found her chest was lighter, like she could finally breathe after such a long time of her head being underwater. Her eyes moved to the clock, it was witching hour it seemed, 3 am in the small flat on the outskirts of London. When anxiety would take hold of every bone in her body pip knew that it was best to retreat back to you, it was better than having a night full of night terrors and memories of Stanley plaguing her mind.

Turning off her laptop she padded her way softly into the room, eyes taking in the way you breathed, Pip was clever enough to notice that your chest didn’t move as slow, and your eyes were open and staring at the wall like you were in deep thought. “What is a pretty girl like you doing up at this ungodly hour?” She moved to sit in the bed beside you, the soft mattress dipping underneath as she slowly pulled you to her chest, seeking that comforting warmth scent that only you could provide.

You buried your cheeks into her neck, hearing Pip giggle when your warm cheeks met her cool neck. “I’ve been thinking is all. I want to sleep but my brain won’t shut off, it’s like a bloody mouth that doesn’t know when to stop yapping. I’ve been up since you left”.

Pip sucked in a breath, she had left you at a quarter to nine hoping that you had been asleep, but now she felt even more angry with herself. “You mean you haven’t slept at all? All night?”. Her voice was filled to the brim with concern, etched into her furrowed brows and the way the soft pads of her fingers brushed against your hairline, trailing over your skin with gentle ease.

You furrowed your nose, a smile lifting your lips. Whether by utter exhaustion or simply because of being in the presence of a concerned cuddle bug Pippa Fitz Amobi you didn’t know, “It’s cute when you act all concerned pippa…but I’ve been dealing with this for a long while. I just need some melatonin. I just haven’t the time to have a drop-off at the chemist. I suppose I should soon” You smiled softly at her, but Pip knew by the bags under your eyes and the fatigued glint in your colored hues that you were positively hanging on by a thread. She was too, emotionally more so.

“I can’t sleep either. It’s Stanley” she spoke. Her grey flecks eying your soft eyes seemed to fill with hurt at the man’s name. “I’m so-“Pip sighed into your neck, feeling that rush of emotions and the way her tears brimmed out of her eyes, fast and without even acknowledging her and asking if she felt like crying and the weight that came with crying. The weighted chest and unbearable stuffy nose.

“I’m so angry”. The words rushed out, muttered into your warm skin. You instinctively moved to wrap your arms around your girl, your fingers working effortlessly in her hair, massaging her neck and kissing the inner workings of her warm forehead. You knew Pip and her utter distaste for crying, for “sniveling like a school child” she would say. You knew how clever and logical she was, how she worked well with certain aspects of life. Emotions were not one of them.

“I’m so angry at myself for feeling normal. For the first time in years, I feel like myself again. I feel happy..” at this pip clung to you, “and I feel selfish because half of me yearns for that, yearns for a life with you where I don’t feel guilty, where I can leave Stanley behind in peace knowing that I did all I could”.

But did she?

Had she really truly tried enough?

Pip was brought out of her inner thoughts by warm solid hands on her cheeks, bringing her eye level with you. You looked conflicted as you eyed her; like a million thoughts were floating around your head.

Your fingers cupped her chin gently, “that was not your fault….that was not your fault”. Your words were hard and filled to the brim with utter conviction that Pip knew you were right. Some deep part in her mind hidden away recognized you were right. Whether she wanted to admit it was difficult to say.

“You did all you could pip. God that house was on fire and you still tried all you could”. You chuckled, emotion in your eyes as you peered down at your girlfriend’s eyes. They were such a dark color of blue in this light, a deep solar system blue that you would love to peer at through bed sheets and often times upside down as you would kiss her lips before departing.

But now they were filled with anguish, and it hurt you to know that. You wished you could take it all away. The hurt, the anger, the feeling of loss. Of looking over your shoulder. But you knew you couldn’t, so you settled for being her comforter.

“I don’t want you to blame yourself anymore my love”. You wiped a tear from her pale cheeks. “Say it…it wasn’t my fault”.

It took a second, more than a second. Pip struggled to say the words, her lips shook and her eyes pooled with unshed tears, and through it all, you held her closer and leaned your forehead against hers, eye to eye, heart to heart, pulse to pulse.

“You can do it pip” you urged, your voice gentle, soft as if soothing a child.

Pip drew in a long breathe, her breathing ragged as she closed her eyes and tears fell down her pale cheeks, but soon they were open and eying you with such adoration you couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault…I didn’t…I didn’t kill Stanley”.

You wanted to cry too at her admission. Wanted to bring her close and cry into her neck and tell her that she was so strong, a solid person with a strong courageous heart. You wanted to cocoon her close and never let go. Never let the world bark and scratch at her like they had, had been ever since the case. You wanted to keep her all to yourself, some selfish part of you wanted to keep her close.

You settled for an encouraging smile, the tips of your fingers ghosting over her lips, “yeah…that was good love. You did so well”.

Pip immediately dove into your arms, landing on your lap and cuddling into like a koala would its mother, you chuckled, pulling her flush against you.

“I love you”.

The admission made your heart flutter and leap. You loved this girl too, sometimes so bad that it hurt, and you knew you would do anything for her. Anything. Pip could ask you to jump, simple, and you would ask with your adoring eyes ‘How high?’. It was almost panic-inducing how much your love-filled heart was stitched together by pip.

“I love you pippa fitz Amobi. More than you could ever know”.

Pip smiles that wide bashful smile, her grey eyes glinting as she moves from her spot on your chest, her demeanor shifting as her sneaky nimble fingers fly up your arm till they make contact with your chin, pulling gently but firmly that you felt like a deer in headlights as pip loomed over you, her eyes a deep and hollow blue, taking in everything from your sleep shirt to your messy tousled bed head, strands of wavy hair falling at your shoulders.

Pip could feel her heart soar in her chest as she eyed you, under her, under her fingertips. Something in her preened at knowing you were hers, it screamed the word ''MINE' over and over again as her eyes scanned you, leaving her dizzy and full of aching want. A want that made her want to pull you close and never let you go. Wanted her to hear your heartbeat against her ear during long nights and know that even if she was far away in her head you were across the room with your sweet smile and kind eyes. You were always there. And she needed that.

“God I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are” Pip’s voice was soft yet hoarse from her crying, but her eyes were delicate as she smiled that same pip smile. The smile that made your stomach twirl and your heart face at just the sight.

At the same moment, Pip jumped from bed, so fast and sudden you didn’t even register her soft fingers as they pulled you up from your comfy bed, “I have a brilliant idea, come with me”. Her voice was tinged with excitement and a teasing smile that made your head fill with cotton.

Before you knew it pip was pulling you into your dark kitchen nothing but the shine of the moon looming over you two, a smile on her face as she briskly filled the kettle with water quite impatiently and placed it on the hob, all while eying you with bright teasing blue eyes.

“What are we doing?” You giggled as Pip moved closer to you, a new glint in her eye as she pulled you close, her hands firm in the way they held you, “Dancing” she stated, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Pip began to rock you back and forth, steady in her movements.

“There isn’t any music pip!” You giggled into her neck but you didn’t mind, not one bit. Not when Pip was laughing and her eyes had a shine to them as she pulled a certain move and twirled you around your small cramped kitchen flat. Pippa Fitz Amobi was dancing around your shared flat with wild abandon, brown chestnut curls wild as she pulled you close to her chest and rocked her body with yours, giggling and laughing along the way at your absolutely horrid dance moves. Although she could never have them, not when you looked so flushed and so beautiful.

She couldn’t help but watch you as your lips flew into a smile that filled her aching heart with joy. The type that she searched for when she was too far gone, lost in the memories that haunted her, you had always been her light in the tunnel of life. Pulling her out of the dark depths of her mind and making her feel like she was the only one in the world. She was more than the girl who solved cases, more than everything little Kilton and the world had coined her as.

Pip also just didn’t understand how you could look so devastating and heart wrenchingly attractive with your pajama shirt that rode up a few inches and your hair an unruly mess, but you were. A sight for sore eyes as she brought you fast into a twirl into her chest holding you close and laughing into your neck when you teased her about her moves.

It was only till the giggles had halted and you relaxed your body into her tight embrace that you began to watch the way Pip’s eyes eyed you. Gone was the playful joyful pip, her embrace was soft yet held a certain air to it as she began to eye your lips. A quick snap to your pink crimson cheeks most likely brought on by the wild dance in the kitchen and Pip was leaning down to connect your lips. Her fingers moved to take your chin in her palm, her kiss soft and gentle but slowly building up speed as she pushed you up onto the counter, careful not to get you close to the kettle. You responded in time, your own fingers pulling her in closer by her hair and you smiled vigorously when Pip gasped into your lips and her tongue began to tease your lips with that wild curiosity that made your stomach twist and the white-hot heat slide into your veins.

Kissing Pip was like a dream, the way your chest would ignite and fill your heart with that spark, that fluttering in your chest that you knew was love. You began peppering kisses against her jaw and nipping at her ear the way you knew she liked when the sudden scream of the kettle caused Pip to sigh against you and pull away.

Her cheeks were ruddy and her lips pink as she licked her lips, sighing into you with broken breaths.

“Like that dance did you?”.

You smiled and jumped of the counter, Pip being her usual gentlewoman self and offering you help, her fingers almost possessive as she lifted you of the counter and onto your feet.

“You just sit right there pretty girl"” she stated before going back to the kettle and pouring copious amount of milk into the mugs.

You wanted to listen to Pip and sit on the stool like the good girl you were, but you were also curious about what Pip was doing, she had never acted so in the moment filled with sporadic ideas till now.

“What are you doing? I was so distracted by your sudden dance performance I didn’t ask what you were doing” you spoke into her as you wrapped your arms around her figure, leaning your head over her shoulder slightly as she pulled some Cadbury chocolate mix into each before stirring.

“I’m making us some hot chocolate, isn’t that what your mum use to make when you were little? You mentioned when you couldn’t sleep your mum would make you some hot chocolate and you’d talk and talk till you fell asleep. I thought we could keep that tradition”

The warmth that filled your chest was light and you only smiled that shy smile, you had mentioned that to Pip maybe once in primary school, in the canteen filled with the anxious rambling pupils of Kilton grammar and you had been sure she hadn’t heard you, but she apparently had.

“I mentioned that to you in year 10 pip, I honestly thought you hadn’t heard or you didn’t quite remember” you spoke and Pip shook her head, mouth twisted in a bewildered expression, “of course, I remembered! You were the cutest thing sitting in front of me with your wild fast lips. Who else would I have paid attention to?” Pip asked, her lips warm as she pressed a firm kiss to your forehead and handed you your cup, “it’s hot so be careful”.

“Do we have any peppermint sticks? ”

“I still don’t get your obsession with those peppermint sticks” Pip spoke, shaking her head before producing one and stirring it in your cup, but she had to admit the sight of you with a candy stick between your wet pink lips was definitely something she had never seen before.

Once Pip had her cup and tasted some, her expression filled with utter kiddish glee she took you by your waist as you both stumbled back into bed, you chastising Pip to be careful over your sheet covers as you had just done a full washing the day before did pip laugh and smile, “I’m always observant and careful my love, I did solve two cases remember?”.

“Of course of course my mistake inspector Amobi” you chuckled into your cup.

Your flat was calm and quiet as you and pip some, laughs and giggles falling out of your mouths, “Cara did not say that. She would never!”

Pip eyed you with wild eyes, “have you even met Cara? That is exactly something she would say! She has an ungovernable tongue that girl”.

“Speaking of ungovernable tongues” you spoke, putting your mug down on the nightstand and moving into Pip’s lap, eyes taking in the way her eyes flew down to your mouth.

“That little make-out session you gave me in the kitchen was very well received” you spoke, smiling against her lips when she pulled you in for one more long kiss, stealing the air from your lungs and making your stomach flip with every brush of her fingers against your skin.

“Are you still sleepy?” She asked between kisses, and you chuckled. “I would totally fuck you on this bed right now if I could but my eyes are closing and I feel like I’m eating your lips” you mumbled.

Pip laughed, breaking the kiss before moving to lean her head against yours.

“I should probably get my tired girl to bed shouldn’t I? You have an early morning and it’s already 3:30. Sleep. Fascinating topic, really. Did you know that being near someone you love can actually help you fall asleep faster? It’s all about oxytocin—the cuddle hormone. When you’re close to someone you care about, your body releases it, calming your nerves and easing you into slumber.” pip spoke as she pulled you to her chest, all clever tongue as you both positioned yourself under the covers.

You smiled at her knowledge, moving to nestle your cheeks into her chest. Her fingers were soft as they drew calming circles of messages on your hair, the world calm and dark as you listened to her heartbeat, it was strong and seemed to lull your wild thoughts in your mind.

“Would you mind if I asked you a favor?” Your words were slurred, evidence of your tired state. Pippa chuckled and smiled even through her sleepy state, her fingers still managing to caress your cheeks and your hairline. Soft touches that eased your eyes closed. It reminded you of your mother and her soft eyes.

“What would this favor be?” Pip spoke, her anxiety had calmed down significantly and having you in her arms was like a dream, a way to lull her to sleep and calm her night terrors.

“Could you hum me to sleep?”. You were too tired to care how childish you sounded, but pip had a calming humming voice, soft and delicate that filled your head with warmth.

“For you anything”.

The soft hum of pip’s voice was all you needed. It only took a few moments before your eyes were closed fully and your chest rose and fell with even breathes. Pip followed behind, her fingers moving to lay over you and being you closer to her. Your calm and even breathes mixed with your warmth was the perfect calming remedy lulling her to sleep.

[multi-fandom-lunatic]

All's Fair in Love and War - Keefitz (Angst)

It was dark but it wasn't yet night. Smoke clogged the air and my throat, and fires erupted a few miles away. The once-green grass was a dead brown, sucked from its home in the soil.

Burly creatures with muscles and vengeance in their veins charged with spears and swords. They were monstrous, a sight that would find itself in a nightmare, but now they were here. They were here for me.

It was an accident, how the world went from colossal castles to the crumbling debris before me. The remnants of the buildings mocked me, glinting in the fire, sparkling like they were the same tall, beautiful structures they were before. But they weren't.

I stood up, my limbs aching and my head pounding. It was hard to breathe, hard to see in all the smoke. It enveloped me like an insult and hung over me. I stared down into the expanse, searching for a pair of ice-blue eyes, bright like the eye of a storm. All I could see was fighting, and bones in a heap on the ground.

I don't know how they hadn't caught me yet. I was in a suit, well ironed with a red tie, with blood now spilt over me. My sunglasses had fallen to the ground somewhere. It was too dark, too smoky so that I couldn't see.

Blue eyes caught with my teal ones. But it wasn't the regular Keefe blue that I loved so much. No, this was the ugliest blue ever, the most piercing kind that I felt a million knives stabbing me as I looked into them. It belonged to an ogre.

The crazed creature charged at me, spear in hand and murder in their eyes. I yelled, ducking out of the way, the spear missing me by mere inches. I shivered. I picked up a broken stick from the ground, holding it high as a weapon. That sounds pretty lame, but it was a cool stick, and I was out of options.

The ogre howled, angry that I was still alive, and threw their spear at me. I didn't dodge it this time. No, instead I hit it back with my stick. The ogre looked like they were ready to pounce. But instead, they turned away and ran at something else. I was relieved, my blood finally returning to my cheeks, but then all signs of hope disappeared.

Keefe Sencen, writhing on the ground, surrounded by fire, and a bloodthirsty ogre after his guts. I screamed so loudly my vocal cords could've passed away. I ran to him, summoning my love for him to carry me forward. I landed right in front of him, but it was a moment too late. The spear had pierced his skin.

Blood drenched the dead grass, sinking into the soil. Keefe screeched, breathing hard now that his guts were spilling out. The colour was fading from his cheeks, and his ice-blue eyes were losing their life. I ripped the suit coat off my back and tried to dab away the blood, but more just kept coming. I wanted to take out the spear, in case he got infected, but I did, he'd bleed to death, and there is nothing more terrifying to me than losing Keefe Sencen.

"Just hold on, okay?" I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "Things will work out. Somehow, they always work out."

"Fitz," Keefe croaked out, and it was terrifying, hearing his voice leave him, "I think this time, we're out of luck."

"No!" I yelled. "How can you say that? What about everything we've been through? What about us?" I choked out the last words because the thought of Keefe leaving me alone here was enough for me to throw myself into the fires. The best moments of my life flashed in my head. Keefe and I trying ice cream. Keefe and I cuddling. Keefe and I crying. Keefe and I. That's what it has always been.

And now Keefe's bloody form threatened to strip away the last sliver of sanity I had. I thought I had it so nice because when everything fell apart, they fell back together. That's what Keefe and I were. Falling apart, and falling back together.

But that magnetic reassurance was gone now. All that was there was the cold, harsh reality and warm blood spilling onto me.

"Fitz," Keefe said, tearing up. He reached and grabbed my hand, a gesture too much for him in his state. "I know things don't look too good right now, but please, Fitz, I'm not going to be alive tomorrow, let alone for the next fifteen minutes." I choked at that. He continued. "You have a life, Fitz. You had one before me and you'll have one after. It won't be the same, but please, please, please don't throw it away."

"What don't you understand, Keefe? You are my life!" I screamed. Keefe's eyes widened at that, and a soft smile settled on his face.

"Thank you," Keefe whispered. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm going to miss you so much."

Keefe's breaths were no longer shallow. They were no longer there. The pain left his body, carrying his life force with him. Keefe Sencen was dead.

I screamed so loudly all of the Forbidden Cities must have heard me. Not that there was any of it left. Keefe's blood was on my shirt, his corpse in my hands, and my heart in the grave.

The fires licked at the ground close to me, brightening my path to my inevitable death. I shivered, crawling so I was lying next to Keefe, and I placed a tentative kiss on his cold lips. The fires came close, but I did not resist them. I didn't even ask for help.

It was bright, though it was now night. I stared at the cruel stars, and the cruel world and pondered my cruel fate. I whispered, voice hushed. "We're in this together." As I allowed the flames to swallow Keefe and I whole.

***

aodsufhui;hfsd that's the Keefitz oneshot haha. Here at last. I kinda like actually which is strange because I wrote it in such a rush.

@thesfromhms this one's for you

[myfairkatiecat]

How do you feel about Sokeefe vs Fitzphie?

I think Sophie needed to date Fitz to know he wasn't right for her. I think their relationship was sweet in the beginning, and I'm glad that after years of crushing on Fitz, she got to be with him at least for a little while.

They wanted different things, and the timing happened to line up with her slowly realizing that her relationship with Keefe felt like more than friendship, and as she made that realization, it came down to a choice of who she wanted, and it was Keefe.

I don't believe that Sophie never truly liked Fitz. In fact, I think her feelings for Keefe weren't a given from the beginning, but something that slowly developed over time, getting ignored because she knew how much she cared for Fitz, and then suddenly smacking her in the face when they rose to the surface. I think there's a part of her that still has feelings for Fitz. But in the end it was a choice.

And she chose Keefe.

She chose to foster her relationship with Keefe, to let her feelings for him grow, and I think it was a good decision, especially after the nature of how her and Fitz's relationship fell apart.

I don't think Fitz was a bad boyfriend. I think neither he or Sophie were perfect in the relationship. I think that the relationship did turn slightly unhealthy towards the end, but never because Fitz Vacker was just a toxic person.

But I think Sophie and Keefe are going to work this out.

There's issues with the two of them, of course, just like there were issues with her and Fitz, but she and Keefe are going to work them out together. Is that what they need? Probably not, they actually need therapy. But I'm glad they're getting their chance to just... be in love, despite the complications. A little codependent? Sure. Should they probably get a little therapy before jumping into this relationship? Definitely, and they're not going to, so I'm gonna write all the angst fics I want. But at the end of the day I'm a Sokeefe shipper.

Actually at the end of the day, I'm a Sophie x the-guy-she-chooses-to-love shipper. (I used to ship Sophitz. I stopped after Legacy.) Because love really is a choice. Sometimes feelings sneak up on you, yes, and Sophie definitely had feelings sneak up on her, but she's choosing to love Keefe. And I think when all this is over and they work out their issues, there love has a lot of potential to be one of the purest things in the Lost Cities.

[permanently-stressed]

dexiana angst? 👀

OKAY FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOU ANON

Second,

Biana has isolationist tendencies and when her crush on Dex dawned on her she hid in her room, almost crying, because she was so afraid of the implications

Because when it came to Alvar's scandal... that wasn't her. And some people actually understood that. But if she were to enter a bad match. That was her. All eyes would be on her, and not in a good way.

When it came to the Fitzphie break up, she and Dex had a fight. He was on Sophie's side all the way and Biana was defending Fitz relentlessly

At some points she wasn't even sure if she was defending Fitz or making excuses as to why she couldn't confess to Dex

Dex had to pause for a moment and ask "... who are we talking about right now?"

Because to him it was just further proof that he and Biana weren't going to work out. She cares about the match too much, and he wouldn't play into the system.

He wonders if she's the same girl who ditched everything for the Black Swan not even a year ago

But the whole fight was very passive aggressive. It wasn't direct, there were no right answers, and that drove them both crazy.

Biana admits that she doesn't know much about what happen and they drop the discussion

It still comes up in her head a lot. And in his, too.

Biana wants to hate him for making her feel so conflicted but still knows that it isn't his fault.

Bonus Fluff Thing (because I'm awful at angst lol)

Dex confesses to her at Everglen. She doesn't know how to react but says "wait a minute" and SPRINTS to her room, gets her match packet, and says "do you have anything I could burn this with?"

[missathlete31]

Work In Progress.... Thursday?

This little conversation came to me when, (shockingly) I was thinking about Hangman angst. Basically it's a conversation between Javy and Nat after the mission, where Javy can't seem to take everyone bashing his best friend anymore (aka fandom Javy is the best Javy).

It paints Hangman in a good but sad light, (sorry I can't help it, I'm VERY BIAS towards him). But I would love to hear what people think about it.

Fair Warning: It's a very rough first draft! Also some adult language in here.

"Are you really all that fucking blind" Coyote spat, an unusual show of animosity dripping from his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"It's an act, Jesus Christ, it's a fucking act" Coyote looked her right in the eyes, any drunkeness she thought she saw was long gone, "he acts like a dick, he acts like the world's cockiest asshole but god he doesn't know any better."

"Don't excuse his bullying-"

"It's how he gets you all to fly better Phoenix, and don't even try to deny that it didn't work. He a shitty communicator but he gets results."

"Why would he bother-“

"Because he cares, shit he cares. He worries non-stop about all of you, about all of us. He brought up Bradshaw's father, a dick move I know" he cut in before Natasha could, "because he was petrified that Rooster wouldn't fly fast enough without it. He knew Mitchell was picking him for the mission and he needed to get him motivated."

"Maverick wasn't even team leader then, don't tell me Hangman knew-"

"Of course he knew, we all did. Everyone saw there was history, everyone saw the way Maverick chased after Rooster on the tarmac that first day. It was obvious he was on some sort of apology tour and was going to use the wingman spot to curry favor- I'm not saying Bradshaw didn't deliver in the end" Javy raised a hand to stop the argument she was about to make, "but you cannot tell me that he was the right choice prior. He never made it through the course under the time. He constantly ignored his group to make a point that slower was fine."

Natasha's gaze turned to Rooster who was chatting with Omaha, Fitz, Fanboy and Payback at the pool table. All was good now but Phoenix remembered the fear in Payback's voice over the comms when he knew Rooster wasn't flying fast enough; wasn't leading them fast enough. Coyote was right; she was blinded by her loyalty at the time but choosing Rooster was clearly Maverick's attempt at making amends, a decision that could have resulted in people not making it home. She turned back to see the other pilot was watching her gaze, "You knew it too,” Coyote told her softly some of his anger burned away, “you just didn't want to accept it."

"I couldn't" she looked down, "not at the time."

"I get it."

But Natasha raised her head, her own anger coming back, "Of course you do," she chided, "you’re blinded by your best friend too. You can't honestly convince me that his actions are because he cares. He insults us regularly.” she spat bitterly.

“He pushes you, in the only way he knows how.”

“Coyote-“

"Believe whatever you want" Javy shrugged, "he prefers you think the worst of him anyway."

"I mean it's just- he's-"

"I know what he is" and again that sobering look was on the man's face, "I know better than anyone and if you or any of the other's would bother to take a second to really look, you'd see it too."

"He's horrible to everyone, can you blame them-"

"Who is always the first one to text you for your birthday Natasha, no matter where either of you are stationed?"

"Okay but-"

"Who sent flowers for your grandmother's funeral? Who drove you six hours to your parents that time you were stuck four years ago? Who helped Yale get the leave he needed by trading in his own? Who made sure Rooster got to the hospital the night of his car accident in flight school? Who salvaged Halo's birthday party when everyone got reassigned at the last minute? Who fought those guys that jumped Omaha despite having no other backup? Who cleaned up when we all got trashed after the dogfight football game so Penny didn't have to on her own? I know it's easier to think of Jake Seresin as a dick but don't deny he hasn't been a friend all these years as well. I thought better of you."

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, “tell me, do you know when Jake's birthday is?"

The woman couldn't help the heat that rushed to her face from her lack of answer, "I- I don't" she admitted.

"Do you know anything about him? His family? His hometown? Anything? Did you know he never goes back home during leaves or holidays? He stays on base alone or he goes with me if I'm off the same time."

Again Nat shook her head, "I- I never realized-"

"Yeah" Coyote finished his drink and stood up from his barstool, "I didn't think so."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go check on him. I want to make sure he's alright-"

Her brow furrowed, "Why wouldn't he be?"

"Just forget it."

"No wait," she pulled at Javy's arm so he couldn't walk away, "I’m serious. I know he didn’t come out tonight but I figured he had other plans or something. Is that not the case?”

Coyote looked her dead in the eye for a moment and Phoenix felt like she was taking a test she didn’t know how to pass. Finally Javy seemed to lower his defensives, “He didn’t come out because he was trying to get some sleep” the man shared carefully.

“Oh-“ Nat couldn’t contain the surprise, “he’s having trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re worried about him” she observed softly.

“Someone has to” he shot back tightly, “because he sure as shit isn’t going to worry about himself.”

The statement caught Natasha off guard but she opted to not question it. She always thought of Jake Seresin as self centered but clearly from the stress in Javy’s posture, it seemed that cockiness was just another part of the Hangman show. Phoenix cleared her throat to get her companion’s attention, “do you think-“ she huffed out a breath, not sure how her request would be received, “do you want some company to go check on him? Maybe I can help?”

Coyote stayed silent for a moment as he watched her with a frown. His eyes shifted to the other Daggers still having fun before they rested back on the female aviator, “don’t you want to get back to the others?”

“I want to check on my friend” she amended with a raised brow, relieved when Javy matched her expression but didn’t exactly contradict her. “He’s not going to like it” Coyote offered instead, “Jake didn’t want anyone to know.”

“When have I ever done what Hangman likes” she tried to joke. It barely landed but Phoenix counted it as a win when Javy gave the tiniest of a nod towards the door, “alright, let’s go.”

Part 2:

Javy headed into the gym quickly, immediately reaching for the speed controls on the treadmill and slowing it to a walking pace. Hangman offered a weak nod as he staggered off the machine. "Thanks man" the man's voice was breathy as he panted, "went a little too hard."

"'A little hard?'" Coyote mocked, "you look ready to collapse-"

The blonde waved him off, reaching for his water bottle and taking a big sip, "I'm fine- what you doing here anyway?"

"When I didn’t see you in your bunk, I figured your dumbass would head to the gym, do you have any idea what time it is? What are you doing Jake? The treadmill says you’ve been running for 11 miles already! Are you crazy?”

The blonde pilot bristled in indignation but Javy could see the touch of embarrassment that colored Hangman's cheeks, "It’s fine” Jake argued, “It’s just a work out, don’t get all upset-"

"I will get upset because you’re meant to be trying to get some sleep" he emphasized the other man’s sweating body, "this doesn't look like sleeping."

"Just needed to get my body a little more tired before I try again-"

"Jake this is the fifth night in a row-"

"It's getting better, I was able to get twenty minutes before-"

Javy shook his head sadly, "You need to talk to someone man,"

"I'm handling it-"

"No you're not, you haven't gotten a decent night sleep since we docked and I'm getting worried.”

Hangman opened his mouth to respond but stopped when he noticed another figure in the gym, a dark haired woman standing just a few feet back, "Phoenix?" he gaped out in surprise, “what are you doing here?"

Nat offered a weak wave as she stepped closer, "Hey Bagman-"

Jake’s green eyes narrowed onto his best friend, cold with betrayal, "Why did you bring her?” He asked sternly.

Javy shrugged, "She insisted."

"For what?” Hangman asked, “ I texted you before that I was fine. I told you to enjoy your night-"

"And I wasn't. Not with you here not sleeping- come on man, let me help-"

"There's nothing to help" Jake turned to Phoenix, his voice short but with more emotions than he normally showed, “I don't know why you felt the need to come but you can head on back to the bar now, nothing to see here."

The woman refused to be deterred, "I heard you’re having trouble sleeping-“ she began.

Jake’s shot Javy another nasty look before turning back to Nat with a smirk on his face, “no actually,” he retorted icily, “I felt like a late night workout. It takes a lot to look this good-“

"Jake-" she couldn’t contain her eye roll, “you don’t have to lie”

“Lie about what Natasha?" He opened his arms like he welcomed her argument, “I’m sleeping fine okay? Javy is just being ridiculous. I’m good-“ but he cut off when Natasha’s hands grabbed his. “Jake” she whispered, waiting until his green eyes finally met hers, “please. I'm not here to judge you. It’s okay.” she motion to Javy and herself, “we both just want to help you.”

“I don’t need help!” The man continued to argue. “I told you I’m good- I can sleep anytime I want okay,” his composure started to slip, his words becoming more frantic, “I can. It’s fine. I’m fine-“

She squeezed his hand tighter, “it’s normal what you’re going through” she reasoned but the blonde aviator only shook his head, “it’s not” he finally admitted, voice broken, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” he let out a loose sob.

“Oh Jake” Nat pulled him into her chest despite their size difference, “there’s nothing wrong with you. I get nightmares too you know-"

But it was clear she said the wrong thing as Hangman jumped from her embrace as though burned. He scrubbed at his face, erasing any evidence of his breakdown. “It makes sense you have nightmares” the man explained, his tone softened at the woman’s admission, but he kept his distance. “You had the bird strike, you flew the mission. Your nightmares are warranted.” He shook his head, “I was just the spare, I never flew the course-“

Nat's eyes widen as she stared at the exhausted man in front of her. One look at Javy and she could tell that he felt just as horrified at Hangman's rationale. “Jake- you flew the mission-"

"I didn't. I was just a dick to everyone and compromised the team.”

She shook her head, "You saved Bradley and Mav, you got a confirmed kill, you saved the day-"

"And I was almost too late, the missile... I-" he trailed off, his face contorting with emotions before he was able to pull the Hangman mask back on. Jake steeled his features, “look I don't need your concern alright? Go back to the others, both of you. I'm fine-"

"Jake-" Javy argued reaching forward and gripping his best friend's arm. Jake gave it a second before he shook of the touch, "Leave me alone, I mean it."

TO BE CONTINUED: (Maybe?)

[cosmxc-ars3hol3]

and i’ll be in denial for at least a little while

Title - and i’ll be in denial for at least a little while

Rating - General Audiences

Archive Warning - No Archive Warnings Apply

Category - F/M, M/M

Fandom - Keeper of the Lost Cities - Shannon Messenger

Relationship - Councillor Kenric/Councillor Oralie (background) Councillor Bronte/Fintan Pyren (implied)

Characters - Councillor Oralie, Councillor Bronte

Additional Tags - Angst, Book 03: Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities), Short Oneshot

Summary - the aftermath of the everblaze fire at oblivimyre in book three. implied fintante, background koralie

the fic is also under the cut

“Are you alright?” he asked, sitting down next to her, the pair sat on a hill. It wasn't far from Eternalia “The stars look lovely tonight.” she replied, her voice sounded teary, but it was understandable. What they had just witnessed was unheard of to the elven community, and they had both lost people close to them, everyone had. “You didn't answer my question.” he said, not needing her to talk about why she didn't want to. He would understand “I didn't want to lie,” Oralie said, her voice wavering as she started to break down in tears. She turned to face her friend, eyes half visible behind overflowing tears, grieving for what she had lost that night. The sight nearly made Bronte cry with her, but he couldn't. He had to stay strong, comfort her. The rest of the world could not see his tears. The person he had lost that night was dear to him but not to the rest of the world. Not anymore.

That night, had been the night of nightmares, fire ravaging the elven capital of Eternalia, burning down what ended up being half of the glittering city. It was supposed to be a simple matter. Get to Oblivimyre, have Sophie heal fintan, put him back into prison and leave. That was all that was supposed to happen, but of course all the plans had to go toppling down sideways. Fintan, as he had been healed, had burned down oblivimyre, the place he was being temporarily housed in. in the burning panic of all the others in the castle, in a rash decision fueled by self sacrifice and impulse, Kenric, a dear friend and colleague had tackled fintan so that Oralie, Sophie and Fitz could leave without dying first. But he paid for that sacrifice with his life. And so now, Oralie and Bronte were sitting, on a hill not too far from their glittering castles, some of the few parts of the city that hadn't burned down in the fire summoned by fintan. Oralie had now moved closer to Bronte, sobbing into his shoulders as the two colleagues hugged.

Finally, tears had started to fall from Bronte's eyes, but he sat there quietly crying, so that his friend could grieve about the person she had lost that was dearest to her. Kenric, had been a good friend to all of the other councillors, but he and oralie had shared a special connection that everyone could see but no one could do anything about. Bronte would know, he tried but the pair of them were too stubborn to do anything about it by stepping off of the council, both of them thought it would be for the betterment of the rest of the elven world if they ignored their feelings and kept on being true, unselfish leaders. Until it was too late for them to even have a chance at having a life outside of servitude to the council. Oralie pulled away from Bronte's shoulder, eyes red from her still flowing tears of heartbreak. “Are you ok, bronte?” she asked, “do you want to talk about it? I know that, even with his mistakes that fintan was very special to you,” “No, you need time to grieve kenric before you hear my pathetic sob story about the elf that killed our friend.” Bronte stated, already trying to stop the flow of steady tears, making their way down his face, betraying his true emotions. Oralie hugged Bronte even tighter, both of them crying for the people they lost

[callas-pancake-tree]

stellarlune thoughts bc im fucking insane about this book

so much fitz hate ://. someone give him a hug. he deserves it

i want rayni to step on me <3

also four horsegirls my beloved !!

why is stina still a mean high school girl? i thought we were past this. but like,,,the tension between her and sophie omg.,,,

anyway stina rights

keefe. my boy <\3

his ass is NOT doing okay rn

i want him to be happy but like at the same time the angst is so,,, ahfkmgdjlsbsms

not sure how i feel about chapter 42 tbh

like the setting was so pretty and i love how it was described

but you can't convince me that the kiss wasn't written by one of the 12 yr old wattpad girlies. im sorry

also idk if its just me but sokeefe felt kind of rushed?

prentice is real again? tiertice basically canon ?!! FUCK YEAH

vespera got fucking bLOWN UP and gisela's still doing whatever tf she does

mmmm elysian

i love her

idc that she was introduced in the very last page

i need to draw her right now <3

[soulless-angel25]

Whumperless Whump Event: Day 3 Prompt- Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?” @seth-whumps

Fandom: Keeper of the Lost Cities Characters: Fitz Vacker, Biana Vacker Additional Tags: Post- Sophie & Dex's Kidnapping, Fitz Vacker Angst

AO3 Link!

[Whoops, this came out later then planned!]

Fitz only felt a numbness spreading through him when he heard the news. Sophie was... dead? (and Dex, part of his mind added.) But, no- Sophie couldn't be dead.

There was... there was no way she was dead. It just; it didn't make sense. How could she be dead?

He was vaguely aware of his sister beside him, tears racking through her body. Why wasn't he crying? Earlier it had felt as though he would never run out of tears. So where were they now?

Pushing himself up Fit's legs nearly gave out under him. That same numbness in his mind seeming to have spread through his whole body. One leg buckled under his weight as he fell, he could hear Biana startle and move to try and catch him or at least soften his fall.

But more then that he could swear that he heard Sophie's voice in his head. But that wasn't right... she was dead.

[winterfireice]

I'm pretty happy with how this came out hope you enjoy this Sophiana fic with some angst

Tag List: @amandayetagain @the-one-and-only-aroace @synonymroll648 @frizzle-mcshizzle This is me realizing that I know the list is longer but I need to actually write down who to tag

full fic below here

I can’t sleep. It's not uncommon, most of the time half of my night is spent staring at my ceiling or listening to the wind flow through my curtains. Tonight I’m not at home though, Keefe had an idea for a night off at one of his father’s extra houses. Turns out that sleeping in one of your best friend's awful parent's house is not a better place resting place than my comfortable bed in my safe and comforting home. 

Keefe’s idea wasn't the worst he’s ever had and the day was actually pretty fun. Almost the entire group was able to take the day off with minimal arguments from the council and our parents. Dex was even able to find a game of Monopoly with some of his mom’s human stuff that had most of its pieces. It was missing about seven houses but Biana was able to find some jewelry of hers to stand in. My friends also took a lot less time learning the rules of the game than I thought they would need and only Keefe had stolen money from the bank after Fitz was declared our banker.

But after our very long game had finished and we were full of baked goods and elvish drinks almost everyone had fallen asleep in their makeshift beds curled around fluffy pillows and near suffocating because of the absurd amount of blankets. 

The group had decided against splitting up into different rooms and had just created nests on the floor in the living room. 

I am currently trying to figure out how a room can lack so much personality but still be so comfortable. Even after living in the lost cities for multiple years, I am still so surprised and confused by how well-made everything is, the beds feel like a cloud and the food is so flavorful that it made me sick when I first moved here. 

But even with the cloud-like comforters and pillows I still can’t fall asleep. I could blame it on Keefe’s snoring, which he insists he doesn't do, or the tree branch that keeps banging against the side of the house in the wind. But in reality, I knew that I probably was not going to get any sleep. I don’t most nights but after about an hour I usually give up and get up to do either school work or black swan work, sometimes even nobility work if I’m bored enough. 

Tonight though I’m sandwiched between Biana and Dex and know that if I move I will wake them up. Some of my friends may have an easier time falling asleep than me but after all the near-death experiences they have all become pretty light sleepers and I don’t want to mess up any possible sleep schedules they have. 

I'm also not super sure I want to sleep right now because I know that if I do manage to fall asleep my mind is just going to be filled with nightmares. Sometimes I’m able to go the whole night without the dreams but it's rare and never when I’m in a new place or surrounded by half of my loved ones. 

I know that if I fall asleep my mind is just going to be filled with images of my friends dying in different awful ways while I have to stand there watching. I don’t know about most people but that does not sound like a fun way to spend a night to me, especially since I’ve done just that before, both in my dreams and in reality.

While I’m thinking about this I feel one of the blankets slide off me as Biana rolls over to her side. I take this opening to slowly stand up and wander through the darkness in the direction of the kitchen trying to be careful not to knock into anything. I’m almost all the way there without any accidents but I hit into the side of a table and knock off some weird glass bowl. Luckily it doesn't shatter or make too much noise as it falls onto a rug. 

In the kitchen, I realize that I don’t have any plans for what to do here. I could get a snack but when all of us first got here we realized the fridge hadn't been stocked with any food other than an elvish version of protein bars and loose greens. Keefe and Fitz had brought some snacks with them but we either ate them or had eaten so much they made us sick. 

One of the only things on the kitchen table is a bunch of gummies that taste disgusting that Keefe tried (and succeeded) to trick us with. 

“Hey, you ok?” Biana sleepy asks from behind me,

“Oh my go-!” I shriek, “Where did you come from,” 

“Um, the living room. Isn't that where you came from too? I feel the need to repeat my earlier question, are you ok?”

“Yeah, you just scared me. Sorry did I wake you up?” I ask, trying to steady my breathing,

“Kind of but it's ok I’m a pretty light sleeper, plus I’m pretty sure I could hear Keefe snoring even while I was asleep,” She laughs a little while adjusting her pajama shirt so it’s more centered and not falling off her shoulder, which is something I definitely didn't notice and wasn't focusing on in my sleep deprived state. 

“I’ve told him like ten times to go see Elwin about that but he refuses to admit it,” 

“You have got to be kidding me, all it takes is like one elixir every couple of weeks for the problem to go away,” 

“Oh wow, in the hu- forbidden cities there's this machine thing that you wear when you sleep, I don't know too much about how it works but my mom used to have one, back when I lived there,” 

“That sounds terrifying, sometimes I’m surprised by how different the elves and humans treat medical stuff. We have it pretty lucky here that most stuff can be solved with an elixir or lotion,” Biana says the last part while rubbing her arms and I notice a few of her scars peaking through the neckline of her shirt. 

Ever since Vesperna attacked her she has done an amazing job of acting like it doesn't matter or that she’s fine but as someone who also constantly pretends that nothing is wrong I can see the pressure she puts on herself to be okay. 

“Can I ask you a question?” She asks, coming closer and sitting down at the kitchen island in front of me,

“Wasn't that one?” I joke, earning a glare from Biana, “But of course, what do you want to know?” 

“Do you ever miss the forbidden cities? I know that you love it here but does it ever feel weird knowing so much about a world no one else does?” 

“Yeah, I guess. To be honest I try not to think about it that much, if it doesn't have to do with the Neverseen or Amy, it hurts less to try to push it to the back of my mind,” I don’t tell people that usually since it makes me sound awful and makes me feel horrible but something about the only light in the room being from the moon and the only sounds are our voices makes it easier to talk about deeper things.

“Can I ask you one? A question I mean,” I ask after some silence, 

“Always, and by the way I get it, well I don’t because I’m not you but I understand the pushing everything away thing and it makes sense,” Something about tonight is making me notice just how often Biana fiddles with her hands,

“Do you ever wish you never joined the Black Swan?” 

“I have told you almost a thousand times that you are not responsible for my decisions,” she states annoyed,

“I know, that's not what I mean. It’s just that being involved in all of this,” I wave my hands around my body as I say this as if the room is responsible for our trauma, “has hurt us so much.  I know we have been able to help so many people too and I wouldn't change it now but sometimes I think about how our lives would be different if the Black Swan weren't a part of it,” 

“Well for one if the Black Swan wasn't a part of my life I would have never met you,” Biana whispers, “And that would really suck, especially since you probably wouldn't exist,” 

“I guess I don't usually think about it that way, I try to avoid thinking about how I came into existence and what animals were a part of the process,” I laugh while Biana chuckles with her eyes closed. The two of us don’t mention the fact that Mr. Forkle used inspiration from horses to create me.

“Ok, I don’t bring it up a lot because I know it creeps you out that Alicorns were a part of the research that created you but I find it hilarious. Back when I was a really small kid I would go over to the Heks’ place on the weekends and look at all the unicorns with Stina, it was without a doubt my favorite part of the week,” she says as she gets up and checks the fridge for something to eat, “Wow this is disappointing, I expected better snacks in Keefe’s house,” 

“You are not the only one, I was looking for food before you came in here,”

“And you didn't warn me? I feel betrayed Sophie,” she turns away from the fridge and jumps up onto the island so her feet are swinging back and forth, her face is turned to me in deep thought, 

“This seems like the night for a game,” She declares,

“Oh, really? What game?” I ask, jumping up beside her,

“A new one, we take turns asking each other questions, and if we don't answer we have to take a bite of something in this kitchen,” 

“Isn't that just a conversation with an unappetizing meal?” I respond, “What makes it a game?” 

“Uhh, it's almost two a.m.? We’re in the dark? Oo maybe that could be the game’s name? Questions in the Dark,” Biana whispers the last part and brings her hands up to her face, wiggling her fingers as if she is telling a scary campfire story,

“Ok,” I laugh for some strange reason, “I’m in, You should go first I don’t have any good ideas yet?”

“Deal. Why are you awake at two a.m. and don’t tell me you just woke up, I’ve known you for years I know when you aren't sleeping,” She rapidly fires out her words, almost like she is worried I’m about to interrupt her,

“I’m starting to feel like you had a motive when you created this game,” I say after a moment. Any other day I would probably avoid the topic and distract her or lie, pretend that I was simply having a bad night, and move on, but the way she’s looking at me like she just wants to know what’s happening inside of my head at this very moment makes me start talking,

“I can’t sleep when I’m not home, I can hardly sleep when I am in my own bed and I don’t even know if I tried to fall asleep tonight because I know if I do then I’ll just have nightmares the whole night,” the words tumble out of me, “I know we all make jokes about my awful sleep schedule but is it just me? Am I the only one who’s scared to fall asleep? I,” 

Biana pulls her legs up to the table so she can be fully facing me and slides closer to me so that her knees are bumping against one of my legs and she doesn't have to twist her neck to look at me, “I want to have some magic response to fix everything for you but I don’t think those words exist, I can tell you that I haven't had a dream since Vesperna attacked me. At least not one that I can remember, my nightmares always happen while I’m awake,” Biana tells me, her eyes never leaving mine,

I feel tears well up in my eyes and try to look away but I feel her soft hands against my cheek not forcing it to stay in place but an invitation to keep looking at her and her eyes that seem to be searching for an answer to all of our problems.

“I get flashbacks all the time and can hardly look at a mirror without having a panic attack and hearing that awful woman’s voice. When I go to sleep it's the only time my brain is silent,” she adds, the warmth of her hand still lingering against my skin.

I don’t know what is happening at the moment other than her words and her hands, if I try to think about the meaning behind either of them my head starts to swim and this floating feeling turns to sinking. 

“I hate that you have to go through that,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers “It’s not fair you don’t get to be able to be awake without everything wearing down on your shoulders,” 

“It’s not fair you don’t get to sleep,” 

“I guess a lot about our lives isn't fair,” I whisper, 

“You’re definitely right about that,” She responds in the same hushed tone,

“This feels pretty fair though,” I tell her as I bring my arm up to hers, briefly brushing over it,

“Again I agree with you,” Biana says, her eyes lower for a moment before tracking back up my face to my eyes, I feel myself leaning in and Biana’s other hand reaching up to the other side of my face, wrapping around my hair,

“Hmm, why are you guys up?” Keefe groans from the doorway, still wiping the sleep out of his eyes and leaning against the doorframe for support.

In this moment I am both so annoyed that Keefe interrupted whatever was about to happen and so happy that Keefe takes forever to wake up fully. Biana’s hands drop down to her sides as she slides onto the floor,

“We got hungry,” She says in a tone that asks why else we would be in the kitchen,

“Oh, I don't think I put anything in here it’s still all in the living room,” with that Keefe turns back around and goes back into the living room, probably to go continue snoring, “You guys coming?” 

“Yeah we're right behind you,” Biana says, I slip off the island and she takes my hand in hers as we walk back into the living room.

She holds my hand the rest of the night and while I don’t sleep well, I sleep a lot better than I thought I would.

[thekiltongrammarwriter]

The Case of The Heart's Whisper 18+

Pairing: Pippa Fitz Amobi x Fem Reader

Summary: You didn't realize having a relationship with Andie Bell would lead you to become Pippa Fitz Amobi's main resource in Andie Bell's complex life. You also didn't expect to fall for the detective, especially since you're still hanging on the girl who broke your heart.

words:6k

Authors Note: I wrote this piece quite a while ago after reading halfway through the first book, for that matter this story includes many inconsistencies and does not follow booklore in terms of storyline or even timelines. What if reader helps pip with the case and ends up falling in love with Pip? but a bit Andie-coded because I just love her. This was just meant as a fun writer's challenge and is meant to be entertaining. Please also keep in mind this was written before I finished the first book.

Warnings: Past Andie x fem reader, angst, fluff, possessive pip if you squint. Mentions of child abuse, toxic parenting, Andie bell haunting everyone from the grave. Dark pip having the ability to bring me to my knees. This story is not suppose to make sense. That’s about it. Steamy but actual smut is not written. Not proof read. Reader is on her last year in school. Being held back a year for therapy. Cussing.

"What was your relationship with Andie Bell?". You gulped, feeling tears start to brim at just the name. Her name. Images of soft blue eyes and Andie's infamous smirk replayed in your mind like a broken record. Bringing back memories you had flushed away, locked away tight.

Under the watchful glare of Pippa Fitz Amobi, you felt your tongue dry against the roof of your mouth. Her words replaying in your mind, 'what was your relationship with Andie Bell?'

It wasn't that easy. You wish you could have gotten up from your seat in the canteen, where pip laid out her voice recorder, her strong willful blue eyes seeming to crawl over your skin, but not in a predatory manner, you couldn't help but notice the way she was staring at you. It made your stomach flip, your eyes burn, it felt all too familiar, the way her eyes were focused on you. With such intensity.

Just like her.

It had been forever since someone had eyed you like that. Five whole years to be exact.

A deep guttural sound boomed you away from your thoughts and your eyes moved to the boy who sat across from you, Ravi singh. His eyes were on you as well, except you couldn't help but feel like he was judging you. Sitting down with his arms crossed and his dark eyes looking into your soul, how were you suppose to tell him that Andie had been interested in you. That she had personally took you aside after you had stumbled upon Sal and Andie in the canteen, Andie with her usual puppy dog eyes directed at Sal. It had hurt, like a sucker punch to the gut.

All the things Andie had said to you during your studying lesson. It all had been lies. Of course you did nothing, only turned back on your heel, book bag in hand. You heard rushed footsteps next and then Andie was behind you. Her force strong and impatient, "y/n wait!! I didn't mean for you to see that". You had halted, burning red eyes and betrayal filling your veins. You turned on the girl, yanking your hand from under her touch.

"My friends were right about you Andie bell. You're nothing but a cruel mean person who will use anyone for your gain! I should have known the minute you came to talk to me that you had no intention of being my friend! Or whatever the hell you were playing at. Do yourself a favor, get  another French tutor. I'm done."

Cue to the next day, when you were making your usual walk to Kilton grammar l, beanie in hand as the chilly English weather had been harsh at that day, numbing your fingers to the bone. Your father never was one for making sure you were comfortable and safe, his job stopped the day you were born. Despite  your rough upbringing you were usually rather optimistic, everyone always said you were a female version of Sal signh. Not exactly what you wanted to hear, but maybe that was why Andie gravitated torward you. You shook your head, Andie Bell was out of your life. And like life, you watched as a silver SUV parked along side you, Andie bell in the front seat, brows furrowed.

"Get in the car you'll freeze to death" she spoke. You only continued walking, defiant. "I prefer the cold air, it makes my immune system stronger".

You didn't expect Andie to park the car, getting out with a grumble and practically tackling you. If you closed your eyes just enough you could still feel Andie's soft fingers ghosting over your cheeks bones, hot breathe against your ear. "I apologize for what I did. It's just...Sal is my best friend. And perhaps I should have broke it off with him, but it's hard. And then you came into the canteen and I panicked, I'm not use to panicking. I-" Andie's blue eyes had remained still, blush on her cheeks. "I like you y/n. Like a lot. It wasn't suppose to happen at first I really did need help with my French, but then I started noticing things about you. Like how you're always so sweet to others, how you mumble when you're nervous. Or how no matter how much your dad makes you unhappy, you always seem to be shining. Why is that? Is there some sort of secret?".

You remember feeling like you were in the twilight zone. Andie bell was a popular girl, a popular girl with a cruel heart, one who enjoyed hurting others. And yet here she was, helping you up and dusting your trousers. Her eyes warm and soft. Why she liked you, you didn't know. But you wanted to know why.

Needless to say how were you suppose to sit and say that Andie bell had liked you, not to Ravi Singh , that would just make him hate you more. And perhaps you felt guilty. Because his brother had died for Andie bell. And she had been playing games with you.

A soft brush of fingers against your hand made you turn back to the girl, in an act of utter coincidence or an act of kindness, you weren't sure which she spoke, this time to Ravi.

"Ravi would you mind leaving us two girls together? I believe y/n would feel more comfortable giving me her account without others listening in".

At this you watched as Ravi immediately stood up, eying you with strange eyes, before walking out of the canteen, the door's hinges making an utter awful squeaking noise that reminded you of the deer your father use to shoot.

"Andie wasn't like the others".  You didn't recognize your voice as you spoke. It was brittle, far away sounding, pain infused. You watched as Pippa remained speechless, eying you with her soft grey eyes.

"The others?" Her brows furrowed, "other students you mean?".

You nodded, a tear flying past your cheeks and onto your bottom lip, tasting the familiar salt on your tongue. You watched as pip followed the motion, eyes drifting down your lips.

"At first when she came round to me, I thought it was some cruel joke she was trying to play. I had heard about what she'd done to Nat De Silva. People talked. But....when she came round to my desk after French class and asked if I could tutor her I was lost for words". Pippa watched as a smirk filled your lips. 

"Andie bell was kind to me. I don't know why....perhaps she saw something in me others didn't bother to see. And-and perhaps if we had gotten to be around each other more we could have been something. But she's gone now. And no one can bring her back".

"I will"

The words made your eyes find pip's. And you watched as the girl without thought reached over the table, taking your trembling fingers into her own, holding them against her own flushed fingers. Almost like she knew.

"I can't promise you Andie....I cannot simply wave my fingers and make her appear. Although I wish I could....but I can offer you peace. Justice. I can offer you a finalized solid answer to what truly happened to her. I've heard what others said about you and her. You were special to her too y/n".

At that all composure left you. Your body began to tremble and you let the soft sobs rock your body, the all to consuming feeling of grief taking over.

In an instance pip was beside you, bringing you to her chest and holding tightly. So tight you could feel the girls heartbeat, which was rapid and going a mile a minute. Battering against her rib cage.

You clung to her, after all these fives years you had wanted someone to hold you like this, to brush the tears away and say that it gets better. That time can heal wounds, but of course stuck with your father who had no notion of feelings or emotions that was not what you had learned to expect. Instead you tucked it away.

But pippa was kind. She had a sense of ease that seemed to calm your racing heart. And lull you into a sense of comfort. And perhaps, if you were being honest, she had that same energy to her. It was like having a piece of Andie with you, however small it was. Because as much as Pippa reminded you of Andie, she was almost completely 100% different. Where Andie was rough around the edges, pipa was solid, keen on the way she thought, logical. Where Andie was sporadic and lacking sympathy, pip made up for it with her soft eyes and just heart.

In the weeks that followed you found your eyes finding Pip's when you would greet her in the hall of Kilton grammar, her eyes seeming to find yours in a crowd. She was always the first to greet you, smile that pipa smile. What you were not aware of was the fact that pip had been ogling you during lunch apparently.

"What's up with Pippa Fitz Amobi always staring at you?" You blanched. Eyes wide as you eyed your best friend Seth from across the lunch table, your fresh salad you had nicked from the canteen bar forgotten.

"What do you mean? I helped her out with her end of term project a few weeks ago. She's probably just grateful or something. Not many people gave her grace over the topic" you growled out.

Seth, who was not very bright in social cues only began talking yet again. "No I mean, she's always staring at you now. She was in geography and just now when you sat down. I think she fancies you".

You had to chuckle at that, your laughter filling the lunchroom, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide, you immediately shoved Seth, "that is the most stupid comment I have ever heard!! Pippa fitz Amobi having a crush on me! Me Seth! I'm nobody. Seriously what a notion. She's probably got a few more questions to ask me."

"Well I better prepare because she's coming this way".

Your smile vanished, your eyes wide. "What!"

And like clockwork pipa was in front of your table, blue eyes scanning you. "Sorry to interrupt your lunch hour y/n, but would you mind if I asked you to have dinner with my family and I after school? I know it's sudden. I was going to ask Ravi, but I figured I hadn't properly thanked you for answering my questions"

Seth smiled from the brim of his thermos, making your nerves ramp up even more, but you stayed calm, moving your eyes to Pippa's. A small smile formed on your lips as you took in her face, all furrowed lines and nervous fingers behind her back. You half expected her to serenade you with random facts, a sign she was nervous.

"I really would love to pipa" you began, and you watched as Pippa's smile began to grow, her blue eyes alight with something you couldn't understand yet.

"That's wonderful!! My mum is making shepards pie, are you alright with that? I wouldn't want to make something that doesn't sit well with your stomach". Pippa’s nervous rambling was cute to an extent, and you only chuckled.

"I haven't had a decent shepards pie in quite  while, my father isn't a real good cook." You explained, and pipa nodded, before reaching out and taking your hand in hers, your reflex was to pull your hand away, but Pippa's touch was firm, almost gentle as she softly moved your sweater from your Palms, "it's alright, I'll be gentle, no need for a scare" she spoke, directly to you, blue eyes soft as she produced a pen from her Kilton uniform, writing her home address on the back of your palm, the nib of the pen feeling cold against your warm skin.

Seth only remained the smiling idiot he was, wagging his furrowed brows as if to say, 'is that evidence enough?' You only sent him daggers.

Turning back to pip who was on the last letter of her street name, you eyed the canteen, finding little to no teens were sat paid attention to you two. You made a small noise with your throat, watching as pip's eyes flew to yours, a sea of light blue, whispering softly you spoke.

"How's your EPQ going? Have you made any progress? About Andie?" Maybe it was the way her name fell of your lips, or how desperate for answers you were. Pippa's eyes widened, and she spoke fast, "I can't speak of it here. That's partly why I invited you round to my house. I have some more questions. But these need to be answered privately."

Privately?

Pippa must have sensed your apprehension, because she was soon smiling, "nothing to be scared about y/n. If anything your answers have changed my mind about Andie. To an extent. And it will just be us tonight, Ravi is working. I noticed how you clammed up with him last time".

"I didn't clam up, it's just odd having Sal singh's brother eying me like I have some secret I'm hiding from him." You shot back, your confidence seeming to find its way out. You couldn't help but feel that raw feeling weld up in your chest, your teeth gritted out. You felt a flush take over your face as you apologized, your words escaping you. Gosh, here pip was going out of her way to invite you to a dinner, a family dinner that is, where you were probably intruding on, and you had snapped at her.

Pippa only eyed you, eyes flashing over your flared nostrils and wide set eyes,you watched as her eyes remained transfixed to your features, her blue grey eyes darkening just enough as she eyed your flushed cheeks. You would have found that odd, if it were not for your rambling, rapid apologies falling of your lips.  Pip only halted your words, leaning in so close you could smell her perfume, strawberry and raspberry. Your heart raced out of its chest at the way Pip moved to lean over you, her eyes taking in your eyes and your flushed racing chest, the smile that reached her lips was so saccharine that it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Pip spoke softly against your ear, like it was some sort of secret to be hid from others.  Her words were soft, velvety against her tongue, "I like when you use your voice" she spoke, "it's cute. You look almost like a little puppy, puffing out its chest and barring its teeth. Such a sweet little creature"

From the way Pip smiled victoriously over the way your eyes followed her, almost trance like, you could practically feel Seth's eyes burning holes into you, probably resisting the urge to yell "she's obviously flirting with you!".  Once your brain was cognizant enough to realize that pip had said you reminded her of a dog, a puppy at that. A puppy, the lowest of the forms of dogs. Why didn't she just say you were akin to a baby playing in the sand box? It would have irked you, if we're not for the way that pip stayed eyeing you, a shine in her grey eyes, almost like she was getting some sort of high from teasing you. It made your cheeks flush and your eyes move down to her lips, which were plastered in that smile, the one that twisted your insides in the best way.

You felt your confidence come back to you in tiny spurts, your eyebrows raising, tongue coming to peek out over eager lips, "Who knows Amobi?" You spoke, twisting your lips into a even sweeter smile, your voice taking on a different tone, "I may be a wolf in sheep's clothing, easy on the eyes, soft, sweet, so sweet that you would be blinded by what I could do".

At that you watched as pip's eyes glazed over, her usual pale complexion pink in color. "Is that so?" She began.  "Well I'll just have to see about that. Half past six tonight, don't be late" she spoke, winking at you and walking off. As she walked off, You felt a sudden pang in your chest at your realization. You liked Pippa Fitz Amobi. You had ever since she had held you that day a few weeks ago.  But you never acknowledged it, it felt to odd. Too shameful.  You hadn't had a crush on anyone since Andie, you had stuck to your small group of friends and avoided going out, mostly you stayed in your room, far away from prying eyes and your father, who was too into himself to notice your tear stained cheeks on days you would allow your mind to drift back to Andie.

It almost felt like you betraying her, being here flirting with pip, almost like you had forgotten her for a split moment. Like your pain and anguish had been wiped clean and put back together by the girl in front of you.

Pippa watched you as she sat back with Cara, the way your eyes were downcast, and she felt a pang in her heart, you were still grieving, that part was evident. But if she could just get to know you, the real you she was sure she would be able to help ease the burden. After all Andie and you had been close, close enough that even witnesses and Andie's own friends had stated that Andie had been drawn to you. Like a moth to a flame.

At first pip had found that odd, a girl of Andie's caliber being drawn to you, but as she observed you throughout the weeks she found out two things. first, you we're different than all the other students that roamed these halls of Kilton grammar. You were kind to a fault, the sort of kind that made people smile, and their days brighter. You were a ray of sunshine on a cold dreary day. No wonder Andie had been drawn to you, after all she had been through with her dad, her family life, you had been a breathe of fresh air. A oasis away from the troubles of life. But you were also a mystery, one she couldn't wait to sink her teeth into, to know every little secret you ever had.

"Shall I send off the wedding invitations?" Cara spoke, making pip roll her eyes but steal some of the girls custard, which remained untouched on the girls plate.

"It seems Pip's EPQ is not the only thing she wants to study" seth spoke, and you only rubbed your cheeks in your hands, "oh god! She probably thinks I'm a nutter Seth” you gritted out.

Seth laughed, "after that performance?? Are you kidding me!! If I was a girl I would have fallen for you! I mean, you basically challenged her back. Pip seems like she needs that."

**********

Kilton weather was often dreary, which was why you were partly glad that you had managed to bring your jumper, the air was cold and seemed to nip at your bones. You had snuck away while your father had gone down for bed, his tell tale signs of liquor cans littering the floor and the loud snores indicating he was out for the night.

Not that he minded if you went out, he usually didn't have any notions of where you were, it was a miracle you weren't one of those teenagers who abused that power. You knew many teens who would go wild with the freedom your father gave you. But with freedom came many things, the mood swings, the often vile words that would fall of your fathers lips when he drank too much. You knew he loved you, it was apparent he did, but he never had the courage to say it, never once. You chalked it up the fact that he had never had that himself, your grandparents were the typical Victorian English parents, their idea of affection was a Pat on the back and a job well done.

Drastically different than your mother. Even after years of her being gone you still felt the ache that her face brought. Etched into your memory like a painting that would never waver. Or fade. You hoped. Your mother had been your world, she had been there to pick you up and dust you of, but like everything in life she had withered and vanished. It was a car accident that took her. The icy roads of Kilton still haunted you. So you were on your own. Till Andie of course. Then you felt less alone, less inclined to be alone. Andie wasn't all smiles, she was a girl trapped in a toxic house, where her father would eye her looks, make her feel little than she was. You had understood that to a sense, and would sit and listen as she would talk endlessly about her father.

The Amobi's household was quiet, the house sitting on the edge of town, with a quiet garden in the front that you knew Pippa’s mother had loved to garden in. It didn't surprise you that right as you made it to the door, it opened. Pippa standing in the threshold, a dinner dress on and hair pinned slightly to the side, enough that you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked. 

Vastly different from her regular Kilton uniform,  although the high knee socks did wonders for her appearance.

You couldn't help but notice how formal she looked, meanwhile you were less than formal.

A blush overcame your features, eying your now less than formal dinner attire. "I didn't realize it was fancy dress" you stated, "that dress looks beautiful on you pip. Even I couldn't make it as radiant as you".

Pippa had smiled, her cheeks crimson. "Oh this? I figured you would like to see me in something more than my Kilton uniform. Please, come in. You'll catch your death out here.".

Immediately you were bombared with checkered paws and a snout that began to lick at your face, all rough tongue and eager sniffs. you giggled, moving to draw your hand through the dogs soft fur. "This must be Barney. I've been told we share a couple attributes" you laughed, and the dog only began to bark at you playfully. The moment was ruined quick enough when pip gently moved Barney, "she's not here to see you Barney".

Pip's mother, Mrs Amobi had been almost overjoyed to see you. She had reached out and had hugged you so hard your bones had nearly popped off. She had knew your mother for years and had even stated you looked just like her. It was a comfort to know.

Mr Amobi had been just as nice, smiling and telling you how lovely you looked, you were thankful that a father had noticed. Josh was next, he had quickly said hello to you and asked if you were Pippa's new friend, to which you had eyed pipa and playfully remarked that was up to her. 

Dinner was pleasant. You couldn't remember sitting down to a dinner like this, where the food was made with love and care, where jokes were passed around and by the end you were filled with laughter and a full stomach. You tried not to notice pippa's eyes which were on you for almost half the dinner. It would have seem of putting to anyone else, but you noticed the way Pip's eyes would watch you as your brought trifle to your mouth, grey eyes zeroed in on the ice cream that stuck to your lips. Or the way she would make a joke, eyes seeming to smile wide when you would laugh just a little harder.  While you had gotten up to help Mrs Amobi with the dishes, feeling like a horrid house guest when she had just smiled and told you to sit your pretty self down. You had been hesitant to, but it was only then that pip crossed the room, moving to whisper something in your ear. Goosebumps arose on your forearms and you only watched as she took your hand in her own, fingers slotting against your own.

"Before you leave I was wondering if you wanted to take a look at my EPQ? It's just- I found some things you might be interested in".

You had agreed, feeling your stomach coil pleasanty as pip's fingers wrapped around your own, her grip soft yet firm, fingers caressing your skin. It made your head dizzy with want, the type that would fill your head and cause you to do stupid, stupid things. Luckily as soon as you passed into the threshold of Pips door your eyes caught sight of the board adorning the girls room. And as quickly as the soft syrupy feeling in your stomach had come it was gone. Vanished just of the sight of the crime board,

you were met with the board, Pippa's writing strewn about and evidence upon evidence filling the space. It shouldn't have made you so emotional, but you couldn't help but bring your hands to your lips. After five years pipa had managed to collect more than enough evidence, something the Kilton police hadn't the courage to do.

"You-you did all this?" You spoke, eyes turning to pipa in amazement.

She humbly nodded, "well Ravi helped me. But I did most of the work. I just felt as if I should show you" pip spoke, moving closer to you, enough that her pinky bumped over yours, the soft feeling of skin against your own making your cheeks flushed.

You eyed the board, taking in the utter dedication that had gone into it, but it was what was written on the board that made your heart stop. Not from surprise, or even grief. But anger. Anger that had grown in your chest for years now.

'Andie's secret older guy?' Written in Pipa's messy yet beautiful handwriting stared back at you. You could feel the way your heart had stilled, the world was quiet. Nothing but the board and pipa by your side.

You knew Andie well enough to know that you were just a pawn in her game. Even if she had told you she was fond of you, made you feel special, made you feel like you were important, said she saw you differently than others, she still had used you.  You were never as important as she said you were. Because it was evident from the board that she hadn't been as enthralled with you as it seemed. She had been secretly out with some older man.

You chucked sardonically, eyes moving to pip's ceiling. "Andie always did love her secrets didn't she?" You whispered.  "I know it's silly, but Andie was all I had left after my mum died. She made me feel like I was the most important girl, she would coo at me and tell me that she thought I was beautiful. And then she'd tell me to tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. And I would, without hesitation. But now I'm seeing parts of her I didn't recognize, or perhaps pieces that were always there but thanks to my naivety I just brushed off. I'm- I'm angry. Obviously, that she lied to me, it hurts. The type of hurt that makes your eyes burn and your body numb. But I also know that she's still out there, and even if she hurt me I'm not giving up". The conviction   in your voice was enough to cause pip's heart to stop, hoping that someday you'd talk about her like that. With stars in your eyes.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. Because I know this is awfully sudden, but- would you like to be my partner on this case?" Pip spoke, tilting her head and eying you with such soft eyes.

It was different from the flirty Pip from the canteen. Here was just pip, with her soft kind eyes, peering at you with-understanding.

" isn't Ravi your partner? I would hate to intrude-"

"I want you with me" pip has stuttered, eyes wide when she had spoken, but then her eyes calmed and she spoke again, "I want you to help me with this case. You knew Andie better than anyone. And you could be important. Theirs no reason why this case can’t have three investigators”.

You let your eyes fall down to pip's wooden floor. For five years you've wanted the chance to find out what happened to Andie, not just for yourself but her parents, and Becca. The whole Bell family, because even if they had hurt Andie, she had also hurt them in turn. When you meant family, you had no notion of adding Jason bell to the mix.

"Alright" you spoke, lips upturning into a smile.

"I'll help you".  The smile on Pip's lips was reward enough.

******

The first thing you learned about Pip was that she was different from the other girls you'd met. And you had met many, being a tutor at Kilton grammar many had come to you. And they were all the same. The same way of speaking, even the same monotone spirit in their eyes.

But Pip was different. She was clever, well educated. Her brain worked faster than others. Perhaps a touch obsessive, but you would admit that you were also on the edge between obsessive.

"Andie had a burner phone" you spoke, watching as Pip's eyes burned with excitement, Ravi sitting on her chair in her room. It had been a particularly hard day, one that lead with no leads. Till you had spoken, hoping this fact would help. You had remembered seeing Andie silence the phone when you had been studying together, saying something about a Howie Bowers.

Pip's smile was wide and she immediately rushed to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, "y/n you clever thing! We need to find that burner phone. Where could it be?" She thought, back to her usual pacing the floor.

Ravi remained standing a few feet from you, eyes refusing to meet your eyes. Ever since pip had introduced you to the team, Ravi had been distant. You knew he liked pip. Could see it in his dark brooding eyes. To him she must have been a goddess, a girl who thought his brother wasn't guilty, who was going to prove it. Might as well propose.

But lately you had seen their dynamic change. Instead of pip always looking to Ravi, her eyes were on you. You were the one she went to, when her dog had disappeared, when she had cried and cried enough tears you had been the one to wipe them away, to calm her down.

And Ravi knew that. And he hated you for it. And you couldn't help but feel like you didn't quite belong.

You brought that up to Pip during one of your sleepovers, the ones that had become usual now. Usual enough that pip even had designated a drawer that belonged to you. Ravi would complain that it wasn't fair that you got to spend the night, but pip would just smile that smile and say something to make him smile. It usually left you with a bad taste in your mouth.

"Ravi isn't fond of me is he?" You had stated. Pip had looked up from her log entries, halting the recorder that was spewing out a very angry Nat De Silva interview.

Pip's eyes had widened, her lips upturned into a questionable smile. Brows filled with concern more like.

"Where on earth did that come from?".

You had rolled your eyes, moving to lay dramatically on her bed, "you act as if you don't see the way he looks at me. Don't get me wrong he's always been cordial. But-I've seen the way he looks at me. Like he hates me. And everything always had to be a competition for him. Like let's see who can win pip first."

At that Pip's smile was evident as she watched you ramble. Taking in your pink lips, your pale complexion, the way your sleep shirt was riding up enough to reveal your braw straps. Something akin to hunger laid in her eyes.

"And I'm not that type of person" you began, rubbing your tired cheeks, eyes taking in the ceiling.

"I don't like when people have to choose sides. Ravi's making this into some stupid competition, like if your friends with me then you can't be friends with him. and that is not who I am! It's stupid and childish! and honestly I am beginning to think I should drop out, let Ravi and you finish the case. Because I am not-"

"I choose you".

The words had halted on your tongue. Lips dry, you immediately sat up, hair a mess of curls and you eyed Pip, who sat up next to you, laptop long forgotten as she eyed you.

Waiting for your response. Her grey eyes holding so much apprehension in them.

You only eyed her with confused eyes, "I don't want you to have to choose-"

"I don't care. I still choose you over him."

Pip was close now, her form leaning over yours, enough that your heart had begun to race. "I can't help it" pip began, her face now so close to your neck, pip smiled when she caught sight of the way your cheeks flushed.

And without even a warning pip was closing the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss. You only allowed your eyes to close, enjoying the way pip was laid on top of you, the weight of her body making you warm and fuzzy.

Pip kissed like her life depended on it, every brush of her lips was deliberate, very stroke of her finger against your cheeks was soft. It left your head spinning and your lips chapped.

"You taste so good" she spoke, in between kisses, her breathe ragged and eyes wild.

Her hands laid possessively over your waist, fingers gripping your skin softly yet firmly. You don't think you've ever been this turned on before, save for your few moments with Andie.

But pip, with her lips that were unforgiving and her hands that were ticking your sides. You had never thought pip Amobi, the girl who use to ask for extra homework would be this experienced.

Pip's lips moved to your chin, your jaw, your neck. And all you could do was whine in protest.

Again you couldn't help but compare Pipa to Andie, no matter how much you tried not no, to convince yourself that they were different people, you couldn't help it. When Andie had been with you, and she had that look in her eye, that familiar glean, the way her fingers would caress your hands, then up your arm. Andie had always been a hurry. She would pull you against her in the girls toilet, shushing you and then kissing you senseless, to her it was some stupid power move. She would have you say how much you were obsessed with her, and then she would leave you even more turned on, moving to wipe lipstick of her lips in the schools dodgy mirror. She never went far enough with you, and you always wondered why.

She had always been eager, that was fact, but she had never done what pip was doing. Eying you with dark blue eyes, Mapping out every detail of your features, "it's not fair for you to look so utterly ravishing" she had uttered, looking somewhat conflicted as she eyed your lips.

Her delicate fingers moved to hover over your face, swiping delicately a piece of hair that had gotten in the way. The way pip had done it, so softly, had made your arousal burn even more.

Pip sighed, fingers moving to dip bellow your chin, gripping softly, yet enough that your breathe hitched as she lazily caressed the skin bellow your chin.

"What am I going to do with you sweet girl?" she purred, eyes dark. "I could take you here right now on my bed like I've imagined so many times, or I could take you on the floor, though I doubt it would be sanitary. Though I would fancy fucking you on my door. You'd look so cute trying to stay quiet" she drawled out, laughing when your cheeks reddened, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, feigning thinking.

Her smile had been confirmation enough that she had come to a conclusion. Her smile somehow looking like a toss between Pervy and downright Sinful.

"How about we start by removing this lovely top? Hmm?" She cooed, lips leaning in to kiss your lips firmly, leaving you breathless and your brain foggy. You only nodded into the kiss, and Pip very cleverly dodged your lips, wiping away the tiny bit of salvia that followed.

It shouldn't have been hot, you knew that. You knew if you were not being controlled by your horny mind you would have been sick, but from the way Pip had begun unbuttoning your night shirt, each button coming undone sending shivers through you. pip remained stoic, but you could see the control in her eyes shifting as the last button was taken of.

"I trust you pip...you can take it off" you whispered, your voice quiet and calm, yet you felt your body buzzing with anticipation.

It was then that your eyes opened, taking in the dark room, chest heaving as you eyes the girl next to you, watching as her chest rose and fell beside you sound asleep. Had all of that been a dream? Your cheeks flushed, the pit in her stomach opening up as you realized.

You were in love with Pippa fitz Amobi, and you couldn’t deny it any longer. You had to confess, for your sanity.

[kale-of-the-forbidden-cities]

the idea that fitz is slowly being killed by the remains of the echoes in his heart (a fanfic this time)

yayyy death and angst :D

I'm not sure what else to say other than, i didn't mean for it to go this dark

that being said, TW for death, blood, a lil bit of gore, implications of s/h, suicide thoughts, etc. read at your own risk :)

friend @fitz-avery-vacker (tagging you ooc lol)

It didn't make sense. 

Fitz had thought he was safe from the shadows buried in his chest. They were supposed to be long gone. 

But Flori had never said that her songs would make the echoes go away. She had said it would just quiet them. 

So maybe it did make sense that Fitz was curled up on the floor of his room, barely able to move, let alone breathe, because of the painful pressure pulsing in his chest. 

Breathe, he told himself. In, out. In, out. You can't let anyone see you like this. 

Once it had passed, and he could breathe again, Fitz stood up, using his desk chair for support. Something in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he whirled around to see…

Nothing. There was nothing there. 

Hesitantly, Fitz sat down, picked up his pen, and forced himself to relax. 

It was probably nothing. 

-x-

About a week later, Fitz had forgotten about the entire thing. It was in the evening, and he was doing his usual weapon-sharpening for Grizel. His mind was elsewhere, and he wasn't really paying attention to—

"OW!" 

He muttered a few words his parents would not be proud of as he quickly fumbled to grab a clean cloth to put pressure on the stinging cut on his palm. "Idiot," he mumbled to himself. "Fucking idiot." 

He examined the wound. It wasn't too deep, so hopefully it wouldn't scar. Fitz wrapped the cloth around his hand and went to the bathroom to get a bandage. He was no physician, but he wasn't going to hail one for such a small, embarrassing mishap. 

Fitz washed his hands and bandaged the cut. It was then that he noticed the stain on the cloth. Red from the blood, but also, oddly, a few splotches of black. 

Was that normal? 

What did that mean? 

"Everything okay?" Biana asked, appearing in the doorway. 

Fitz quickly folded the cloth. "Yeah, I just… I cut myself while sharpening a throwing star." He held up his bandaged hand. 

"Oh. Shit." 

"It's not too bad, Bi," he assured her. 

"Then why do you look so scared?" 

"Scared?" he repeated. He was a little bit scared, but he didn't think it'd be showing. "I'm not really scared. Maybe I'm just tired." He added a laugh to convince her. And it seemed to do the trick. 

"Go to bed early, then," she told him. "Night!" She walked away, flickering as she did. 

-x- 

So maybe something was wrong. 

Fitz could maybe admit that to himself. Maybe. Possibly. Perhaps. 

Because the world was very dim. Like there was a shadow cast over it. His echo had affected him twice in the past week— both while he was alone— and now he stared at himself in the mirror, but it wasn't himself. 

He had to be dreaming. 

Those cobalt blue eyes did not belong to him. 

Alvar's face was hollow and haunted, but it was there. And when Fitz turned his head, so did Alvar. When he stumbled back in disbelief, his brother did the same. 

He hadn't realized how similar they looked. It chilled him to the bone. 

Fitz slid to the ground and pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream. He couldn't see the mirror anymore. He had to get out of this nightmare. The echoes were pressing on his pounding heart— harder than ever. He dug his fingernails into his arms, telling himself to wake up. 

Wake up. 

Wake

Up. 

And he did. 

The world turned bright again, and there he was, on the bathroom floor, breathing heavily. 

"Fitz, hurry up! You're gonna make us late!" 

He scrambled to his feet and looked in the mirror. 

The eyes that met his were his own. 

He pressed a hand to his chest. 

What the hell just happened? 

It. It didn't matter. He was going to be late. 

He quickly combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and hurried with Biana to the Leapmaster. 

Today was another day of pretending. 

-x- 

Throughout the day, Fitz kept double-checking his reflection to make sure it was still normal. There were dark bags under his eyes that he hadn't noticed before. Which was weird, since he'd actually been taking sedatives to sleep these days. He didn't tell anyone, though, so they wouldn't worry. He just snuck them into his room from the bathroom. To keep away the nightmares. 

"Earth to Fitzy. Fitzroy. Fitz Vackerrrrr—"

Fitz's head snapped up. "What?" 

Keefe poked him. "You feel weird." 

Something about Keefe's touch set Fitz on edge. "No I don't," he snapped, a little too loudly. The study hall mentor shushed them. 

"I'm the empath here," Keefe reminded him in a whisper. 

"Well, maybe you're wrong." 

"Jeez, why so moody?" Keefe poked him again. 

Fitz shrugged him away and ignored him. 

He had no idea why he was so angry at Keefe. He was being concerned as a good friend should be. 

But Fitz's heart was beating so loud in his ears, he didn't hear what Keefe said next. He tried to focus on writing, but his handwriting came out shaky and not at all neat.

Maybe he wasn't okay. 

-x- 

Fitz kept seeing things. Not as terrifying as the first time he saw Alvar in the mirror, but he did keep seeing shadows and shapes of people who weren't really there. 

He couldn't concentrate on reading, either. Every time he had to read more than a few paragraphs, shadows dimmed his vision and made the words look splotchy. It was seriously frustrating. 

It was getting to the point where he'd considered telling Elwin or somebody about it, but there was always a voice that told him he shouldn't. It told him that admitting that he was struggling would make him weak and pathetic.

The voice told him he deserved all of this. 

He deserved this pain. 

And so he did all he could to deal with it. He did his best to act normal, even when everything around him turned dark and shadows poured out of every space. 

Fitz was fairly certain his physical appearance was changing as well. His eyes looked darker and strangely empty, and he noticed his pupils were all dilated. 

He also looked skinny, but maybe that was because he was losing his appetite. The very thought of eating made him want to throw up. His family didn't seem to notice him skipping meals. They must just assume he was eating later. Or maybe they didn't care. Maybe they wanted him dead. 

His heart hurt. His lungs hurt. The veins in his hands looked dark as well, as if the shadows were in his blood.

Fitz was starting to find it hard to breathe, even when resting. Sitting up in bed sent him into a violent coughing fit. He covered his mouth with his hand, praying nobody could hear. 

If they found out, he was selfish. 

He couldn't tell anyone. 

He looked at his hand once he'd stopped coughing. It was stained with splotches of black. 

Fitz quickly washed his hands so nobody would know. 

-x-

Fitz had run out of sedatives, and every night the shadows closed in closer and closer, swallowing him whole until there was nothing but darkness that was blacker than black.

The nightmares that always followed had him bolting upright in a cold sweat after only an hour, and the rest of the night was spent in fearful wake. 

The voices. 

They wouldn't stop. 

Those twisted, evil, voices. They told Fitz to do horrible things. 

Hurt people. Kill people. 

Hurt himself. 

He was so scared. 

He was so tired of this. 

He wanted to stab the wretched echo out of his chest. 

He didn't care if he died. 

He couldn't do this anymore. 

-x-

Fitz was fairly certain it was a sunny day when the echo consumed him. It was hard to tell. 

He dragged himself out of bed, shaking, stumbling. 

He rolled up his sleeves and ran his hands down the dark black lines on his arms. 

Normal cuts would be red and bloody at first, then scab over, then heal. 

These never healed. 

Fitz changed into his uniform and tried to walk normally down the hall into the bathroom. The voices wouldn't quiet. He caught a glimpse of Biana talking to Della down the stairs, and he wanted to strangle them. 

These horrible, horrible thoughts. 

He was a horrible, horrible person for thinking them. 

Fitz closed himself in the bathroom and prepared to face his reflection again. It had been getting worse and worse. 

He felt so sick. 

He clapped a hand over his mouth, suddenly feeling the urge to vomit. He rushed over to the sink and spat out all sorts of horrible blackness and blood. Every second he thought it was over, and more came out, like he was coughing up his organs. 

It hurt so much. 

He wanted to die. 

Fitz glanced up at the mirror, breathing heavily. The liquid blackness stained his mouth and his hands and the sink. 

How was he supposed to hide this? 

Fitz did his best to scrub it off of his skin and wash it down the drain. He couldn't tell how well he'd done. His vision was too dark. Fitz brushed his teeth to get the sickening metallic taste out of his mouth. It didn't work. The aftertaste still lingered. He felt so nauseous. 

He couldn't take deep breaths. He could barely breathe.  But Alden didn't notice as he rushed off to a meeting. And Biana didn't notice Fitz losing a bit of himself every time they leaped. And his so-called friends didn't notice either. 

He must be overreacting. 

When lunchtime came, Fitz didn't bother getting in line and instead went to sit down at the table he always sat at. The table where he could pretend to be focusing on a book while everyone else talked around him. 

But Fitz was shaking so much. 

And he just. Collapsed. 

The cafeteria dimmed and the voices dulled as a rushing sound filled his ears and darkness took over. 

He vaguely registered that he was coughing, coughing up darkness and blood. 

The sound was overwhelming. The voices told him he was dying. 

And the pain. 

The pain was unbearable. 

A sharp, stabbing pain that bloomed in Fitz's chest and synched with his heartbeat. It spread around his torso, squeezed everything out of his stomach, made his hands stop working and his head spin. 

The last thing he remembered was darkness. 

And voices. 

You brought this on yourself, Fitz. 

-x- 

But that wasn't where it ended. 

There were other voices. Coming from outside of his own head. 

"What happened?!" 

"He just collapsed, and started coughing—" 

"Someone get Tam!" 

And in the back of all of this, a constant screaming. The echoes had heard this scream before, when they'd first left their mark. It was a scream of death. Fitz felt a similar sound escape his throat. He was lying down now. Somewhere comfortable. 

He wanted to escape this pain and leave the shadows behind forever. 

Fitz couldn't place the moment everything disappeared. It was a slow and painful end. There was no way to move. No way to run, no way out. 

His senses faded slowly away. The last thing he heard was the sound of someone sobbing beside him. 

And the scream of death faded away. 

[3dnygma]

If doors could scream (Welcome Home one-shot)

POV: you are a sentient house

Characters: Wally Darling & Home, Robert Dorelaine, no romantic/sexual relationship

Teen & Up Audiences, Angst, Existential Horror (more tags on AO3)

Words: 949

AO3 Link

If doors could scream, you think to yourself, then these creatures would never have a restfull night.

But your doors can't scream - they can only creek. So you creek and you snarl and let your windows fly open on a stormy night. Anything to at the very least inconvenience the parasite nesting within your organs that he calls "furniture".

Once, you tried breaking one of your own windows to see what would happen if his skin was cut open with your glass shards.

In the end, it wasn't worth having the postman over the following day, poking around your frames for hours in order to fix them and sewing the monster's wound shut, which had some fiber sticking out of it with no blood in sight.

And of course, there was the pain. You didn't know that breaking glass would feel as if breaking a human bone. A stabbing sensation, reinforced whenever even the slightest breeze would soar through your exposed frames. That's what breaking a human boned used to feel like, right? You remember once breaking a leg when you were younger, although you don't quite remember how. Back then, you were still going by Ronald Dorelaine.

But him? He didn't at all seem affected by the wound you had given him. Because, supposedly, life would have been somewhat fair if you had managed to cause him a fraction of the pain that he has been caused you over the years.

You think about that night - and all your other desperate attempts to garner some sort of revenge. And while you are lost in your thoughts, he opens his mouth.

"Good night, Home. Sleep well."

There it is. That voice you practiced for days while staring in the mirror and hoping that the movement of your puppet's mouth would match your words perfectly. You had modelled the voice after your uncle Fitz and yourself, two tender creatives. It was monotone, yet light, with a dreamy nature. Back then, you had no idea how horrifying it could sound.

You take it in, sliding the sofa back and forth around your livingroom, accompanied by some creaking of your eastern walls. In this complex language you've aquired over the years, that means: You imbecile.You know I don't sleep. When have you ever witnessed me sleeping?

He chuckles. "I had a wonderful day, thanks for asking! Barnaby and I went to Howdy's store. Howdy was missing some crabs...I don't know why Howdy has crabs, but he does. Anyway, Barnaby and I looked for them aaaall around Home. It was really fun! Howdy was really happy ... when we got them back. Then, he gave us hotdogs! They were really good."

I don't care, you utter through a creeking floorboard in the bedroom. Why should I care about your day if all I can do with mine is bending some walls?

"Yes, it was a very nice day. But every day in Home ... is a nice day! I can't wait to find out what will happen tommorrow. And the day after tomorrow ... and the day after that!"

You ruined my life. I wish I had never created you. You're not Wally. You're a demon! Yes, it must have been Satan that offered me that deal. And now he is controlling your limbs instead of me. Don't you remember? I made you! I sewed you out of my mother's yellow fleece blanket! And this is how you repay me? By turning my legs into pillars and my head into a rooftop? Fuck you! I hope you swallow some of your paint and choke on it!

"Haha. Silly Home ... Please don't swear. It's not very nice ... to use bad words."

You and every single one of your planks freeze. Did he just-

"What is it, Home? Are you ... surprised? Do you think that ... I can't hear you? Well, I can! Most times, I just don't feel like ... answering. You are just so boring and ... repetitive. Haha."

That laugh causes your drain pipes to shake.

He gets out of bed, with his dainty robes and nightcap on. Then, he scratches the insides of your walls. If this still was your human body, you would compare the sensation to a cockroach crawling through your intestines. Now, you finally realize that he has been doing this intentionally.

His voice splits into two ends, rubbing at eachother like a squeaking chalkboard. "You must remember, Home. We made you. Without us, there would be no Welcome Home on the Tee-Vee. You wanted this ... yes? You wanted ... to be heard and seen ... on the Tee-Vee. You wanted everybody to feel your love ... deep inside of them. And soon, they will all feel it ... just like you! Many friends and fun voices, deep in their hearts."

Your walls and floors are shaking - and yet, he happily walks back to his bed, not paying the breakdown that his house is currently experiencing any mind.

"And until then ... we will have ... lots of fun, together!" His voice stabilizes itself once more. "Tomorrow, everybody from Home will visit us. Barnaby, Frank, Sally, ... the whole gang. They will all be here, on your floors, in your rooms. It will be fun! Well, for you it will hurt ... but it will be fun!"

He pauses.

"That's all. See you tomorrow, Home."

Then, he is fast asleep.

One floor down, your sink leaks a few droplets splashing down the drain. Your rooftop trembles ever so slightly, trying to not to wake up the monster inhabiting your insides. You now have these late hours to yourself, before that horrific cycle starts again tomorrow.

If houses could cry, I'm sure there would be a tragedy written in your name.

[noshitbarnes]

Anti-Hero: Prologue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: After being experimented on as a young child and given abilities, Daniela has become a highly skilled member of the Avengers, and has even been assigned to mentor Peter Parker. Little does she know that the happiness she’s been able to find will become threatened by the very people who started her on her path long ago.

Warnings: angst, language, and mentions of torture

Word Count: 2,887

Notes: This has been in my WIPs for the longest time, so I decided to finally finish it up and let y’all read it! This chapter is just the set-up for Daniela’s character, so please be patient with me on the story development! I appreciate it! And as always if you want to be tagged in anything let me know!

Anti-Hero Masterlist

THREE YEARS EARLIER

"So, Sergeant Daniela Velikov, right?”

Daniela hears the voice, but doesn’t think much of it, thinking it was either her boss, Phil, or maybe Fitz from the lab with more specs for a new hand blaster. She finishes typing her sentence and then looks up from the screen towards the figure that was standing in front of her. The man’s suit was a dark navy blue that hugged his frame tightly, there was a large dark black star across his chest, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He was currently looking down at a file he had in his hands, he seemed quite interested in it; however, Daniela could still make out the dark circles under his eyes and the beard. She furrowed her brows while looking him over, thinking he could really use a shave, not that he looked bad, but that he'd look better if he trimmed his beard a bit. She stared at him a little while longer, thinking he looked slightly familiar, but the scruff and the dark suit told her she was wrong. It was when he finally looked up from the file, his blue eyes meeting her gaze that she knew who he was, Steve Rogers.

Quickly, she moves to stand at attention in front of him, "Yes, sir! Sergeant Velikov of the 78th Marines.”

"Well," Steve smirks as he looks her up and down, "you're not a Marine anymore,” Daniela smiles lightly as Steve looks back down at the file, “all right at ease, Sergeant,” she moves her feet apart and clasps her hands behind her back, “you have a very impressive resume for being just 23,” he closes the file and looks back to her.

Daniela wasn’t completely sure why Steve was here or why he was complimenting her. She had a feeling it most likely had something to do with the Avengers, she’s had many many talks with Phil about the team. Phil wanted her to join them, fight aliens, be a hero, maybe even lead the team in the future. His aspersions for her were always higher than her own.

Daniela decides to keep it cool and play along, "Thank you, sir, I've worked really hard to get where I am.”

He hums lightly and nods in agreement, "I got word about five months ago that there was someone within SHIELD who had some special abilities,” he raises glances at her to see if her demeanor changes, which it didn’t, "Coulson thought you might know who it is."

She tilts her head slightly trying her best to act dumb, "He did?”

He nods, "Sure did, got any ideas or should I start guessing?"

She shrugs one shoulder, "I don't work much with the rest of the team, sir, I usually do solo missions, so I wouldn't be the best person to ask."

Daniela made a rookie mistake, got all mushy one night, and told Phil a few things about her past, was a little too honest. She'd been apart of the team for about six months and the loneliness had gotten to her, she wasn't getting along with anyone at that point and the missions she'd been on were emotionally taxing, even for her. Phil was the only one that had shown any interest in being a friend, so after a particularly difficult mission, Daniela had a few too many drinks and went to his office and told him everything. It wasn't really anything Phil didn't already know, he was a SHIELD agent after all, he knew about her parents, how old she really was, and where she grew up, but he wasn't aware of her abilities. She never imagined that one night of confiding in a friend would lead to Steve Rogers showing up at her desk asking her questions.

Steve looks at her sternly and gestures to the file in his hand, "Do you know what this is?" Daniela shakes her head and he continues, "Coulson has personal files for every member of his team. Mostly for basic things, mission stats, what they like, what they don't, weaknesses, strengths, injuries," he drops the file behind her on her desk and points to it, "and that one's yours, so I'll ask you one more time Sergeant, do you know anyone here who has enhanced abilities?"

She glances at the file then back to Steve, with a blank expression. She had no problem lying, it was in her blood, after all she'd been doing it her entire life, but she did have a problem lying to Steve Rogers, America’s golden boy. She grew up watching him, idolizing him, and praying some day that maybe he'd come and save her too. Steve was one of the reasons she got into the army in the first place, along with more personal reasons.

Daniela takes a small calming breath, "Why does it even matter?"

Steve sighs, "Because if this person has enhanced abilities, I need to find out if their using them for the right reasons. I won't led SHIELD fall again."

Steve knew that the girl in front of him posed no threat because of the high praise Phil gave her, and Phil was one of the few he could actually trust. The only reason he was even here, grilling this woman, was because of Tony. The past few years had been rough on everyone and Tony thought it would be good for Steve to get out of the compound and try to recruit a few new faces. The entire purpose of recruitment now was to build a future team, with a good leader, and if Steve could persuade her, Daniela would be perfect.

Daniela pauses for a moment, "But why should they trust you?"

Steve pauses, he hasn’t had anyone question his motives in quiet some time, it was almost refreshing, "I'm not here to gain your trust, Sergeant, this isn't some game, I'm looking for answers," he frowns slightly when her expression doesn't change, "just be honest with me," he sighs when she still doesn't answer, "I think you realize I already know."

Daniela shifts her weight to her left foot and nods slowly, "I.. Coulson was the only one I told and that was about a year ago ago," she looks to the ground and closes her eyes, "not that he didn't already know, the man is a spy after all," this leads to a small chuckle from Steve, but Daniela continues, "this is why I knew opening up to anyone would be a mistake. I only use my powers when I'm on solo missions, so I can avoid questions about how I got them. I thought I was doing a pretty good job at hiding things,” she opens her eyes and looks back to him, “I've been running from my powers my entire life, sir," she hesitates slightly afraid of sharing, but she continues, hoping he would understand, "if it makes any difference, I don't like that I have them either, but um, it wasn't exactly my choice."

Steve listens intently, hearing not just her words, but the emotions behind them. He knew about her past, but only surface details, like where she was born and raised, who her parents are, and that they were the ones who gave Daniela her powers. If he was being completely honest, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to know exactly how she got them. Being a guinea pig of any kind is not a fun process.

Steve keeps his poker face and decides to change the subject, "You've been with SHIELD for nearly two years, never had any disciplinary actions, never asked any questions, have always done what you’re told. You're no doubt the best agent Coulson's got,” he looks her up and down assessing her, surprised such skill could come from someone so small, “so why stop here? Got any higher aspirations?"

Daniela chuckles lightly, the change of subject a slight relief, "Are you trying to get me to join the Avengers? I thought that was usually Stark's gig."

"He's got the day off," he smiles and continues, "the team would love to see a new face, have some help with missions,” she looks to him slightly confused, so he explains further, “we need some young faces to be the future of the team, the rest of us can’t do this forever. How about it? Coulson thinks you’d fit in with us well, maybe even help run it at some point.”

Daniela scoffs lightly at his remark and shakes her head. She’s always believed in what she did, she put her heart and soul into it, and sometimes that cost her, but there was no way she wanted to lead a team of superheroes, "With all due respect, Captain, I don't think that's up my ally.”

He takes in a deep breath and takes a step closer, now only a few feet from her, "Show me what you can do,” after all, it’s what he came here for.

The sudden closeness shocks her and her eyes grow wide, "W-what?"

He smiles sweetly and nods his head to her hands, "We just agreed that you have powers, now show me.”

She visibly clenches her jaw to calm her growing temper, “Yes, sir.”

Daniela slowly unclasps her hands and brings them around in front of her. She then turns them over, palms now facing the ceiling, while taking a deep calming breath, her hands begin to glow a soft icy white. Steve watches her hands intently, thoroughly impressed with what he's seeing. Moments later she starts a small fountain from her palms, letting the water flow freely for a few heartbeats, then freezes the water over quickly, “There.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, Phil wasn’t kidding, this girl really did have talent, but she had one more secret, "What else?”

She closes her hands abruptly causing the ice to shatter and fall to the floor around their feet, “Well... I um... I don’t tell many about the rest of my powers, sir.”

“Do I need to earn your trust?”

She shakes her head and furrows her brows, “Um... not exactly,” she purses her lips, “I’m just more worried about scaring people.”

Steve smirks slightly, “You realize that my best friend has a vibranium arm and I live with the Scarlet Witch. Those are just the calm ones, we also have an archer who climbs through the vents.”

That made her relax a bit and she chuckles, making Steve smile-- she had a cute laugh. Daniela didn’t know much about the Avengers personal life, other than what Phil told her, which wasn’t much, “Barton climbs in the vents?”

He shakes his head, “Yeah, I don’t ask why.”

Steve didn’t really ask too many questions about the others, figured it was none of his business, although if they wanted to share he’d happily listen. Some say that made him cold and off-putting, that he was too much of a soldier, but it wasn’t that at all, he cared too much. He was worried that getting too close to those he worked with would just put them in danger.

Daniela giggles and Steve continues, “Anyway, what else can you do? I won’t tell a soul,” he holds up two fingers, “scouts honor.”

She heavily sighs, “I... um, alright... my powers. They call it cryo-electricity. I can manipulate ice and lightning either at the same time or separately. I’ve learned over the years I can use water and frost too.”

Bringing her right hand back up in front of her, palm still facing the sky, she curls her fingers inward slightly, as if she was holding a ball. She scowls slightly at her hand, still unsure about showing him, but he already knew, so might as well. Clenching her teeth, trying to focus on her hand, small violet colored sparks begin to dance from her fingers like little strings. It wasn’t much, but it proved the point that she could do it.

"Impressive," he meets her gaze when the sparks die out and sees hesitation in her eyes, "I'm not saying you have to join, but you'd be helping a lot of people, and I know that's what you want."

Seeing that she still wasn't sure, he decides to take a different approach, and grabs the folder off her desk, "Says here you where on the fast track to joining the SRT squad before you were recruited to SHIELD,” he raises a curious eyebrow, looking over the file, "they don't normally allow women to join.”

The SRT team was the Special Reaction Team that responds to more dangerous and high risk situations within the military base. Basically they were the army equivalent of a SWAT team. They actually don’t allow women to join, but the General that Daniela worked under saw great potential in her and said he’d grant her request when it was time. She thought she would be able to help more people if she was on the squad, which is partiality what she wanted. She still had another year left before officially applying for the team when Phil found her and convinced her of a different path.

She nods at Steve, "They said I fit the bill for what they needed, sir.”

He purses his lips in agreement, she was a fine soldier, not a lot of women can say they were a Sergeant in the Marines. He then tilts his head curiously at her, “What made you want to be with SHEILD then? You could've gotten everything you wanted with SRT. Action, adventure, helping people, what changed?”

"I um,” Daniela takes a deep breath, "it's of personal nature, sir.”

"Got anything to do with your parents?” He lightly throws the file back onto the desk causing her eyes to widen.

"Possibly, sir," she pauses, “I um, I didn't realize you knew about them.”

Unfortunately for Steve, he knew all to well who her parents were, he just never realized that they had a daughter, “Stark and I had," he nods his head side-to-side, "a chance encountered with your father once, about a year ago, it ended with him getting away,” he frowns slightly at the ground and then looks back into Daniela's eyes, “Didn’t realize he had a daughter.”

Daniela’s parents always got away. She was starting to think they were destined to live free while she was destined to spend her eternity chasing after them like an idiot. They needed to pay, no, had to pay for what they did, not just to her, but for what they’re continuing to do. They’re monsters.

“Yeah, they’re not particularly proud of me, sir. They think that what happened to me was a blessing and that I am wasting my gift," she sighs and looks to the floor, "My apologies for having to deal with him.”

"No need, not your doing," she looks back to him and his eyes had softened, "you turned out quiet the opposite of him.”

"I um,” she scoffs, "I've worked my whole life to be the opposite of them both. I’ve tried to use what they cursed me with for the greater good, sometimes I can, some days, not so much,” she looks at her hands and shakes her head.

He takes a few steps towards her and rests a hand on her shoulder, "You've made a huge difference and changed a lot of lives, for the better,” she smiles weakly and he takes his hand away, "I can help you take the fight to Hydra. I can't promise we'll see your parents, but I can promise that if we do, we'll make them pay for what they did.”

"I've been fighting Hydra for decades, sir," she chuckles lightly, "Phil did the same speech with me years ago and he was able to convince me enough to join up here. After all these years, I have yet to see either of them.”

Steve nodded forgetting that her true age didn't show, “Well, I don't suggest you actually go looking for them,” he looks to her sternly, “you might not be happy with what you find.”

Daniela mumbles softly to herself, "Never stopped you,” he raises his eyebrows at her in surprise, "I'm sorry, sir, that was uncalled for.”

"It's alright," he shrugs and continues, "but I do know from experience that dwelling on the past only causes more pain.”

Moving on was something Daniela didn't do well, even after over 90 years. Little things tended not to bother her so much now, but childhood trauma was something that she still couldn't let go of. After all, her parents tortured her, changed her DNA, gave her powers, and then abandoned her at an orphanage when she didn't agree with their evil plan all by the age of eight. How can anyone just wake up one morning and go, "Yeah, this is fine."? The best course of action is to just fake a smile, bury the emotions deep, and hope that one day they'll die.

Daniela stares at him and blinks, "So I've been told, sir.”

[eclecticmuses]

Wedding Crasher

Author: @eclecticmuses​​​​​​​​​​​, @mrsleopoldfitz​​​​​​​​​​​ Rating: Explicit Chapters: 31 Relationships/Characters: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons, Will Daniels, Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Light Angst, Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, This Plot Gets Derailed By Smut, Background Huntingbird Summary: Jemma Simmons has her life turned upside-down when, on the day of her wedding, her best friend confesses his love for her. Making a rash decision to run away with him, can she put her life back in order? Can they put their lives back in order, and get past the pain they’ve caused to find happiness in their own right?

Excerpt from Chapter 25:

Basking in Fitz’s attention, Jemma’s smile flared into something bright and brilliant. There it was: they were in agreement. It was sublime, having this sort of understanding without words, but she should have expected it. She and Fitz had always been able to communicate with little more than a look.

Opening her eyes, she wound her arms around his neck and decided to be irrational. “I don’t want to leave this bed,” she told him quietly, gently bumping her nose against his. “I just want to be with you. Unless it’s to move to your bed or my bed back home.”

"Yeah?" he brushed his nose against hers, beyond pleased. Fitz was downright lightheaded with joy at hearing Jemma say that. He was well aware of the fact that she had never lived with a significant other, and while he knew that wasn't what she'd said now, he couldn't help but feel like the door had been left open for the idea.  He would love to have Jemma in his space all the time, as long as she was ready for it. "That'll make goin' t' work difficult. Eatin', too," he teased. "But I'm sure we can find a way. Get work from home jobs and just look decent when we need t' be on camera."

That had broken the spell on their seriousness, but it brought a smile to Jemma’s face. “Now you’re just being silly,” she said with a laugh in her voice. “You know what I mean. I don’t want this to end. Not anytime soon.”

Read the rest on AO3!